It is late June in Berkeley, and the evening stretches out like taffy at the Hearst Greek Theatre. Concertgoers, initially seeming to have little in common, unite for Earth, Wind & Fire’s sold out show as they lay out their blankets on the lawn. Bags unfurl with Caesar salad wraps and ciders. Once settled, attendees chatter excitedly with hands clamped to foreheads, shielding their faces from the bright rays of sun streaming over the amphitheater.
Every possible age group, style choice and Type-A-or-B personality has assembled for the band. Everyone is courteous to the extra family trying to squeeze between them for a seat, and friendships are formed across disparate groups. A 60-year-old in a sequined dress feigns a transatlantic accent as she converses with a man clad in Allbirds sneakers and Patagonia quarter-zip. His daughter wears pink star-shaped sunglasses and grips his index finger in her fist.
By the time a 10-minute countdown appears on stage, the high tides of nostalgia have begun to splash over the older crowd, the audience’s most prevalent group. The show itself begins with a montage of Earth, Wind & Fire’s many eras, of course beginning with fresh-faced band members in their ’70s-chic bell-bottoms. With the first guitar riff of “Shining Star,” a silver-haired man stops playing Candy Crush and pockets his phone. Simultaneously, he begins to toy at his wife’s bra clasp, a forgotten flush of lust suddenly reignited.
The members of Earth, Wind & Fire groove onto the stage in bedazzled suits. They have 50 years on the afro-clad boys from the montage behind them, but life still radiates from their contagious smiles. Even after decades of performing, six Academy Awards and nine platinum records, Earth, Wind & Fire still retain the essence of a group of friends who happen to be exceptionally talented musicians. They smile and laugh with each other as they waltz from stage left to stage right, sending each section of the crowd into an uproar as they greet them with gyrating hips and wide grins.
Unfortunately, the band’s music is oddly quiet, making it difficult to hear the songs at certain points as people continue to converse on the lawn. However, the instruments still shine as they create a cascade of boogie. Philip Bailey and Ralph Johnson’s vocals are charming and smooth, and Gary Bias’ saxophone warbles like it is singing in harmony. Verdine White’s replacement, Oakland native Raymond McKinley known affectionately as RayMac, “takes us down the road” with his buoyant bass. Each instrument has a moment to shine throughout the show, as the performance is filled with fun riffs instead of purely rote renditions of its classics.
Earth, Wind & Fire knows its target audience well, calling out to the lovers in the audience for “After the Love Has Gone” and asking, “Y’all got good memories?” when the introductory harmony of “Love’s Holiday” beats out. “You have no idea!” yells a woman dancing with her hands raised as if in prayer. Couples lounge into each other; one holds another in a neverending embrace as they sway to the rhythm. Love is a physical presence, wafting through the air like the music.
The show builds to Earth, Wind & Fire’s powerhouses, with hit after hit proving that the band is tantamount to disco funk as a genre. “Boogie Wonderland,” “Let’s Groove,” “September” and “In the Stone” each have its own individual magic in inspiring dance, and each track brings the Greek’s energy to a new, previously unimaginable peak. All around, the entire crowd is on their feet, singing and dancing along to the lyrics, beats, ad-libs and riffs they know by heart. Each person is reliving their wedding reception, their son’s bar mitzvah and the dinner party with close friends that lasted all night.
After the show, flushed faces pack up their blankets as they hum earworms. “Yep,” they think. “If they’ve still got it, so do we.”
