Brittany Howard and Michael Kiwanuka share a soulful evening at Palace Theatre
October 07, 2024
On Sunday night, Brittany Howard and Michael Kiwanuka joined forces on a double bill to articulate life experiences through soulful funk, rock, and R&B at Palace Theatre. Howard was once the leader of the roots-rock band Alabama Shakes before taking a hiatus in 2018 to pursue a solo career. The jump paid off with two acclaimed albums, which she brought to life on the St. Paul tour stop. Kiwanuka’s first album in five years, Small Changes, is out in November, and he used his time on stage to preview several tender tracks to come.
Folk/country opener Yasmin Williams shared an intimate story, too. The origin of her music career: Guitar Hero II. She learned to master all levels by placing the guitar face-up on her lap, a position she continues today. Williams carried her acoustic instrument on stage with the calmness of someone about to sit down in their bedroom to practice alone. Playing songs from her newly released album, Acadia, the artist used her tap shoes and a kalimba placed on her guitar to add dimension to her performance. Her songs don’t contain words, so the entertainment value came from her sheer talent, stroking and plucking the strings so quickly that her fingers became a blur. With the guitar on her lap for “Hummingbird,” Williams picked complex chords with both hands to create harp and ukulele-like sounds and hit her fist on the instrument’s body to mimic drums. Surprisingly, not one string broke.
Next, Kiwanuka and his eight bandmates set a cozy mood for the first headline performance of the night. Under warm lighting, the British artist burned incense to create a relaxing olfactory sensation. Songs like “Final Days” from his most recent album, 2019’s KIWANUKA, felt like a summer sunset’s warm breeze. On the new single, “Lowdown (part ii),” a warped guitar pedal and keyboard created shimmering and soothing textures mixed with cymbals.
Throughout the set, human intimacy of all kinds — a baby’s facial expressions, an adult holding a child’s hand, hands holding a rosary, and an older couple embracing — was projected on a screen behind the musicians. The cinematics played over songs of challenging emotions, like acknowledging one's own needs: “Show me love, show me happiness (help me),” he sang on “Rule the World.” “I can't do this on my own / Take me / Help me.” A moving image of two people staring into each other's eyes played during “Hard To Say Goodbye” as Kiwanuka sang, “Little butterfly without wings, how do you fly? / You're holdin' on so tight that you don't even try / And if I had a dream / Love would be sunshine for me.” The visuals of everyday affection grounded painful narratives with simplicity and served as a reminder of our potential for kindness.
The musicians playing alongside Kiwanuka produced luscious sounds. They decorated “You Ain’t the Problem” and “Tell Me a Tale” with bongos and shakers, and their thick drum thumps and sliding synthesizers aided soul-searching on “The Rest Of Me.” Three backing singers expanded the songs' vocal range and amplified the energy of the entire set, though they occasionally overpowered Kiwanuka's voice and fuzzed lyrics.
The seven-minute “Love & Hate” was the performance’s climax. Running away from his own demons and earning for a better future, Kiwanuka sang, “You can't take me down / You can't break me down / You can't take me down.” Energizing keys solidified the resilient message.
Resilience is also an essential theme in Brittany Howard’s body of work — strongly exemplified in “13th Century Metal,” the melodic monologue about self-love for the purpose of creating community in which she asserts, “I don’t know about you / But I’m tired of this bull***t / And I wanna try / To do the best that I can.” Howard’s pitch-perfect voice, an instrument of its own played with howls and gasps between notes, unleashed the strength necessary to navigate conflict.
Howard’s album What Now, full of dense sonic layering, sees the push and pull of power: obtaining and then relinquishing it. The show’s sequence of “Prove It to You,” a psychedelic house track, followed by “Power to Undo” was the strongest burst of energy and tug-of-war. On the former, Howard yearns to communicate and express love, and on the latter, she begins with “You have the power to undo everything that I want / But I won't let you” and arrives at a forfeit: “You have the power because I gave it to you / You have the power.” The album’s title track sees the singer surrendering in the name of freedom.
Unlike the more-poetic What Now, Howard’s debut album, Jaime, comes with a restless energy in intimate, clear-cut storytelling. “Goat Head” details a hate crime committed against her father that came with an illustration of reality as a mixed family in an unforgiving community. “My mama was brave / To take me outside / ’Cause mama is white / And daddy is Black / When I first got made / Guess I made these folks mad,” she sang, gesturing to her body. Howard explained the origin of “Baby” to the crowd, calling love a mental workout and describing a lover who didn’t pay bills or take out the trash, but still had the nerve to call her “baby.” Her elongated falsetto screamed into the mic at arm’s length was a proclamation of animosity.
The singer’s energy increased midway through the set. Howard holds a powerful presence when standing front and center and commanding with her guitar, but it seemed like something clicked on “History Repeats,” when she slapped her thigh and let the boogieing to funky jazz begin. Her cover of Nina Simone’s “Revolution” unleashed a passionate surge of energy, leading to making eye contact with those on the ground and balcony.
The night ended with a seed of optimism: “I believe In a world where we can go outside / And be who we want and see who we like / And love each other through this wild ride,” Howard sang on “Another Day.” Her eight band members, including two backing vocalists, gracefully exited and left behind a sentimental atmosphere.
Though the tour brands the two acts as co-headliners, Howard’s enthusiasm felt natural as the final set. That, and her 90-minute slot in contrast to Kiwanuka’s 60-minute time limit. What the bands both excelled at was carrying their leaders’ messages with a cohesive sound. It was fitting treatment for the passionate words of two of today’s finest songwriters.
