I sit here at my desk in the wee hours of Saturday morning, cuddled in my Ivy Park hoodie, still reeling from the performance I just witnessed at New Jersey's MetLife Stadium this past evening. This final stop on Beyoncé's Formation Tour was serendipitous, really. My Bey concert was supposed to be back in September, but due to vocal rest (and a seemingly lit birthday), Beyoncé had to postpone the date.
At first I was afraid; I was petrified. Kept thinking Beyoncé would cancel that date indefinitely (I couldn't continue with that Gloria Gaynor reference, sorry). But she didn't, and so here we are. Now I, as a bona fide member of the Bey Hive (official membership pending approval), can rock back and forth on my heels and say, “YES! I WAS THERE WHEN BEYONCÉ CLOSED OUT THE FORMATION TOUR!”
Okay, but what does that really mean for us all?
Listen, there is no part of me that will pretend to grasp the gravity of what Lemonade means within the context of being Black. Because I’m not Black. But what I am is an ally, who dove head first into this project and appreciated Beyoncé's intimacy in detailing what goes on in a woman's mind and heart when she's scorned. We reach for baseball bats, we reach for boxes of chocolate, we reach for the ones who hurt us. And while Beyoncé indefinitely told the world, "I'm not an icon, I'm a Black icon" with this project, what she also did was finalize the culmination of her peeling back her layers since 2013's eponymous project and showing us the realest version of her.
So I sat this evening and watched that in real time. I watched the fireworks that came from the stage and the heavens as Bey traveled through her sonic journey with her hits like "Party," "Crazy In Love," "Diva," "Run the World (Girls)," "Flawless," "Halo," and "Drunk In Love"—where Jay obviously came out for his verse—along with every last drop of Lemonade.
Bey powered through "Sorry" (with Serena Williams dancing on the stage beside her), "All Night," "Daddy Lessons," "Freedom," where even Kendrick Lamar came on stage. It was all so marvelous. Her costumes, the stage set up with pyrotechnics, fireworks, and even a mock sea…it was like climbing into your TIDAL account or TV set to HBO and living the mini-movie all over again. You've read the reviews; you know the show. And yes it's true when they (and by "they" I mean "me") say that the energy in a Beyoncé show is intoxicating. I'm drunk in love.
But again, now what? Beyoncé gave us this raw emotional work of art, once again shape-shifting the paradigm of how you roll out an album (remember with the Beyoncé project when she redefined the element of surprise?), birthing think pieces and self-reflection. Now if she comes back with the emotional equivalent of buffet pants when she just hugged us tightly in leggings, will we feel slighted? Or was that purging enough to sate us for a while so she can circle back to "Bootylicious" (she also performed that) style cuts or something? Seriously, what the hell do we do now that Lemonade has run its course?
We're hearing that Jay Z's official Lemonade response will be in the form of a world tour. Every other day we think Beyoncé is pregnant with Baby #2. Whether speculation or nah, Bey just showed us her barest most vulnerable self with this sixth solo studio album. Now I feel like Puff at the end of "Victory" shouting "What are we gonna do NOW?"
So yeah, Beyoncé made me wait for my Lemonade, but she inevitably delayed this "Come to Jesus" moment I’m having right now. I'm sure I'm not alone with my concerns. Now we sit and wait.