A Wonder Autumn Night

I have seen, and more to the point, heard, most all of the significant artists of the rock and roll era. Paul McCartney, The Rolling Stones, Elton John, Eric Clapton, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, U2, REM, The Eagles, and Don Henley as a solo, James Taylor, Billy Joel, ZZ Top, BB King, Buddy Guy, Van Morrison, Al Green, Paul Simon, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, and Bob Dylan more times than I can count anymore (14, I believe), are all among the performers/bands that I have seen on multiple occasions. One glaring omission on my concert resume was Stevie Wonder. Stevie is, of course, one of the towering figures of American music. He is our Paul McCartney in terms of his prolific command of melodies and lyrics, and our John Lennon in his use of his platform to change the course of history through protest.
He is universally admired for his refusal to be limited or defined by his blindness. That complete and total lack of self-pity was instilled by his mother. She would not abide anyone (including Stevie himself) treating her son differently from any other child, and through that insistance she enabled him to accomplish everything that he has done. He has won 25 Grammy awards, sold more albums (eleven top tens) and singles (29 top tens) than can be counted, and been a reliable performer for more than 40 years now. When Paul Simon won the Album of the Year Grammy in 1976 for Still Crazy After All These Years, he thanked Stevie Wonder for not putting out an album that year. Stevie had won Album of the Year in 1974 for Innervisions, and 1975 for Fulfillingness' First Finale; he would win again in 1977 for Songs In the Key of Life.
I had never seen Stevie perform until his visit to the FedEx Forum last Sunday night. He walked onto the stage, guided by his daughter, Aisha. She was the little girl giggling and splashing in the bathtub as the subject of Isn't She Lovely, now grown, and one of her dad's backup singers. He began by introducing his daughter, and talking about how all of the men in the audience were probably ogling the very attractive Miss Morris. He told us to be careful, as, "I carry a shotgun. Blind man with a shotgun, yeah; Bang! Hah, Steve, you missed me. Bang!" That was his line. He has always put others at ease about his blindness. If it's not a problem for him, why should it be for anyone else?
He explained that this tour started on May 31, 2006, with the death of his mother. After the worst day of his life, he decided that he wouldn't play, write or perform any more. Then, he saw her come to him in a dream between her death and the funeral. She said to him, "Boy, you better get your ass up and get to work!" And the tour started. Stevie said that he was traveling the country to thank everyone who had supported his music, and allowed him to give his mother a better life than she could ever have had otherwise. It was truly a sweet moment. He than sat down and played.
And played, and played, and played. For the next two hours and 45 minutes, Stevie told stories, had fun, and played that spectacular music that he has shared with the world since the early 1960's. There were only two songs in the whole show whose lyrics I didn't know. We all know Stevie Wonder, but when you sit in his audience, listening to him go from hit to hit to hit, it is stunning. He performed two 45 minute medleys with everything a major song following major song. One of those sets:
My Cherie Amour
Uptight (Everything's Alright)
I Was Made to Love Her
For Once in My Life
Do I Do
Sir Duke
I Wish
You Are the Sunshine of My Life
Superstition
The other lengthy medley was just as impressive.
And it was fun. I don't know that I have ever had more fun at a concert than on Sunday last. The first McCartney show I attended, at the Liberty Bowl in 1993, was close, but an evening with Stevie Wonder is a blast. Even when he preached a far better sermon during the song Visions (from Innervisions) than I had delivered that morning, it was fun. And how great is it to see someone who has been famous all his life, and still lives up to the image in person that he has carried all those years. His audience reflected his universal appeal, with equal numbers of black and white in attendance. The only down note of the night: Memphis' notorious indifference to musicians was on full display, as the house was barely more than half full. Even that didn't affect Stevie, as he acknowledged our traditions with a talkbox medley of Soul Man, Shaft and Return to Sender, followed later by Sitting On the Dock of the Bay. He also threw in a little nod to the dear and departed Godfather of Soul, with Say It Loud-I'm Black and I'm Proud. Anybody who can conjure up Sam and Dave, Isaac Hayes, Elvis, Otis Redding and James Brown in the middle of his show is plenty good enough for me!
Do yourself a favor: if you ever have the chance, get thee to a Wonder show! He will lift your spirits; he will challenge your conscience; he will entertain you; he will play a significant portion of the soundtrack of your life; he will insist that you sing along with him, and, at points, instead of him. And unless you are very, very careful, he may even have you up dancing!