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En Vogue cracked the Top 10 with a cover and the song re-appeared in the Sparkle remake. Fortunately, Franklin sought a second opinion. Eager to keep her happy, Atlantic Records renegotiated a bigger contract just over a year after she signed with the label in The track itself is peppery, full of piping horns and hot rhythm, and gathers much of its power from a Muscle Shoals-centered unit that included Bobby Womack on guitar. Franklin cries out the words until they feel like a blur while the Sweet Inspirations shout and support in the background.

Who could refuse? But the second track on her Atlantic debut LP finds Aretha as wretchedly miserable as its predecessor is powerful and uplifting. Franklin is subtly masterful, injecting alarm into her voice when she sings about finding Carmen with the devil and inserting melismatic runs into the second chorus. It was also the last track to be recorded at FAME Studios: a racially charged argument cut those sessions short.

A few weeks after, Franklin, with the help of her sisters Carolyn and Emma as well as Cissy Houston, laid down her vocal and piano. She and Erma and Carolyn laid down the vocal harmonies, an arrangement from heaven. She ran it down once.

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Thank God I had pressed that record button, because the rundown was unworldly. Otherwise, [listeners] might not let me get to the first verse. Despite the sometimes-sexist ways in which the phrase has been used, Franklin has embraced it. I think that women have to be strong. The song, which was released as the lead single to her album Lady Soul , depicts a woman in thrall to a man.

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But Franklin hardly sounds submissive, instead sounding vibrant and strong. Six days later, she sat at the piano at the New York studios of Atlantic Records, pounding the piano and singing about freedom. Black America was telling white America to think [about] what they were doing. The song spoke to everyone. Where do we go now? And I just happened to be the one to formulate this little pattern. Many of the songs she would bring in — basically the cake was in the oven; all you had to do was bake it.

That is, except a bridge. It feels like a key change. I had just graduated from college. The Civil Rights Movement was burning. And I was aware that this was going to be it. And it actually is. I think the music has shown that Aretha capped an era. Aretha Franklin in Share on Facebook Share on Twitter. Newswire Powered by.


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The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel,. The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and looks at the oats and rye,. He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's bed-room;.

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He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manu- script;. The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard nods by the bar-room stove,. The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass,. The young fellow drives the express-wagon, I love him, though I do not know him;. The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some lean on their rifles, some sit on logs,.

Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;. As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them from his saddle,. The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their part- ners, the dancers bow to each other,. The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the musical rain,. The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering moccasins and bead-bags for sale,. The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut eyes bent sideways,. As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is thrown for the shore-going passengers,.

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The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots,. The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week ago borne her first child,. The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the factory or mill,. The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold,. The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread,.

The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him,. The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions,. The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, how the white sails sparkle! The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray,. The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, the purchaser hig- gling about the odd cent;. The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly,.

The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her tipsy and pimpled neck,. The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other,. The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries,. On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms,. The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,. The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle,. As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the jingling of loose change,. The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are calling for mortar,.

Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, what salutes of cannon and small arms! Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the ground;. Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface,.

The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe,.

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Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees,. Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or through those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,.

Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or Altamahaw,. Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grand- sons around them,. In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day's sport,. The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife;. Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with the stuff that is fine,. One of the Nation of many nations, the smallest the same and the largest the same,. A Southerner soon as a Northerner, a planter nonchalant and hospitable down by the Oconee I live,.

A Yankee bound my own way ready for trade, my joints the limberest joints on earth and the sternest joints on earth,. A Kentuckian walking the vale of the Elkhorn in my deer-skin leggings, a Louisianian or Georgian,. A boatman over lakes or bays or along coasts, a Hoosier, Badger, Buckeye;. At home on Kanadian snow-shoes or up in the bush, or with fishermen off Newfoundland,. At home in the fleet of ice-boats, sailing with the rest and tack- ing,.

At home on the hills of Vermont or in the woods of Maine, or the Texan ranch,. Comrade of Californians, comrade of free North-Westerners, lov- ing their big proportions,.


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