Give Your Idols a Round of Applause
Aretha Franklin: The Riverside Theater (Milwaukee, WI — June 3, 2016)
2016 thus far has been an incredible year for new music, and a horrible one for so many legends that we’ve lost along the way. First it was Lemmy, then Bowie, then Glenn Frey, then Merle, and then it was Prince. I’m only just listing off the biggest names on the marquee too. There were plenty of other vital artists and cultural figures who bit the big one in 2016. Far too many commemorate in this space.
I vividly recall spending the hours after Prince’s passing scrolling mindlessly through Twitter, taking in each individual tribute, no matter how big or small, in the vain hope of finding just a little bit of salve for my aching heart. Along the way I happened upon a Tweet by someone — I wish I could remember who — that offered up a vital reminder that it was important to experience and enjoy your heroes while they were still around. Embedded in the tweet were a number of links to a various legendary artist tour pages. One of the names included was Aretha Franklin.
Aretha is a notorious aviophobe. She hates planes. As a resident of the Western portion of the country for most of my life, that meant that my opportunities to see the Queen of Soul were extremely limited. She was an artist I’ve always admired, a singer without equal, and as a connoisseur of live entertainment, it’s long been a dream of mine to experience that tremendous power for myself in person. When I saw that link, I knew I had to make the gig.
I left my house yesterday around 4pm to begin the two-hour drive up to Milwaukee. The last time I visited the city it was to see the Rolling Stones. Milwaukee has been very good to me. I paid for parking beforehand, so I rolled up to the garage, found a spot, and hurriedly made my way over to the venue.
The Riverside Theater was the perfect space to take in an artist as monumental as Aretha Franklin. It’s an old building, but one of exquisite design and tremendous craftwork. There’s a natural feeling of gravitas imbued into all that brick and mortar, but a warmth, and a playfulness as well. Everywhere you looked there was red and gold; the twin colors of passion and elegance.
At 7:30 on the dot, the band, all 19-members, came to order and began vamping on an instrumental medley of Aretha’s biggest hits. A few moments later, the MC took hold of the mic and offered up a long, excited send-up to the star of the night before finally announcing her arrival with a mighty flourish. And then suddenly there she was. I was seated high up in the rafters, damn near the last row in fact, but it didn’t matter. The sight of Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul right down there in front of my very eyes, looking absolutely stunning in a sparkling gold dress draped over the shoulders by her long brown hair was tremendously overwhelming. I leapt to my feet and clapped my hands together with an almost painful amount of force. I can’t explain why, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to burst into tears.
The first song was a curious choice, “I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me).” It was a single that she recorded as a duet with George Michael sometime in the 1980s. It was a No. 1 hit so it obviously must hold a special place in her heart, but I was unfamiliar with it. Honestly, she could have opened with “The Farmer in the Dell” and I no doubt would have been bowled over by that voice, because oh my Lord, that voice!
It took her a song or two to really rev up, but by the time she hit “Think” — which she introduced by cracking a Blues Brothers joke — she was at full throat. I was prepared for transcendence, but I was entirely unprepared for the kind of transcendence that Aretha Franklin is capable of presenting. When I tell you that it felt like she didn’t even need the microphone to overwhelm the farthest reaches of that ornate concert hall, I’m in no way exaggerating.
I should probably note that even if it didn’t seem like it to all of us, Aretha herself wasn’t feeling 100% last night. She made mention of having to use a Z Pack to make it to the stage, and apparently had to postpone a different show last week. In direct contrast with her Diva reputation, she made it a point to say, “I’m definitely not going to disappoint you.” As the very definition of an entertainer, she went out of her way to fulfill that promise and then some.
A little over halfway through the concert, she took a seat behind the long, black grand piano parked stage left and began hammering out deep, brooding notes on the lithe, ivory keys. She paid a touching tribute to the recently departed Natalie Cole, and twinkled out a brief portion of the Simon & Garfunkel hit “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” I’ve seen clips of Aretha playing piano before, but man, the way she just hammers into the notes is tremendous. There’s a reckless abandon to her playing that’s entirely engrossing. In an instant, it became very clear who was the best musician up on the stage that night.
The evening finally ended around 9 p.m. with an encore rendition of her signature song “Respect.” The lights stayed down as a retrospective slideshow ran through some of the highlights of Aretha’s life before the singer herself returned for one last final applause donning an oversized, red clown nose. A man on the side of the stage held open her big fur coat and as she departed she wrapped herself inside of it. Then she was gone. A couple of moments later, in a touch of the old school, a man in a white tuxedo rushed out in front of the audience to retrieve her purse, which no doubt contained her take for the night’s performance. Cash only thank you!
The lights went up, and I rushed as quickly as I could down to the front of the stage in the desperate hope that I might obtain a copy of the setlist. With so many musicians in Aretha’s employ, I felt like I had a shot, and wouldn’t you know, the band leader was kind enough to rip a sheet off one of the stands and hand it down to me. I held onto it like an important totem, basking in my good fortune.
The ride back home was dark, and filled with reflection. I listened to Aretha of course; her entire performance at The Fillmore West in 1971. Somewhere around O’Hare I reached for my phone and read the sad news that Muhammad Ali had died. You really need to honor your heroes while they’re still around to enjoy the applause.
