The details until the show started can get boring, but they're still clear: 1) Watching numerous people walk up to the door and then quickly walk back out realizing the doors were not open yet and the show was sold out. 2) Huddling for heat and speculating about the lives and bits of audible conversation from other concert goers 3) Attempting to catch a bit of "Taxes" that was played for sound check and 4) Asking repeatedly, "Can we go inside now?" and being told, "No, we will respect the venue and it will respect us." (Actually, the whole respect thing turned out 100% true. Who would've thought, right? Thank you.)
One x marked on each of our hands in green Sharpie, we walked in to a small room that looked more like a local band stage than anything. Staking claim on stage left, we waited and grooved to the sounds of Otis Redding and Sam Cooke. Normally, Sam and Otis wouldn't even be considered for opening music, as it's universally known that your opening music can't overshadow and outdo your main act, but this show wasn't going to have to compete with anyone or anything. The opening band was interesting, The Ivan Milev Band to namedrop. They were humble and foreign and actually didn't suck, considering they were so different. While accordion solos are impressive and something my ears don't hear too often, I was still nervous and excited, wondering if in a few minutes I really was going to be standing, or rather, dancing 3 feet away from one of the most amazing women to ever pick up a microphone. I took a few pictures and danced as much as you really can to irregular meters and accordion blasts and clapped when they were through, but I was still on edge. We made some conversation and then "A Change Is Gonna Come" permeated the air and it was probably one of the greatest sing-alongs I've been a part of. You could feel the excitement, like something big was looming and it couldn't have been more accurate.
The Dap-Kings took the stage and picked up a rhythm that made even the whitest feet start tappin'. The energy was contagious and every instrument wailed in the best way. We were practically in the laps on the guitar players at some points and I had no objections. The music was loud but not in your face and just enough jazz to start something. And then, of course, after a well-deserved introduction by Binky Griptite, she took the stage.
She's 51 years old and 4'11, but you'd never even know it. She's wearing heels and the same dress she wore on an album cover shoot and I'm nearly melting already at the amount of soul in the first note she sings. Her voice is smooth but it's got this bitterness to it that makes every song feel so raw and funky all at the same time. She can't stay still and neither can I when she asks "How Do You Let A Good Man Down?" and makes Marvin Gaye look like a boy scout. You can tell she's worked at this for such a long time, the way the songs seem so much a part of her personality and the way she brings her past and her life story into her dancing. She belts out "Nobody's Baby" and the crowd is hers. We're singing back-ups and call-and-response and she's overpowering every amazing instrument backing her. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, she decides to invite someone onstage and reaches for Kevin. She's asking him his name and then my name gets thrown into the mix and suddenly she's singing "Be Easy" with the words "Kevin" and "Kelsey" thrown in at appropriate times. I'm yelling and dancing and laughing all at the same time because there's no way this is really happening. She sings with such ease (no pun intended) and every note is like honey. She's dancing and Kevin is dancing and I'm dancing and as cheesy as it is, my heart is happy and I'm so happy that this woman that I love and am inspired by is face to face with the guy that makes me feel butterflies on a regular basis. Kevin gets a kiss on the cheek from her and we haven't even gotten five songs in yet. She treats every word of every song importantly and she connects with every single person there. Not even the drunk girl she invites on stage ruins anything and Sharon is such a little fireball through everything. "100 Days, 100 Nights" gets a good response and my feet can't stop moving and the soul of the song is overwhelming. She ends her set and the band keeps playing, but I know it can't be over. After a few minutes of pleading, she's back on the stage and then she does something that makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end: she nails the first few notes to "It's a Man's Man's Man's World" and tears up the song in a way that would make James Brown smile. I am completely astounded by her. She sings a few older songs and is still as jumpy as ever and then she leaves us on a high note with the band still doing justice.
I can't collect thoughts afterwards except the fact that it all really happened and I see a tiny little crowd around a familiar-looking dress. People ask to take pictures of Kevin and I and I feel a little ridiculous. We make our way over to her and she's the most gracious little woman I've heard in long time, ushering everyone over to the merch table and thanking people for coming. She's tiny and everyone is taller than her but she has an enormous presence about her. We follow her and get pushed to the front of the line where she says, "Kevin and Kelsey!" and I die a little inside. We take a picture and I thank her in words that don't really match up to my real gratitude and she kisses me on the cheek. We take a few more pictures but I'm still in awe of the whole thing and I can't believe it all happened.
The entire way home I can't even handle listening to music but I've got this goofy grin on my face, one hand on the wheel and a soul so full of good music that it could burst.
