When I think of Tulsa’s Branjae, I think of discipline, performance, energy. “Who’s a manifester?” she asked us, the sometimes awkward but incredibly enthusiastic crowd at Thelma’s Peach last Friday night. “We’re all manifesters,” she reassured us. Or maybe challenged us. Though I doubt my ability to manifest new realities, it feels impossible to doubt Branjae. “This is a party,” she told us early on. And so it was.
Maybe we weren’t all that awkward — it’s just that she’s such a force of charisma and poise. Every outstretched arm, every twirl, every shuffle across the stage looked balletic, sharp but fluid. And, however uncoordinated we were, many of us were inspired to follow her lead, with a little help from the peach whiskey, domestic beers, and sexy rhythms.
In her new album’s look book, a throwback to the CD booklet, Branjae defines “intravibronic” as a quality of one who has “intentional control of personal vibration.” In “High Vibes,” she sings as much: “You keep your own vibe high, and I’ma keep my vibe up high.”
Branjae’s manifestation/vibe-control toolkit, according to Intravibronic, the new release she sang from that night, includes principles like “facing myself,” “working on me,” “I’ll take the real, pass on the trendy,” “I can be who I wanna be,” “real, real clear on these boundaries,” “declining negativity; choosing longevity, freedom to be free.” It might also include a varied wardrobe; throughout the night, Branjae changed to fit, or maybe to create, the mood. (Definitely a technique that those of us working on our manifestation skills can try out right away.) First we saw a sparkly silver dress, then a jacket featuring a red-eyed face — the eyes actually light up on the back — then two different semi-formal pink dresses.
At Thelma’s Peach that night, the crowd might have surprised you. Not just because I brought my aunt from Pennsylvania (70) and my stepmom (69), but because they didn’t particularly stand out for their age. No one did, really. “I love this diverse crowd. I love your energy,” Branjae said between songs. (That first silver sparkly dress Branjae wore, my aunt said, was just like the one she’d worn to her sophomore dance.)
It’s true: all around were people in their early 20s — the most energetic, in terms of dancing — but so were 30‑, 40- 50‑, and 60-somethings. The crowd was just as diverse in terms of race and style. I mentioned awkwardness earlier, but there were plenty of beautiful, well-coiffed (and purposely not so well-coiffed) cool kids in the audience, too.
Speaking of beautiful, cool, well-coiffed: let’s not forget the band, which was made of masters like Bobby Moffett, Jr., on keys, Stanley Fary on drums, Matt Magerkurth on bass, and Nathan Wright on guitar. Branjae dominates the stage by nature, but she was careful to remind us how crucial her talented band was. In addition to songs from the new album, the show included plenty of material from her extensive catalog, and she and the band were fluid in terms of genre. We heard rap, soul, disco, funk, R&B — all of it danceable.
A note about Branjae’s high-tech merch platforms: though there’s an ease to scanning a barcode and purchasing online, you might be hit with shipping costs. It might make more sense to talk to the merch folks first to see if what you want is on hand. They can sell it in person, if so, minus those shipping costs.
My only other note is that Thelma’s could use more room for dancing. But that’s a great problem to have: it means the music’s so good that you need more room for dancing.
Next for Branjae: Opening for Tank and the Bangas, Guthrie Green, Oct. 14.
Next at Thelma’s Peach: Hi-Fi Hillbillies Happy Hour, Friday, Sept. 1.
