Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.As is the way with R&B royalty, the Soul Queen Of New Orleans is heralded by her band's loosener, a muscular "Superstition" that gets the crowd primed for some fatback funk. But when she is announced, Irma Thomas is nowhere to be seen, her voice appearing to float down from heaven. She finally appears, led gingerly up the steps stage left, microphone in hand, her voice astonishingly clear for one now into her eighth decade.
Her longevity may have something to do with a relative lack of mainstream success: unlike many of her soul peers from the Sixties, Thomas has performed constantly since, and that workload has helped her voice retain its power and emotional subtlety. As she works through hits such as "Time Is On My Side", "Ruler Of My Heart", "It's Raining", the bustling "Break-a-Way" and the majestic "Take A Look", her ability to sustain high notes is quite extraordinary. It seems a truly effortless delivery, Thomas barely opening her mouth as she sings and mining each phrase for maximum impact: her focus on the emotional heart of a line is like a dart through the soul.
Punctuating her show with genial patter about the effects of ageing – which in her case seem minimal – Thomas draws material from all corners of her career, the early hits balanced by later successes such as "In The Middle Of It All", from the Grammy-winning After The Rain (2007), which was recorded after Hurricane Katrina destroyed her Lion's Den club in New Orleans.
Statuesque in a sparkly, floor-length white gown, Thomas sways gently as her band peels off groove after groove, deftly handling audience requests for even the most outré items in her back catalogue. "We'll get that one out of the way, then get to the easy ones," she instructs the musicians, before launching into "Yours Until Tomorrow". The song's pleading is handled with remarkable poise.
Occasionally, she consults a huge tome on a lectern, to remind herself of a lyric. The thickness of the book is testament to an extraordinary career. "I haven't done that one for over 20 years!" she marvels, while searching for "In Between Tears", which she sings acappella, since her band hasn't rehearsed the song.
When you've been performing for over half a century, you get the job done any way it takes.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments