Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons

The best acts I saw at Bumbershoot 2011, Mavis Staples and Charles Bradley had combined, nearly 100 years of singing between them. While it was all fine and good to see young bands, people just starting their careers, play to the largest crowds of their lives, they paled in comparison to seeing a powerhouse like Mavis, with 55 years of performing professionally step on stage and do her thing. I mean, of course they did. It’s the difference between seeing an All-Star Game and a AAA game, and Mavis was the MVP.

The lawn was packed at the Mural Amphitheater stage for Mavis’ headlining set. The crowd spanned all ages, though largely middle-aged, children of the ’50s and ’60s who came of age with Mavis singing songs about the civil rights movement, bringing down the house at The Last Waltz and disco dancing to “I’ll Take You There.” The smiles were abundant, as were the cries of “I love you Mavis,” to which Mavis always responded, with the biggest grin of them all, “I love you more.” Mavis took Seattle to church and if worship was ever anything like I witnessed that night, I would most certainly be devout.

It was impossible to not stand in awe of Mavis. Not only because of the rich rasp of her voice, a voice that will go down as one of the greatest ever recorded, but because of her presence. Despite wearing a demure beaded black outfit appropriate for church or the mother of the bride, Staples was brassy and sassy on stage, pretending to punch out her guitarist, flipping shit to her older sister and back-up singer Yvonne and flirting cheekily with the rest of the band. There were no nerves or insecurities or an “aww geez, aww shucks” about the size of the crowd, yet she was never blasé about it either. This is the type of crowd Mavis plays to nightly and she seemed grateful, gracious and self-assured she’d earned every single fan there.

I stood side-stage mouth slightly agape at what I was witnessing. A legend. A lifetime of songs and meaning crammed into a 45 minute set. The triple header of “The Weight” into “You Are Not Alone” and “Freedom Highway,” is easily one of the most powerful, palpable musical moments of my life. As Mavis spun yarns about each song, calling each member of The Band out by name, “on night’s like this, we give thanks to friends.” Speaking warmly of Jeff Tweedy from Wilco who wrote the Grammy-winning “You Are Not Alone” and telling the crowd that “Freedom Highway” was written about “the march, the big march from Selma to Montgomery.” It was as if you were witnessing history, taught and told in song before your very eyes, by a lady who lived it fully. She called out her “dear friend Bob Dylan” and talked shit about Obama’s detractors in “My Country.” She held court, like the queen that she is.

After even the best shows I’ve seen, I can see how it would be easy to pick apart, to see how someone else could have disliked it. But not so with Mavis’ Bumbershoot set. If you didn’t love it, you simply weren’t lucky enough to be there.

Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons

Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons

Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons

Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons

Mavis Staples ::: photo by Abbey Simmons