Just Velvet, through threatening and surrounding thunderstorms, reminded us why music is love
An otherworldly display of celebration through existence validated by the attending crowd; they returned the honor by dancing in the rain, the highest bestowment in the realm of uncertain hope.
Just Velvet closed a near-full day of live music, artistic expression, and creative activities by inducing the delightful and energetic Santa Fe crowd into a full body dance of rhythmic soul, a lil’ bit of funk, a tiny slice of pop, tasteful all-ages R&B, and their own blend of authentic truth and mojo with a story to tell.
And they did it with just one spectacular and unnoticeable sigh. And maybe the word, “wow.”
Santa Fe Brewing hosted their summer desert party over the weekend, a large outdoor venue with incredible stage sound and event staff. The attending crowd was graced with cool temps, lush rolling hills with shade trees, and looming thunderstorms in the backdrop most of the day, raining off and on, setting a remarkable vibe for Just Velvet to move bodies and shake the cobwebs headlining the Beer Hall HQ stage for the celebration.
To be a performing musician, based in and around Albuquerque post-pandemic, means the disheartening and often depressing truth of playing to empty venues or lackluster crowds. Repeatedly. Consistently.
In 2023, I saw it so often it nearly broke my will to carry on. In some ways it sort of did. By the end of last year, I became bitter and frustrated, knowing the power of live music but its healing energy widely and senselessly ignored by the citizens of our messed up little town. And it is. Messed all to hell up. The only damn downtown in America seemingly designed and managed to keep people out (discuss amongst yourselves). I had to endure every fucking day of it last year. I had to live it so that it became muscle memory, often being the only one in the damn crowd, inwardly shaming myself for not catching every other band that was playing that night. I began to take on weight not mine to carry.
I had to experience it. Nightly. I had to become intimate with those uncomfortable silences. Those late night dark places. The way a musician becomes one with their instrument. Had I not, I would not have been present today, in the now, writing this story, for what I heard come through the microphone, through the impeccable amplification and management of sound, and into my soul, when Shani Mikaela gently stepped to the mic, looked out over the crowd, smiled with her whole heart, and sighed.
With intent, composure, and commanding stage presence, Shani leaned forward and gently soothed the audience with a one-word poem that summed up every emotion endured and the gratitude for the gala occasion to connect in a long, endearing “wowwww.” The art of unspoken language and awareness, broadcast through frustrated performing human arts; received and shared exclusively by those who are in the trenches, fighting the resistance to give it all up.
The moment Shani sighed into the mic, she exhaled the pain and sacrifice from thousands of hours exhausted in the rehearsal spots and practice sessions. She exhaled the implosion of hope that accompanied all those lifeless crowds, lacking, even obliterating the visual and emotional feedback loop necessary for a performing artist to know their music is in fact, connecting with others. When Shani sighed, she didn’t do so on her behalf alone; the conviction in her smile and light in her eyes, she conveyed the sheer essence of gratitude of all musicians who have traveled that road, finally arriving at a venue, an event, with a vibrant, inclusive, attentive, and celebratory crowd to witness and honor the music they worked so hard to produce.
It is through the endurance of pain, where gratitude morphs into a superpower.
Superpowers headline events and bring movement to stagnation through the expert and precise use of soul, crowd energy, human spirit, and the transcending energy of faceless, colorless, and genderless love. Just Velvet, with just one note, had people up and out of their doom and gloom and into a vivd display of human acceptance through music and movement.
And on that evening, after the storms had passed and the near full moon danced to Just Velvet far behind the lingering rain clouds, just for a moment, the children laughed and played, and the adults danced. Just for a moment, the human spirit and existential vibrations that channeled and commanded bodily movement, did not emanate from exploding bombs and swarms of bullets.
Just for a moment, we were all at peace, both with the world and ourselves. And we expressed it to one another, through dance.
Stringer
For this Just Velvet performance on the HQ stage:
Shani Mikaela (vocals, sax)
Danny Tórrez (drums)
Eduardo Cano (guitar)
Samantha Harris (bass)
Enrique Castaneda (keys)
Based in Albuquerque, NM / Just Velvet music (link)
Santa Fe Brewing summer party music portion curated by Kiley Larsen, founder of Mama Mañana Records Mama Mañana Records (link) Damn good peeps.
To the SFB sound and stage staff: Damn that sounded good!!!! Looking forward to more of THAT!
TO ALL THE BANDS THERE THAT WEEKEND, wow!!! That was an unforgettable event! Cheers!