On January 20, 2009, America celebrates the inauguration of our country's first African-American president. It has been a hopeful time, but also a moment of pride at our diversity and ability to come together despite our differences. This spirit made me think about a song we've been hearing many times these past couple of weeks: "The Star-Spangled Banner." Of course, our anthem has been performed at countless sports events, both beautifully and horribly (I'm talking to you, Roseanne Barr). But one performance stands out as one of the most moving, soul-inspiring renditions ever.
The scene: The Forum, Inglewood, California, February 13, 1983. The NBA All-Star Game was about to begin as the Eastern and Western Conference team members stood, awaiting the game's start. The public address announcer began his introduction of National Anthem as usual, but when the vocalist's name was uttered, cheers erupted from the stands. The lights dimmed and in strode a tall man dressed a dapper suit, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the bright lights of the arena. As he stepped up to the microphone, a drum machine kicked in.
No one knew then that this performer would change people's perceptions of "The Star-Spangled Banner" forever.
The singer was Marvin Gaye, the legendary Motown artist who had evolved from successful soul singer to activist to sex symbol. In the early '80s, unfortunately, he was struggling with drugs and bankruptcy, having moved back in with his parents to regroup.
In 1982, though, Gaye released his comeback album, Midnight Love, and the massive success of its first single, "Sexual Healing," proved that his voice had retained its passion and beauty. The album also underscored that he was still an artistic force to be reckoned with. Therefore, when Gaye emerged to sing the National Anthem, the NBA All-Star audience welcomed him enthusiastically.
The drum machine backing track immediately cued that this would be no ordinary rendition of the song. As soon as Gaye crooned its first line, the crowd cheered; after practically every verse, the people applauded. Astoundingly, they soon began clapping along with the rhythm. Seemingly energized by this reception, Gaye grinned and let loose his powerful voice and impressive range. Instead of singing in a restrained way, he let his soul and funk roots take center stage, his voice altering between raspy and smoothly melodic tones, his phrasing in the league of Frank Sinatra. Lingering over every lyric, he seemed to carefully consider each word, putting his unique stamp on the familiar verses.