How Aretha Franklin continued her legacy on her final performance
I always flinch at the phrase, ‘they’ve got an amazing voice’. Maybe it’s because I simply can’t hear the words being said in any other voice than Simon Cowell’s, and so generally speaking, it feels baseless to me. Because, as I explored my growing love for music, I realised that greatness existed beneath the glossy surface of the spotlight-clutching singers Cowell has tried to force upon us.
Defiantly, I told people great music didn’t need a great voice, but was left without a valid answer when someone asked, ‘What about Aretha Franklin?’
Because she was the voice. She was the voice that future generations modelled their ambition on, thinking if they could scratch the surface of her technical ability, then they might crack the industry with the same might. In terms of exposure and commercial success, sure, some of their predecessors did. But no one came close to matching her authenticity, artistry and painstaking portrayal of emotion that ultimately helped forge an entire genre.
She honed her craft in the church pews, singing for her local choir in Detroit, Michigan. But it was soon clear her voice was home to something much more than a perfect range. And so her dad bundled her into his car when she was just 12 years old, and hit the road to play a string of shows called the “gospel caravan”, touring local churches.
It’s the sort of tale we expect to end with a bent and broken popstar, disillusioned by the trappings of music bureaucracy. But something Franklin had in spades, and continued to retain right up until her sad passing in 2018, was an unwavering sense of self and strength. Her megahit ‘Respect’ wasn’t a feigned attempt at virtue signalling in the hope of capturing a zeitgeist, no. It was a frank mirroring of her own principles that bled into relationships, business and artistic creation.
So while her legacy in music is steeped with an unmatched level of talent, it’s ultimately built on the strength of her character, the ideals through which her songs are showcased. And so when it came to the twilight days of her career, when we sat back marvelling at her impact and hoped she would appear semi-regularly to scratch our nostalgic itch, her performances still weren’t underwhelming.
Unlike some legends whose throwback performances wildly miss the mark due to their dwindling capability, Franklin could instead lean into her character. In what became her final ever performance, delivering the two classics, ‘I Say a Little Prayer’ and ‘Freeway’, her vocals were understandably weakened.
But never did it make you wince! The ‘Queen of Soul’ took the opportunity to softly flourish into ad-libs, never trying to match her original performance and instead colouring in the songs’ deeply emotional lyrics with poignancy and heartfelt truth.
Unlike so many legends, Franklin’s public presence was largely muted. She was rarely seen engaging in anything overtly glamorous unless it involved her providing some form of performance, proving the faithfulness she had to her art. While her last ever appearance painted the picture of genius somewhat diminished, the mere sight of her performing her hits in the flesh was always enough to provoke a jittery sensation of excitement, for she was one of the true untouchable icons of music and remains so.
