When I heard the news of Frankie Beverly’s death on Sept. 10, I wasn’t only shocked; I was almost angry. It wasn’t fair. Sept. 10 was almost two months to the day since he and his band Maze played their final show on July 6 at Essence Fest in New Orleans.
After all he’d given us, why couldn’t he enjoy his retirement?
Those feelings slowly gave way to sadness, and then surprisingly to something I can only describe as peace. I leaned into what was unfolding it seemed everywhere I looked: these incredible outpourings of love for a man who spent the last 50 years writing soundtracks for so many of our most cherished memories, at barbeques, at graduation parties and family reunions.
Frankie Beverly actually left us in one of the best ways anyone could: on his own terms.
I Wanna Thank You
When he announced his retirement in February, telling the world he would retire after he closed Essence Fest in July — Beverly had always attended the annual gathering in New Orleans since it began 30 years ago — fans and contemporaries gave him all he could handle for his literal and figurative farewell tour.
Before this year, Beverly was rarely seen in public beyond his time performing on stages. But during the final Maze trek around the country, he appeared on numerous podcasts, including Questlove Supreme, where hosts showered him with appreciation and adoration.
As KRS-One reminded us following the death of rapper Fatman Scoop earlier this month, so many of our great Black musicians never got to experience that. Many never get the love and appreciation they were due while they were alive. Billie Holiday’s story is only one in series of stories about brilliant artists who died alone and in pain. People who never even got that one moment in the full sunshine. Fewer still get to the choose the sky under which they take their sunset ride.
The Farewell Tour
Michael Jackson died at age 50 while preparing for the “This Is It” tour. He said it would be his last time performing live and that he was ready to retire from live concerts and heal after being accused of acts for which he wasn’t found guilty, a number of which were retracted or proved false. He left the earth without the closure he deserved.
James Brown died at 73, three years before Jackson, on Christmas Day, 2006. It was week before he was slated play a New Years Eve concert in New York City.
Jackie Wilson spent his final eight years in a coma at a nursing home after he suffered a heart attack during a 1975 show.
Whitney Houston died alone in her bathtub at just 48.
Prince was in the midst of his acclaimed “A Piano and a Microphone” acoustic tour when he died at 57 in 2016. While he was never the kind of artist who liked to look backward, Prince deserved to choose the moment of his retirement, complete with the kind of outpouring sports heroes get.
When a popular professional athlete announces that they will retire at the end of the season, they’re treated to a farewell tour. They get their flowers when they can still enjoy them. From Julius Erving to Dwyane Wade, athletes are tributed in video, with celebratory plaques from the opposing teams and standing ovations from tens of thousands of fans.
Bows and Blessings
With so many of our artists either dying before they reach the age of 60, or being forced to perform well into their 70s to maintain themselves, it was an all too rare gift to see Beverly able to walk away at the time and in the place of his own choosing; to get his flowers while he could still smell them. He died knowing how much we all loved him. It’s a blessing all who share their light as brightly and broadly as we possibly can should be given when the time to say goodbye arrives, as it will, for every single one of us.
When it was time for Frankie Beverly to leave, his ability to do so on his own terms was a blessing. But not nearly the blessing all of us who experienced his greatness were given — and will continue to hold for many, many years to come. He spread a message of love and unity and made millions dance over multiple generations. He made us smile and cry and rejoice and all there is left to say is thank you.
Thank you, Frankie Beverly. You gave us a world better than the one given to you.
SEE MORE:
The Retirement We Weren’t Ready For: Frankie Beverly And Maze Take Their Final, Well-Earned Bow
Here Is The Story Of The Night Aaliyah Died