The Cellar - Goddess, Thy Name Is Tina

She's a little thicker through the middle. Where she used to take three dance steps in rapid succession, she now does one. Perfectly understandable for the reigning diva of rock and roll, Tina Turner, who will turn 69 years old next month. Selene and I saw Tina tonight at Sprint Center here in KC, and I'm just now starting to come down off of the pure endorphin ecstasy produced by her two hour, lavishly produced show.

At her age, most women, performers or not, would be luxuriating in their well earned retirements, perhaps pondering an album of standards, or resting on their laurels doing small club dates for the truly hardcore fans. Not Tina. Anna Mae Bullock couldn't be further from Nutbush in her life than she is now, but every ounce of the balls, grit and pure, raw emotional power she left that flyspeck town with is still flowing strong. When she tells you that she is the Acid Queen, she is, by the gods, the Acid Queen...still, and always.

A local reviewer who saw her tour-opening show here a week ago described the production and costuming as "Vegas on human growth hormone" - but he meant it as a compliment. Wearing Bob Mackie and Dior, performing from a stage that seemed to be more Transformer than mere platform, with hydraulic platforms and an entire section that raised from the floor, became a boom arm, and swung out over the audience as Tina gyrated in spike heels ten feet above the floor, the spectacle could have been kitschy and contrived. When she donned the grotesque blonde wig and an outfit that recalled her Thunderdome costuming, she did not even remotely seem self-parodying or pathetic. This is no small achievement for someone eligible for Medicare.

You could put Tina Turner in the Ice Capades, with Disney characters swarming about on skates, and she would melt the rink. With four gorgeous, young dancers performing behind her, she was the diva, belting out her greater and lesser hits with the same coarse, deeply earnest voice of her youth, commanding the spotlight and holding the crowd rapt. With those same four youthful terpsecorians gyrating alongside her, she joined in and held her own, a beacon of energy illuminating the cavernous venue. Without exception, when Tina would break into her brief dance bits, the crowd exploded in a wave of appreciation and approval...that's how convincing she was.

The spectacular production numbers - Thunderdome (We Don't Need Another Hero), replete with an open front cage swarming with acrobats stage fighting and pyrotechnics exploding behind; Goldeneye, with Bondesque video projected behind her as Tina emerged from a giant iris reminiscent of the point blank rifled gun barrels so often seen in Bond film intros - were stupefyingly well executed. But Tina and her band shone brightest when they came out after the intermission, sitting on chairs and stools, playing primarily acoustic guitars, and did an amazing arrangement of The Beatles "Help", along with three other numbers that highlighted just how honest and real her voice and delivery truly are. It was a nasty ass Blues set, straight out of some roadhouse, with just a little bit of spit polish to shine it up.

Perhaps most astounding to me is the fact that after forty years of doing "Proud Mary", she can still manage to make 14,000-odd people feel, to a person, that she still cared about it. Fogerty wrote it, CCR got tons of airplay with it...but Tina Turner owns that song, and always will.

I don't know if I'll ever really understand exactly *why* Tina Turner has always held such power over me, but as I watched this singular and remarkable performer ply her craft, I underwent a palpable emontional, physical, biochemical transformation. I went into the Zone, and I hope I never come out. The superb sound (hands down the best concert mix I have ever heard in 35 years of concerts) rendered every single word, note and nuance as crystal clear as though it were being presented in your living room. The outpouring of love sent to the stage from the audience was thick enough to cut with a chainsaw.

If you are fortunate enough to have this tour stopping in your town, I encourage you to go see it. You really should get to have this experience if possible, because I don't know if Tina will still be able to do this exact sort of thing five or six years down the road...

...but I wouldn't bet against it.