03 May The Slow, Sweet Burn of Alabama Shakes

Headlining the main stage on the very last day of SunFest 2016 was the one and only Alabama Shakes. Before the Ford Stage was the only place to be.

The rise of Alabama’s brilliant quartet has felt swift and sudden. After all, there’s not a moment to lose. Forming in 2009, Alabama Shakes has released two unforgettable albums, and been nominated for seven Grammy Awards. (They claimed three.)

In the past few years, I’ve had the pleasure of attending multiple festivals with lead singer and guitarist Brittany Howard, guitarist Heath Fogg, bassist Zac Cockrell, and drummer Steve Johnson at the top of the bill. Each time I’ve nodded toward their incredible sound, and then settled in front of a different stage. But not yesterday.

On Sunday, I positioned myself before their stage to finally give them the attention they deserved from me long ago. Thousands of other festival attendees did the same.

Their first song was admittedly my favorite, prior to this show. “Future People” is a perfectly temperamental track, with soft verses and a rambunctious chorus. I play it when I’m mad as hell. I play it when I’m so happy I can’t stand still.

Howard ushered us into “Hang Loose” and “Rise to the Sun,” while I processed just how loud this band could be. With no gaudy stage props or strobe lights, the only thing Alabama Shakes needs to, well, shake you, is their sound. After slinking away from the stage, I stood in awe of their fury and potential.

No longer than three minutes after I’d scribbled, “They’re yelling at us,” did Howard share this was the last stop on their tour.

“My goal wasn’t to play at you,” she said. “I know you’ve been in the sun all day. I appreciate you coming to watch us play.”

I laughed out loud to no one. Alabama Shakes got softer, and played on.

Against the palest sunset, Howard and friends moved the all-ages, quiet crowd. We heard “Miss You,” “Dunes,” and “I Ain’t the Same,” and of course, “Hold On.”

With each song, I felt more and more humbled to be in the crowd. This band was never meant for small shows and venues. No, their power belongs on massive stages, before massive crowds. It needs space to spill over and shock our ears. Alabama Shakes is scary good. Standing before Howard’s wailing screams and screaming guitar, I wondered if, given the opportunity, if I would pass out before them.

This band gives zero damns about what’s happening to the left or right of them. Their sound and success looks and feels different than every other band I’ve encountered. Howard will always be closer to an Adele than a Carrie or a Miley.

This isn’t a fad. We’ll be listening to Alabama Shakes when we are painfully old and fragile. We’ll put on their music and say, “I saw them when, I saw them when…” We’ll gift our children and grandchildren their albums. Our lives are better off with them in it.

“I need you all right now,” Howard said. “Thank you for watching our show. Being so gracious tonight, being so welcoming. I can’t wait till we see each other again.”