Freshly Spearheaded

With his hands cupping my cheeks, guitarist J Bowman looks into my eyes and, with the elation of someone who understands what it's like to be a fan, proclaims his excitement about my seeing Michael Franti and Spearhead for the very first time. Fresh blood, he calls it. He doesn’t have to ask if I enjoyed the show; it’s written all over my smile and red-rimmed eyes.

"Ah!" he says. "You've been freshly Spearheaded! That’s how I started off – as a fan. I remember it all, crying through the songs and everything…”

“That happened!” I say, and I’m excited because he gets it: being moved to tears by such a perfect fusion of melody and language. His smile never falters and he gives me a hug that stays in my memory despite the lack of photographic evidence.

When I reach my car, I lift my hand to my cheek and think about how warmly those hands welcomed me and how fiercely they’d been shredding the guitar strings only moments before. I almost missed out on all of it.

Since the announcement of Michael Franti and Spearhead’s All People Tour, I’ve been watching the tour dates. And once the show for Silver Spring was listed among the East Coast dates, sponsored by 94.7 Fresh FM, I found myself on the Live Nation page at various times through the month prior to the show, trying to decide if I had the money for it, if I knew anyone that would want to go with me, if I should go to the party I was invited to instead, if, if, if.

I snagged a ticket the evening before the concert, less than 24 hours in advance. And it was only then, once the purchase was finalized, that my anxious hesitation fizzled away. It felt right that I was going, and I would’ve spent Friday during the show with my heart beating for Silver Spring despite my absence.

I managed to get a spot second row from the front, stage right behind some tall boys and beside a family. Between them I had a great view of center stage. I learned later that directly in front of us was the raised part of the barricade where the musicians could step up and reach out into the audience.

The first time it happened, I locked onto Michael Franti’s hand and squeezed tightly, as if to say music is my everything. The second time, he reached out deeper into the audience, and my hands ended up gripping his shirt because I hadn’t expect it.

Location didn’t matter so much, really, because Michael Franti, barefoot and 6’6’’, spends more time out in his audience than he does on stage. In the center of the crowd, were two mini-stages, one on the left side and one on the right. On these stages, if he had a free hand, he’d bring a couple individuals up and twirl them about. And then, he went up into the balcony, where people were sitting to avoid the standing room crowd, and sang among them too. Not one person was excluded from being a welcome part of the concert experience.

I didn’t have the opportunity to memorize the set list, but there was a heavy emphasis on songs which praise the diversity of all people, encourage unity among us, and celebrate being alive. He played all of my favorites from the new album All People, including “11:59” and “Life Is Better With You.” Emotion swelled throughout the room, and I was overwhelmingly willing to go on the ride.

It could’ve been when he whispered the final, titular lyrics at the conclusion of “Wherever You Are”, when he repeated the phrase so many times the words faded into silence as he spun to address everyone in the audience, even going so far as to look upwards at whatever entities may be there.

It could’ve been when he told us a story of being hospitalized from a ruptured appendix, when he’d look out the window and see the sun shining to know it would be a good day or close his eyes and go somewhere else if his window showed a cloudy sky. This was the moving inspiration behind “The Sound of Sunshine,” and the story was a beautiful introduction for the moment a barrage of large yellow balloons were let loose into the audience.

It could’ve been when the woman beside me heard the opening notes of “11:59” and yelled in excitement for her favorite song. In that moment, it could’ve been me shouting. Or when Michael Franti leaned down to kiss the temple of the man sitting in the wheelchair a few people behind me. Or when he brought all the kids up on stage for “Say Hey (I Love You)” after playing the first encore song, “I’m Alive.”

It could’ve been any of those moments.

It was “Life Is Better With You” that moved me to tears. Michael Franti told us a story about walking along the beach hand-in-hand with his wife, Sara, and feeling like they were the only couple there. He spoke about that day being a perfect Valentine’s Day, and explained that the day that followed wasn’t so great. He dedicated the song to her and they journey together, and sang it for everyone there with someone they loved.

I was on my own.

"I’m not afraid to be alone, but being alone is better with you", he sang. The line has always meant something special to me, but never so much as to provoke tears. At that moment, I was me, and you was both the musicians on stage and the music itself. It was in that moment that I was truly grateful for deciding to attend the show.

Because no matter how bad things get, or how alone I feel, I know that music is there. And I was so happy that I lost myself completely.

At the end of the night, I had only a couple of pictures and a fading guitar pick, which I received from J Bowman before we’d actually spoken that evening. He originally was giving it to a young girl, but she turned it down because she already had some. I jumped on the opportunity (thank you!).

I walked the block to my car, thankful for beautiful souls and excited for whatever chapter I had opened as a fresh blood spearhead.

Edited April 2016 from post published Sept. 25, 2013 via Wordpress

#concert #music #MichaelFranti