In 2018, NPR ranked this as the #11 greatest song by a female or nonbinary artist in the 21st century, saying:

When ‘Tightrope’ came out, people didn’t tell you to listen to it: They demanded you watch it. And they were right. Heard alone, the song is deceptively upbeat: It’s funky, it’s old school, it’s a bop. And Monáe is so charismatic that you almost — almost — don’t notice how weird her music is. But pair the slightly surreal lyrics with James Brown-style, tuxedo-clad dancing through an asylum, and you’re there. You’ve entered a part-dystopian, part-Afrofuturist, part-Motown alternate reality.

‘Tightrope’ brought Monáe from relative obscurity into the spotlight, but it certainly didn’t make her mainstream. She’s remained committed to self-defining what it looks and sounds like to be a queer black woman. The iconic black-and-white suit that marked her ‘Tightrope’ days was one iteration. These days, when she rocks ruffled pink vagina pants in a video, it feels like the natural progression of a space she’s been carving out for herself — and her fans — for years.