Pictures were not allowed once we entered the Roseland Theater, so this is all I took. Honestly, no phone usage in a concert like this---can't think of a better idea.
Though I've dabbled in it all my life and even started an all-girl band in 2005 that is still alive today, I am not a musician. I am, however, an expert lover of music. My big sis, Iya, had a major influence on what sort of music would stay with me through the years. Picture this:
- mid-90s
- old cranky red Bravada
- one of those old installed car audio systems, with the removable face
- stacked up CDs in the console, classics
- I'm wearing my own version of 90s grunge, let's call it dirty hollywood... dad's old hang-gliding shirt complete with holes, a honeycomb long john shirt underneath, one of grandma's big fancy coats (sort of like wearing a plush carpet), baggy fancy black pants, a cool belt, cool boots, lots of eye makeup.
- Iya picks out a CD...something I think I really don't like: Prince.
- By the second encore, we had formed our own community. It was the community experiencing the unfathomable Prince and his impossibly virtuosic all-woman band, 3rd eye girl, up close and personal. Our encore became a call and response from one side of the room to the other, we clap you clap back, a thumping stomp sound became the bass. We were a tribe of audience members who were all pining for the same thing. Then Will & I started a chant and it sounded like we were all singing together, forming our own music. People were creating their own versions of the chant, you looked around the room---it was electric, full of all different kinds of people coming together. And then the curtains open for the second encore and last song of the night: Purple Rain. Which brings me to my second moment...
- All of our efforts had paid off, the whole room ERUPTED into an energetic sigh (slash: roar scream) and it felt like we were floating. The ooooh, ooooh, ooooh, ooooh moment came in the song and he made it very clear that he wanted everyone to participate. He kept saying, "one more time," and it would start again. Then he kept reminding us, "don't worry about your neighbor, just sing." And we did. Louder and louder. It was one of the most inspirational moments I have ever had the privilege of experiencing...with complete strangers.