"Find me shawty when your boyfriend boring ya." - Big Boi feat. T.I. and Khujo Goodie, Tangerine
December 3 – Moment.
Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).
(Author: Ali Edwards)
I've already written about the two moments I remember most fondly this year: She + Me = Us and Shark Bitten at the Taste of Beverly Hills. This post then will be about last night.
Aloe Blacc @ Echoplex 12/3 by Mick ㋡, on Flickr
When did we know it was a special night? Was it when we walked through the doors of the Echoplex and found a perfect spot right up at the front, stage right? Was it when Jamie Strong dropped one of the illest records (that we still don't know the name of) ever and our dance party commenced? Was it when Peanut Butter Wolf hit the stage with his multimedia set mixing classic soul videos rather than records? Was it when he started with Marvin Gaye rolled into The Jacksons and then slayed us with a James Brown blend into Mos Def's Umi Says? And then he took us higher, right? We found ourselves in Controversy with Prince, falling in love with Rick James's Mary Jane and then, of course, The Mary Jane Girls. We stepped out, we called 777-9311, and then, whoo lawd, we remembered September.
Was it when we realized it was 11:30pm and we'd already tightened up tighter but still hadn't had the main event? Was it when The Grand Scheme came on stage, an excited and seemingly young group of musicians (seriously, the horn player, the keyboardist, and the drummer all looked like they were out past curfew), and proceeded to blow the roof off the sucker? Was it our introduction to Maya Jupiter whose short set was just the right amount of energy and effort and skill. I expected singing and she surprised by rapping reminding me of the multi-talents of artists like Nneka and Medusa.
Ultimately, we must've known it was special when Mr. Blacc finally hit the stage. Just a few months ago at The Taste of Beverly Hills, I'd seen him perform with Quantic in front of maybe only 30 people paying attention. We appreciated the effort but that's nothing compared to playing in front of a sold out crowd on the last night of your 50-plus city tour and it showed. He was comfortable and confident. He harkened back to the performances of our classic soul heroes just like the ones Peanut Butter Wolf had just shown us on video. Throughout a nearly two hour set, I thought about Sam Cooke and Wilson Pickett, Jackie Wilson and, ultimately, The Godfather.
But Aloe was also distinctly his own man. Nattily dressed in simple slacks and a rose colored ruffled tuxedo shirt, I marveled at his afro and his simple shoes and his gorgeous black (onyx?) wedding ring. He deftly took control of the crowd and led us through his two hour sermon at the Church of Love and Happiness. He proved me wrong when he got a Los Angeles crowd to come up with an infectious rhythm all their own. He wowed me when he was able to create a Soul Train line in the middle of the audience and actually get people to dance. He impressed me by bringing the crowd more intimately into the show when it warranted it and ignoring the too often shouts and call-outs to his most famous track, I Need A Dollar (oh, hipsters!).
The moment for me, however, was during his performance of Hey Brother. In the midst of the break as the Grand Scheme is breaking it down to the fullest, He's dancing around the stage. As he came back into performing the song, he let loose a hip level right kick on beat. And then a left one in sync with the snap of the snare drum. I let out a "whoa!" and then looked around to see if everyone else was feeling what I was feeling. I was truly filled with love and happiness. With a sense of my place and purpose in the world. With the knowledge that we share this place together. That we're in it together. And that, damnit, we should celebrate and shout and dance. And kick if the beat say do it.
I looked around to see if everyone else was feeling what I was feeling.
Alive.
