Obliging 7-year-old me’s incessant nagging, my parents caved and ordered the Rolling Stones Bridges to Babylon concert, live from the St. Louis Trans World Dome, on pay-per-view. The date was December 12, 1997, and while the show would later be released on DVD, my videotape sat in the VCR ready to record. For two hours, this strange little girl from Indiana sang the lyrics to every song, dancing in front of the TV way past her bedtime. Eventually, I’d pass out on the couch before the show was over, but the night would be cemented on my temporal lobe. That concert was also the first time I’d seen backup singer Lisa Fischer in all her glory, standing just feet away from Mick Jagger, donning a long, red, Indian sari and replicating Merry Clayton’s iconic oohs on “Gimme Shelter.” As each note melted into Keith Richard’s reverb-soaked guitar riffs, it was as if I had witnessed someone levitating in thin air, a trick only an honest-to-god magician could make you believe. It was surreal. I was in awe.

Since that show, I’ve seen the Rolling Stones (in person) four times, and I’ve been mesmerized by Fischer’s incredible vocal range during each performance. When I watched the documentary 20 Feet From Stardom last year, Fischer was finally given the attention she deserved, the accolades pouring in from her colleagues and the countless stars she’s supported throughout the years. And we finally got to see who the woman with those killer pipes really is—a spiritual, down-to-earth artist whose passion for music doesn’t just radiate. It sings.

Fischer's show inside the Smith Center’s Cabaret Jazz on Friday employed the same kind of reverence for her craft. Shortly after 7 p.m., she and her three-piece band, Grand Baton, walked out onstage as she thanked the crowd for buying tickets and coming to the first of three (sold-out) shows. The vocal siren began with a reimagined rendition of Amy Grant’s “Breath of Heaven (Mary’s Song),” a five-and-a-half minute soliloquy, stretched to 10 minutes and swelling with otherworldly beats and textures thanks to band leader JC Maillard’s electrifying guitar, Aidan Carroll’s standup bass and Thierry Arpino’s locomotive percussion. Singing into two different mics, one handheld and one on a stand, Fischer created a hypnotic, trance-like vocal loop on top of the ethereal melody. “I’m going to be drinking a lot of water—because it’s the desert,” Fischer whispered at the end of the first song. “How do you all live here, seriously?” She later joked about the dry heat. Dressed in a long grey tie-dye dress and wearing a beautiful silver necklace that sparkled in the light, Fischer floated barefoot across the floor, then came down into the small crowd—a foot from my table—belting a jazzy version of “Fever.”

Fischer’s set was packed with surprises, from the gigantic, pummeling Led Zeppelin track “Rock and Roll,” rife with heavy bass and guitar and a throbbing drumbeat, to the Stones’ very own “Jumping Jack Flash,” the latter re-envisioned with a haunting, Middle-Eastern tone. The singer’s own 1991 Grammy-award winning single, “How Can I Ease the Pain,” saw Fischer at her most vulnerable, singing with an updated arrangement that focused less on synthesized instrumentation and more on reflective, somber guitar melodies and her gradually intensifying vocals.

“I want to thank you all for coming out to support live music. I’m going to do one more song,” Fischer said, before the first notes of Maillard’s guitar came in. “Wo-ah, mercy, mercy me,” she sang, as if launching into “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)” by Marvin Gaye. But quickly, the band changed direction, followed by all-too familiar riff and disguised in a smoky, worldly arrangement. “Oh, the storm is threatnin’ my very life today, if I don’t get some shelter, oh, I’m gonna fade away,” Fischer sang cooly on “Gimme Shelter.” Utilizing both mics again, the singer emphasized each word as if she were turning the song into a battle cry. And when she got to that defining moment, “Rape, murder, it’s just a shot away!” the crowd sat wide-eyed in amazement. It was a striking end to one of the more unique show’s I’ve seen, leaving no question as to why this backup singer would be headlining sold-out shows across the world—only bewilderment as to why she didn’t get there sooner.