Live Shows Were My Therapy
Before the pandemic shut everything down, including in-person live performances, I attended almost twenty concerts, showcases and festivals within a six month timespan.
Those shows kept me moving and somewhat sane. The reason? I was coping with the loss of my father and paternal grandmother.
My grandmother passed away in July 2019; my dad passed away a month later during Labor Day weekend.
The day after my father transitioned, I (in my unsettled mind) attended The Urban Embassy’s artist showcase featuring Kenyon Dixon, Ré Lxuise and King Midas. Right after that showcase ended, my college sister Victoria and I hopped in an Uber and had fun at Joy Postell’s Back and Forth album release concert, which featured MovaKween, Soduh, Baby Kahlo and more. A week after burying my dad, I found myself at the Kennedy Center’s inaugural REACH Festival where I finally met Inglewood, CA emcees Ill Camille and Damani Nkosi, a month prior to the release of their collaborative album as HARRIETT. I remember Camille asking me if I was okay. I replied yes in excitement, but for a few days before that, I wasn’t. The grief hit me like a ton of bricks when I returned to work after my dad’s janaza (funeral and burial), so I took a few more days off. However, I gathered myself together (as much as I could) and went to support Ill Camille, despite grieving heavily the days before.
Truth be told, I needed the distraction, the peace of mind. Seeing some of my favorite artists perform (and even meeting them) made me excited and provided me with peace at the same time. That feeling kept going for the many other shows I went to. Concerts were my therapy.
I attended shows by Robert Glasper (twice: once in D.C. and then in NYC), Styles P, Dead Prez and Talib Kweli, BJ the Chicago Kid, Rapsody and Big K.R.I.T., TeaMarrr and SiR, Jaden and Willow Smith, Elle Varner and more. I went to festivals, concerts and showcases hosted by Baltimore artists such as Abdu Ali, Score|Swayze, MovaKween, and Big Vibe Party (a collab between producers and DJs Mr. 14th and DK the Punisher). My last shows (and some of my favorite shows) before the pandemic brought the world to a standstill were Little Brother in Baltimore, as well as Ill Camille (again) and Ms. Lauryn Hill at the BGR! Fest in D.C. When I wasn’t at a show, I was playing music nonstop, planning and looking for more shows to attend. I needed to stay in my happy place.
My love for music and need to experience music in a live space was important in the way I moved throughout life after losing my dad and grandmother. My need to go to these concerts distracted me from the overwhelming sadness I suppressed, especially in public. The music and shows brought me peace at a time when I couldn’t fully vocalize the traumatic summer I had gone through. The grief I hid behind smiles, concerts and constant movement was real. I definitely had my angels protecting me, but I quietly went through the grief.
Kenyon Dixon and amirahrashidah after The Urban Embassy’s showcase. Baltimore, September 2019.
Terrace Martin and amirahrashidah during Robert Glasper’s Blue Note residency. NYC, October 2019.
amirahrashidah and Ms. Lauryn Hill at the Black Girls Rock! Festival. Washington, D.C., March 2020.
“I needed the distraction, the peace of mind [...] concerts were my therapy.”
I didn’t realize that concerts were serving me in a therapeutic purpose until COVID-19 halted life as we knew it. Being still for a few months, along with experiencing my first Ramadan without my dad, brought out emotions in me that I thought I had moved past. In some ways, depressing thoughts overwhelmed me in those moments. Lyrics from Solange’s “Cranes In The Sky” echoed in my head, bringing to surface the need to be active through this grieving phase. The pandemic forced me to be still and to attempt to cope in other ways. It’s still an ongoing process…because does grief ever really end? After various conversations with folks around grief, I don’t think it really does.
That’s not to say that live music no longer served me during the pandemic. Instagram Lives and livestream concerts, DJ sets, Verzuz battles, and more gave me purpose. They brought me joy. They reminded me that I wasn’t alone, that I will be okay, even in what feels like dark days. Now that venues are starting to open up and live in-person shows are starting to happen again, I find happiness in knowing that I’ll be able to scream, sing, and move (sometimes gracefully) to the lyrics and rhythms again. I’ll be able to feel the energy of the artist by being in the same room as them. And, even though I dislike standing venues, because I’m short and folks can be rude in those spaces, I’m actually looking forward to being around people who are as excited as I am. The energy in the space will elevate me in ways I can’t fully explain. I anticipate and am grateful for these moments of continued healing.
My deepest gratitude to all of the artists that poured from themselves at all of the shows that I attended. The sense of peace you provided me while I struggled through my grief is priceless.