In a stadium of strangers dressed in fabulous fringe, denim, boots, cowboy hats and other adornments in keeping with the Cowboy Carter aesthetic, I rediscovered something that I had long misplaced: Ebullient joy.
Beyoncé’s performance - three hours of artistry and awe that could make even the unfaithful believe there must be something divine behind her talent - unlocked part of me that I thought had been buried underneath burnout, parenting, aging and the weight of worry in this time.
While I’ll sing along in the car to “Irreplaceable” or dance to “CUFF IT” in the privacy of my home, these are the “cringe” (to quote my children) solo endeavors of a late 40-something woman who doesn’t feel she belongs on TikTok and respects the culture Beyoncé fosters too much to appropriate it. Concerts, however, are communal by design – permission, if you will, to let go among unjudgmental company.
If Beyoncé’s 2023 Renaissance World Tour drew comparisons to a post-pandemicspiritual revival, her Cowboy Carter performance in Los Angeles last month - my first time seeing her live - was my “Beytism.”
I needed a rebirth.
Crowded in too-little space during the peak of Covid, caring for a neurodivergent child whose sensory system is a tripwire to tiptoe around, hanging on to a career I love in a disrupted industry like it’s the last life raft of middle age, I’ve made myself smaller in recent years and realized more of my limitations than dreams. When my Ticketmaster-savvy younger colleagues invited me to go see Beyoncé, the $250 I spent on admission seemed like a small price to pay to fulfill one.
Art, at its best, evokes emotion, challenges us or offers an escape. Cowboy Carter accomplishes all three.
Like many of the 27 tracks on herGrammy-winning album of the year, her Cowboy Carter and Rodeo Chitlin’ Circuit Tour is a requiem toBlack artists who have helped shape country musicand a reclamation of Americana for those who have been shut out. Politics and presidents go unnamed, but the show is brilliantly wrapped in red, white, blue and a whole lot ofsymbolism.
Beyoncé hits all the notes and steps and soars in her Cowboy Carter production, while reminding you in her music and imagery projected on screens that her beautiful life, like all of ours, has been shaped by love, loss, effort and struggle. Montages of her ancestors, influences and personal moments play, revealing the ease with which she moves on stage, the comfort in her confidence, is not an act. It’s her hard-won evolution.
Sure, Beyoncé looks and sounds supernatural, but she sings accessible truths and invites you to do the same.
In a warm crowd that spanned generations and demographics, I shouted the lyrics of “Freedom,” cried through “Alligator Tears” and danced to “Diva” without self-consciousness. I don’t know exactly when in this decade my spirit started to dim, but I can say for certain the eight acts of the concert each turned a light back on within me.I felt unburdened, surrounded by people who too seemed to be shining in the empowering and wide open space created by Queen B.
“You lookin’ for a new America?” Beyoncé asks on “YA YA” before answering her question with a prayer and a call to action, “We gotta keep the faith.”
The song is a tribute to both her family history in a country yet to live up to its ideals and the American spirit of optimism. Her tour may celebrate aspects of “good ol’ USA,” but Beyoncé inspires hope with unapologetic honesty about its challenges.
And they are many.
This week, her show is back in the US after spending time across the Atlantic, where,it turns out,cowboys live, too.
God bless, Beyoncé.
Ten dates remain on the tour, with concerts scheduled in Houston, Washington, Atlanta and Las Vegas. In the spirit of those “buy the ticket, take the trip, have the experience” memes, if you’re able, you should go.
Not just for the costumes and choreography, which are as vivid as Beyoncé is blonde. Not just for a show that’s equal parts Dolly and Elvis, as soulful as Louisiana, as big and bold as her home state of Texas, and yet, singularly Beyoncé.
Go because in an era of division, tariff wars, ICE raids, heatwaves, protests and “America First,” Beyoncé is the ultimate reminder that our only real currency is our connection.
Since the show, my social media algorithms have become streams of likeminded post-Cowboy Carter concertgoers riding a BeyHive high, completevideos of peoplewearing personalized pageant sashes and BANG banners,overcome by the sightof Beyoncé on stage. Some may not understand it.I do. I see people energized by her excellence, holding on to homemade pieces of what’s possible.
I see myself in those faces, beaming and remembering, if only inside the venue, how good it feels to be free.