Meshell
Wore shades and whispered to her cohorts
Described Prince as “a weird motherfucker”
Reminisced on her own awkward phase when her parents must’ve wondered “what the fuck are you going through?”
She read the glow that held his lyrics in cyber space
Kept pointing to the screen saying, “Those are the words,”
The lights- a smoky purple/indigo haze showering the stage
We were mesmerized by her every move
She apologized for no costume changes
Or heels
Or the twins
But she played that man’s music with a woman’s voice
And grace
She
Responded to burning questioning- why not her own songs tonight?
She
Answered she would rather do the music that inspired her to make music in the first place
She picks up her guitar-one of three on stage
We went nuts on “Let’s Go Crazy”
I don’t remember the drummer’s name
I only remember that he was BOSS
His left hand played eighth-notes
His right hand played sixteenth-notes on the cymbal
His right foot banged the bottom out
God knows what his left foot did while all of that was going on
A lady next to me is thrown into hysterics
I ask in ignorance, “what is this song?” she screams, “Lady Cab Driver” into my ear, “but she slowed it way down,”
And that it was “driving her crazy!”
Her encore- “Purple Rain” in slow motion
Winding into our ears like a gospel spilled from the mouth of a prophet
After watching the movie a few times she reviews, “I’m sorry, that was some misogynist shit!”
(Shakes her head)
Ms. Meshell
Thanked us all at the end of her show for coming out and participating in this experiment
It looked like she had one last thing to say
When random shouts of “We love you Meshell!” ring out from our mouths
One escaped my lips, I know
And we left in awe of her wonder
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