R.I.P. Aretha Franklin

When you talk about Aretha Franklin, you really must – there is no other choice – use words like “transcendent,” “genius,” etc. It was palpable in everything she did, in her recordings, in her live performances. What you see in her live performances is someone who digs down into the deep well inside of her, her own history, the history of others, the down-dirty history of America, the history of her own time, and pours it back up and out of her mouth. That’s why she’s so powerful. There are very few artists who can do that … and the ones who DO are the ones we treasure most. In them, we hear ourselves, but we also LEARN about ourselves. She’s showing us, she’s leading the way. A pioneer. RADICAL. A game-changer. What would the 20th century – and the 21st – be without her? Our world is incomprehensible without her. There’s that great quote about how heroes are those who “displace” things, the way a gigantic ship displaces water. Aretha Franklin was a great “displacer.’ Before, she wasn’t there. And then … she was there. And she never went away.

It’s not enough, though, to say she had “talent,” or even that she was “gifted,” although those things are, of course, true. Many people have talent, many people have gifts. It’s how you use the gifts given to you that matters, makes an impact. But even beyond that … without her extraordinary voice, its multi-octave expanse, its clarity and then roughness, its rage and its tenderness … and her willingness to show us who she was through her voice … now we’re getting into the realm of genius. Genius is not a gift bestowed from above. You must commit to nurturing your genius, you must commit to sharing it. In every gesture, in every performance, in every note … USE it. To do this over 60+ years of a career is maybe what is most astonishing. She never burned out. She covered songs by younger artists. Adele. Celine Dion. Mariah. Whitney. She had more to give than other people did. It’s just a fact.

There are two obits I want to point you to:

First up, my friend Odie Henderson wrote a gorgeous (passionate and knowledgeable) tribute for Rogerebert.com: Aretha Franklin 1942 – 2018. You need to read the whole thing but this is one of my favorite parts:

In 1967, Re covered Otis Redding’s “Respect,” a paean to what he wanted from the woman he was seeing and supporting. Such a song was not uncommon, especially with the societal roles for men and women back then. In fact, Redding’s song was rather ordinary and familiar when sung by a man. A completely different story could be heard when it came from Aretha Franklin. She didn’t bother to change Redding’s lyrics, which put her—and women in general—in a position of power that was bold and enlightening. Plus she added that famous spelling bee of a retort that wrestled the song from Redding’s authorial hands forever: “R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me … ” It was highway robbery of the finest feminist order, and Redding later joked about the theft. He learned what many others would also learn: When Aretha Franklin stole a song from you, you let her keep it.

Speaking of “Respect,” here’s a pure and ferocious live version. She was so exhilarating live.

Odie’s obit led to a great discussion on Facebook about artistic “theft” and it made me think of one of my favorite stories involving Aretha. It was referenced in the New Yorker article about Aretha, but I’ve known it for years and I can’t remember where I first heard it. The great Etta James describes what happened. She was listening to Aretha Franklin’s version of “Skylark”. This was early on, before Aretha really “hit” although she was starting to make waves already. In the second verse, Aretha jumps up the octave. Etta James says:

“I had to scratch my head and ask myself, How the fuck did that bitch do that? I remember running into Sarah Vaughan, who always intimidated me. Sarah said, ‘Have you heard of this Aretha Franklin girl?’ I said, ‘You heard her do ‘Skylark,’ didn’t you?’ Sarah said, ‘Yes, I did, and I’m never singing that song again.’”

I love stories like this, about pure appreciation between artists. It’s another level. Talent is an aristocracy. All of these people have egos. They wouldn’t be who they are without gigantic egos. But at a certain point, you have to bow down to someone else who has the goods and say “Well played.” The greats don’t hesitate to do this. (Consider Barbra Streisand’s best-kept-secret tradition of reaching out to every new “diva” who arrives on the scene, inviting them over, chatting, sending them encouragement, showing up at their concerts. Beyonce. Mariah. Tiffany Haddish. Babs is ON IT. She is not threatened by up-and-comers. Only the mediocre are threatened by new people moving into territory they carved out.)

Here’s Aretha’s “Skylark.” She’s so young. Listen to where her talent is already at. She didn’t need “developing.” She needed a BREAK so she could share what was already there.

The second obit is from the great Stephanie Zacharek (my fellow NYFCC member). Aretha Franklin Sang Her Way Through America’s History. Her Passing Is the End of an Era. Stephanie writes:

Franklin emerged from the multiple paths that had already been forged by Holiday, Nina Simone, and Mahalia Jackson: Like Sam Cooke (who was a family friend), she melded Gospel with pop music so seamlessly that now it’s hard to think there was ever a time when the two ran on parallel, if often criss-crossing, paths. Without her there could have been no Donna Summer, Chaka Khan or Whitney Houston (whose mother, Cissy, was one of the Sweet Inspirations, who often sang backup for Franklin); nor would there be a Janelle Monae, a Rihanna or a Beyoncé. She was both a pioneer and a connecting link to traditional American music, looking ahead every minute even as she never lost sight of where she came from.

On Twitter, Elton John paid tribute to her “underrated” piano playing. “She was one of my favorite pianists.” (Again, I sob with the artistic appreciation, one piano player to another.)

In 1971, Aretha Franklin gave a now-famous concert at Fillmore West. The whole thing is on Youtube. Here is an 8-minute-long version of her great bluesy “Dr. Feelgood.” She plays the piano throughout. Her performance here is one of those things where you just have to submit to it. Aretha demands you submit. You have no choice. Ride the wave with her. Go with her. And watch where she starts and then where she ends up. The performance is 8 minutes but her journey goes to the Milky Way.

Mentioned by Odie in his obit, here is the famous moment when she replaced Pavorotti at the 1998 Grammys – last minute, last minute, people!!! – with no rehearsal – and sang “Nessun Dorma”, his signature aria.

Her music was in the air, in our world, in the culture at large. I absorbed her by osmosis at a very young age. When she showed up in The Blues Brothers (who doesn’t remember that scene?), I knew who she was instantly even though I was in grade school.

This is a huge loss and when I heard the news my first thought was, “What are we supposed to do now?”

I don’t have an answer.

R.I.P. to the Queen of Soul.