Impressions of American Idol's Taylor Hicks- Live and in Person

My true impetus for purchasing American Idol concert tickets was the desire to see Taylor Hicks. And oh, what a desire it was. I'd been patiently (or perhaps not-so-patiently) waiting for this day to arrive ever since Ryan uttered those fateful words 5 minutes before the conclusion of the finale:

"The winner of American Idol season 5 is...Taylor Hicks!" (I never get sick of hearing it).

While its true that I'd long wished to see Taylor in the flesh, it was not until that night, when he burst out with his thankful, culminating declaration of "Soul Patrol!", that the wish evolved into a need. It was so inspiring to see his tall silhouette awash in cascading confetti- visual proof that his dream was finally at the point of realization. Certainly I'm not unique in this sentiment, as I imagine many felt a similar craving to see him perform live, particularly after witnessing the ultimate payoff of his reported 10 year struggle.

So obviously, knowing that Taylor would appear near the show's end, my elation meter was on a steady rise as the concert progressed. Yet, when the girls were performing their group song, I was hit with an odd feeling of trepidation, and perhaps a twinge of sadness. This was resultant, I suppose, of knowledge that Taylor's impending arrival on stage would alleviate that sweet anticipation that had become such an emotional adjunct over the past weeks. I knew that once he set foot on stage, once he let loose his first few notes- my expectancy will have requisitely transmuted into reality. In the brief seconds before Taylor entered, I wondered what would be the result of this paradigm shift- I questioned whether his performance could really live up to my inflated expectations.

And then, the lights rapidly dimmed...

...and suddenly it was Christmas morning. It was New year's eve, just as the clock struck 12. It was the 4th of July, with fireworks blazing. It was Jailhouse Rock. It was Taylor.

As he entered through the audience in a section far removed from mine, I heard him long before I ever saw him. There's no mistaking that voice; powerful, melodious, dichotomous in its raw purity. I now know that the television does little to showcase the true strength of his voice, as the way it permeates the entire venue is absolutely stunning in person. When he sings it produces an almost tangible force that seems to homogenize with the atmosphere. For the brief period that the audience exists within his realm, it seems they forgo even air in favor of the music- they drink it in and live off of it, just as he does.

As he inched his way closer to my general seating location, I finally caught sight of the man in all his glory. Peering off to my left-hand side, I glimpsed a figure glowing amidst the dark room. In what seemed to be a reflex action, I pointed and squealed "Taylor!" before even my brain had fully registered what I was viewing. As the images slowly began seeping into my cerebrum, I was quite struck with what I saw. That silver hair was ablaze under the bright lights, like some flame that's too white-hot to touch. His dark eyes were smoldering like black coals that were all too pleased to be feeding the fire. He was moving and grooving his way to the stage, slightly impeded by the dense crowd of admirers and their extremities- hands and arms flailing in a valiant attempt at getting a touch of their idol.

What hit me the most in that moment was that none of the fanfare appeared to shake him. In fact, it was quite the contrary, as it seemed he was rather fueled by it. The more the crowd crackled and burned with cheers and applause, the more Taylor growled, got down and gave it his all. In true symbiotic fashion, his increased fervor spurred further gregarious salutation from the fans. He absolutely alighted the venue in these first minutes, singing his heart out until the entire audience was consumed by his fire. And while he danced in the stands, amidst the smitten spectators being reduced to ruins, he kept smiling and fanning the flames- unabashedly loving every last second of it.

By the start of his second song, Hollywood Nights, Taylor was fully onstage, cherry red guitar in tow. This marked the onset of an energetic trio of songs, all of which were performed with such vivacity that the audience simply couldn't bear to sit down. As I remember it, the third number was Living for the City, followed by Don't let me Down. Sadly, I must perpetuate an old cliche here, and admit that the whole thing remains a bit of a blur. Certainly I can recall particular specifics, predominantly of his entrance and exit, but undoubtedly there are many details that have escaped my grasp. While the factual memory is indeed unreliable, thankfully human capacity for emotional remembrance is far more dependable. Although I may forget precisely what he wore, or in what order the songs were performed, I'll always be able to recollect just how electric it was in that arena on July 21st, 2006.

Soon Taylor had moved on to the song that's become synonymous with his Idol victory- Do I Make You Proud. Following a brief dedication to the troops, he let loose with one of the strongest, most poignant renditions I've yet heard. His soul was irrefutably laid bare during this interpretation, and it was a marvel to behold. It's apparent that when Taylor is onstage, he doesn't sing songs, or even perform them- he becomes the songs. There exists an apparently seamless flow between his mind, body, and passion for the craft. His emotional and physical integration with the work was so precise that it was impossible to determine where Taylor ended and DIMYP began.

Surely the same could be said for the effort put forth on his encore, Taking it to the Streets. He danced, strutted, shuffled, felt the music inside of him and let it out in any way he deemed fit. When finally he reached for his harmonica he rocked that harp as if his very life depended on it. The harmonica, the guitars, even the tambourine served as conduits for his electricity, and infused the songs with a spark that galvanized the crowd. Those who were fans at the outset screamed and cheered alongside the newly converted, and I thought to myself- it doesn't get much better than this. How could I have feared that the performance wouldn't be all that I'd hoped? My lofty expectations had been shattered the very moment Taylor set foot on stage.

After the encore, the top 8 contestants returned to the stage for one final number, and were eventually joined by the victor. Taylor and the others boogied around with a great deal of camaraderie, and all too soon, they were gone. Taylor exited through a set of doors built onstage, and was aided in his departure by a large plume of manufactured smoke. As the white fog slowly dispersed, the stage began to look a bit lonesome without its charismatic star.

For those of us who have been disenchanted by the current state of popular music, it seems that Taylor might just provide the cure. One gets the impression that when he performs it's not simply out of desire- it's also a matter of necessity. Music isn't merely what he does, it's what he's meant do. It's unexpected to see performer of such extraordinary passion winning a national, mainstream pop competition. Undoubtedly, his win implies that there is a consensus craving for more depth in today's musical landscape. Indeed, it appears that the change so abstractly promised in Taylor's audition really is 'gonna come'. This is the Hicks revolution, and it's only just beginning. As for myself, I'm glad that I'll always be able to say, "I saw him when..."