Hunched over in their jackets, their scarves and their sweaters, people sought refuge from the wind. They showed physical signs of impatience as the line to get into the Hippodrome slowly progressed, each one wanting only to reach the Baltimore theater’s warm lobby with its soft light and regal carpeting.
Founded in 1914, everything about the Hippodrome, right down to the vertical marquee that bears its name to North Eutaw Street, says old school. The beauty of the theatre — its muraled ceiling, its maroon and gold color scheme — is ignorant of the times and their styles. The night’s headliner, Leon Bridges, had gotten there by being the exact same way. His voice, his movement and his lyrics are reminiscent of times past, times that the Hippodrome thrived off. On this night, venue and showman were a perfect match and the result was a brief suspension of time.
The crowd was as varied and eclectic as you’re likely to see at a concert in 2016. Age-wise, the range ran from older, professor-types with their watches and button-ups and thick glasses to twentysomething hipsters with their boots and parkas and thick-rimmed glasses. Racially, it was as diverse as the city it sampled.
After opener Son Little gave the crowd a solid 30-minute set, Bridges took the stage. Wearing a white and gray plaid sports jacket and purple pants, he looked like the suavest game-show host you’ve ever seen. He was backed by three guitarists, an organist, a drummer and backup vocalist Brittni Jessie. The Hippodrome’s stage was large enough to make the spacing of the band quite wide, and some were on small platforms, giving the whole setup a very fitting, very Ed Sullivan Show feel. Any time Bridges left the microphone stand to shimmy, shuffle or shake across the stage, he played nicely into that vibe. Bursts of cheers reminiscent of those formerly elicited by a Chuck Berry duck walk or an Elvis windmill punctuated these moments.
They opened with the smooth, pacey commercial hit “Smooth Sailin'” and Bridges went several songs before addressing the crowd in a quiet, humble tone.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said. He promised not to talk too much because it’s “always awkward.”
“We’re just here to make you feel good,” he added. “So we’re gonna play some songs.”
On iTunes and streaming services, Bridges’ voice has the unique ability to sound like the clearest record in your grandmother’s collection. It is somewhat fuzzy, somewhat scratchy, yet still dips and rises with pure clarity. And at times on Friday night, with eyes closed or the voice’s source out of view, it sounded just like a recording, like a sound perfected with repetition and sculpted with something electric.
The age of the venue meant space between rows was tight. During the opening act and the first few songs of the headlining set, fans couldn’t decide whether to remain in their seats or stand and dance in the limited spaces available. But by the time Bridges played his hit “Better Man,” the crowd was on its feet and stayed that way.
Playing mostly upbeat songs, Bridges kept the atmosphere energetic and went out on a long, rousing riff by the band. But a standing ovation drew an encore and the encore is where things changed. The carefree feelings of the night, the feeling time had somehow been suspended and nothing really mattered besides this kind of simple, ageless fun drifted away with “River.”
“River” is a song that’s slow enough and powerful enough to change the atmosphere of a concert right away. But on this night there was another layer to its performance. Last month, the 26-year-old released the video for the song. Filmed in Baltimore, it is more of a short film than a music video. It features a mix of footage, including some of Bridges singing in a dingy motel room as coverage of the 2015 Baltimore protests play on a TV in the corner. In another shot, a man walks home with blood on his shirt and the blue and red of police headlights flashing in the background. He enters the house to the screams of a baby. He lays on a mattress for a while, clearly tired, before picking up the child and holding it close as rain begins to fall outside the window. It’s a video about healing, a work of depth to match a song of true brilliance from such a young mind.
In the crowd, it wasn’t clear how many people had seen the video or made the connection. But the shift of feeling in the room was palpable. Twists and turns became subtle sways and most people chose only to mouth the words or quietly hum the tune.
“Take me to your river,” he sang under a single spotlight. “I want to go.”
This second finish drew thunderous applause, but a type that differed slightly from that offered to the first finale. The stage went dark and what had been an exceptional show was officially over. The crowd put their layers back on and headed for the doors, preparing once again to face the frigid evening wind.
