Remembering Sharon Jones: Me & Ms. Jones

I miss Sharon Jones.

As I write this the lovable soul singer has been dead for less than a month and still I miss her. This year has brought about what feels like an unprecedented number of deaths of talented musicians. David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard, Leon Russell and Prince – who Jones herself paid tribute to earlier this year – are just a few of those who left us in 2016. Losing Sharon hit me hardest and continues to stir up melancholy emotions when I’m reminded of her passing.

Of all the talented musicians who passed away in 2016, I saw Ms. Jones perform live the most. I was lucky enough to see Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings on a number of occasions and in variety of settings. In 2009 I was at Phish’s Halloween concert in which the covered The Rolling Stones’ LP Exile On Main St., watching with an almost sense of pride as Sharon added backing vocals. The last time I heard her unmistakable voice performing live was earlier this year at free performance with The Dap-Kings in Seattle on April 16.

After her unexpected death following a hard fought battle with pancreatic cancer, I wrote about the first time I encountered Jones’ unmistakable voice. She was so fantastic, I explained, that I could pinpoint the exact moment – in Chicago while riding a train home from Midway airport – that Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings entered my life. There aren’t very many, if any, other singers I can say that about. From the very first note I was simply hooked on Sharon Jones.

One of my fondest memories of Sharon is from a Dap-Kings show I saw during that same time I was living in Chicago. I found myself alone at the top of The Vic Theatre in one of the last rows in the balcony. Despite being at the back of the house Sharon made me feel like I was in the front row. Her energy and enthusiasm permeated from the stage and onto everyone in attendance. When I close my eyes and picture Sharon Jones she’s performing that evening at The Vic with a smile the size of Lake Michigan on her face, dancing from one side of the stage to the other, seemingly just for me high up in the balcony.

Jones was undoubtedly soulful – pick almost any song in her catalog for an example – but she was also much more. Jones was political: checkout “What If We All Stopped Paying Taxes?” and “Ain’t No Chimneys In The Projects,” she could swing: checkout “Mama Don’t Like My Man,” she was funky: checkout “How Do I Let A Good Man Down?,” she was fun: checkout her holiday album or children’s record contributions and she was resilient: checkout her 2016 single “I’m Still Here.”

But the sad fact is that Sharon isn’t still here and damn it if that doesn’t seem unfair. Cancer cut her vibrant life and career short before she had finished telling us all the many things she had to stay. We have her music. We have our memories. And we have hope that she will continue to inspire courageously strong women for generations to come.

But, damn it. I sure do miss Sharon Jones.