On April 29, the Palace Theatre in Albany played host to a night of soul and fire as Joss Stone and Melissa Etheridge brought their co-headlining spring tour to town.

The audience was an inter-generational blend of devoted fans and curious newcomers. They came for the music but left with something far more profound. It was a communion of emotion, storytelling and unapologetic womanhood.

Joss Stone opened the evening in a scene that felt more like a dream than a performance. Radiant and visibly pregnant, she settled into a blush-colored armchair alongside her seated band, establishing a tone that was warm, grounded and unexpectedly intimate. For the first half of her set, Stone sang with the gentle force of someone inviting you in rather than performing for you. Her voice was honeyed and effortless, yet piercing and was gliding through the theater like smoke.

It felt less like attending a show and more like being welcomed into her living room and her life.

Midway through, the lights shifted and so did the energy. The tempo picked up and Stone rose to her feet. The transformation was instant and electrifying. It was as though she had not only stood up but stepped fully into her power.

Her vocals soared bold, full-bodied and fearless as the band swelled behind her. The performance evolved into a celebration of life in all its forms. All delivered by an artist who has mastered how to flow between them.

When Melissa Etheridge took the stage the temperature in the room jumped ten degrees. She was met with a roar that rattled the walls.

The moment she stepped into the spotlight, it was clear this was her house. Etheridge radiates authority, but not the distant kind. Hers is electric and magnetic, earned through decades of giving everything to her audience. In Albany, she gave it all once more.

Her set was a roller coaster of vulnerability and strength, laced with humor and deeply relatable stories. She joked about heartbreak, aging, parenting and life’s chaotic twists, but always returned to the heart of it all: being human.

Each tale was punctuated by a song that cut straight through the noise.

“I Want to Come Over” was one of the first to bring the crowd to its feet. She introduced it with a sly smile and a story about knowing what you want and going after it. When she hit the chorus, it wasn’t just her voice that rang out, it was everyone’s.

“Come to My Window” arrived like a prayer and a reckoning. Etheridge’s delivery made the decades-old song feel startlingly fresh. The audience swayed and sang, many with tears in their eyes and mascara running down their face.

In that moment, the song became a bridge between past and present, between artist and every soul who’s ever waited, loved, or longed.

Then came “I’m the Only One”, a true showstopper. Etheridge didn’t just sing it; she attacked it. Her voice roared over the guitar like a battle cry, transforming the room into a pulsing mass of catharsis. No one was just singing along, they were feeling along.

Throughout her set, the theme of empowerment beat beneath every chord. Women in the crowd stood taller. Couples held hands. Friends threw arms over shoulders and screamed lyrics into the air like it might save them and maybe, in some small way, it did.

Etheridge doesn’t just perform songs. She gives language to feelings her audience didn’t even know they needed to express.

Together, Melissa Etheridge and Joss Stone proved that soul and strength are not mutually exclusive. They showed that vulnerability is not weakness and that music still holds the power to move us deeply, truly. The show in Albany was never just entertainment. It was a mirror, a release, a reclamation.