anaiis practiced divinity, presence, and collective liberation, not only through her lyrics and performance, but also the musings she shared between songs and a prayer she lifted up at a packed Songbyrd Music House in Washington, D.C.
The spiritual night started with Elliot Skinner, who sang thoughtful, story-driven songs, matching his emotional tone with existential perspectives on fatherhood and perseverance.
After a short, memorable set from Skinner, anaiis came out in a flowy black outfit and a golden headpiece. a graceful look.
She performed much of Devotion and the Black Divine, whose ethereal world is assembled by first-person narratives, an affirmation directed to the Black listener (maybe herself?), and interludes from other artists.
Her performance was truthful to such a degree that when she sang about the sun, you felt the embrace of a summer morning. She used this power to enumerate on the difficulty and joy that melds within the effort to love, unify, resist, grieve, and dream. Her voice stopped you in your tracks, and she and the band excelled throughout the show, with their talents most clear during slower songs.
She expressed solidarity with the people of Palestine, Congo, and Sudan, tying the movement for collective liberation to the stage. It was welcome in a city fighting for statehood while occupied by the National Guard and dozens of federal agencies, including fuckass ICE.
anaiis closed her eyes and at times sat down for many of the most striking vocal runs of the show, allowing the crowd to immerse themselves in the moment instead of focusing just on her. She gave off a feeling of warmth, with a beaming smile that read as gratitude for everyone and everything that goes into creating moments like this.
The crowd got more in sync with her throughout the show, and ‘Sunshine’ was a big highlight, with the house excitedly singing along with her:
Make my heart beat a little, Sunshine
Make my heart beat a little, Sunshine, shine
(refrain)
The performance evoked such emotion that I, and I believe others, wept. Not a few tears here or there, but true waterworks, a fully embodied, public cry.
Many sing and act with reverence for and a desire to love, but only a beautiful few tear away the veil between the stage and audience. The journey through which anaiis takes the listener on the album has seemingly dissolved the buffer, with her attitude to the world stating clearly that her love is true and experienced. She lives the second interlude from Adrienne Maree Brown that states softly and bluntly, “freedom is an act of togetherness.”
anaiis’ light uncovered everyone in the room, giving us the gift of shining along with her.
