—
Buy it on Amazon.
From Baby Boomers to Millennials, no one with a radio and a passing interest in music escaped the beauty and uplifting nature of Aretha’s vocal styling. Her gospel-inspired transcendence and her natural unbridled exuberance expressed identifiable emotions that every generation of music lover can relate to, rock genres be damned. From aggressive rock standards (“Freeway of Love”) to daring covers (“Eleanor Rigby”) to love songs (“I’m in Love”) to R&B classics (“Spanish Harlem”) to collaborations with other musical icons (Elton John), she never, ever, rang a false note. Her gospel training infused every production while her Baptist-church- choir inflections and spiritual riffing made her an unparalleled singer. She was one of the few singers whose live performances often surpassed her recordings, her charismatic stage presence making the singer become one with the song. Aretha was miraculous and awe-inspiring.
Witness her now legendary live performance of Paul Simon’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” at the Fillmore West in 1971. In a sense, this was her own bridge to unchartered waters as she created her own brand of masterpiece, bringing the depth of gospel and the ethereal energy of soul to exalted folk, pop, and country-rock classics-in-the-making.
Her re-arrangement, from the lyrical flourishes to the bluesy-gospel musical lilt of the Simon time-honored jewel, shifted the paradigm of what a singer can do to a song. She gave us original interpretations and displays of what was vocally possible without calling attention to show-offish aural acrobatics. That was part of the glory of Aretha Franklin’s gift, natural, blessed, and spiritual.
Her life was devoted to accomplishment versus fame, though international fame naturally came with that accomplishment. Her altruism and beneficence were unknown to most. She preferred to help humanity without social media exhibitionism, self-aggrandizement, or faux humble posturing. She was always about the music, which will be her evergreen gift to humanity. Her philosophy was “esteem comes through estimable acts” — She was a diva who created no diva-like drama. She collaborated and was mentored by the most tasteful and erudite executives and producers in the business, most importantly Jerry Wexler, Ahmet Ertugun, and Clive Davis — all long-term relationships rare in modern music.
In Rolling Stone Magazine’s 100 Greatest Singers, published in 2010, Aretha Franklin was number 1. This was the only time, among these types of critical lists, when there was no argument, no debate. The 100 best bands, or 100 best guitarists, always have an arguable element. Not here, not now, not ever. Aretha was it, and will always be it.
I’m not a fan of “greatest hits” albums per se because they usually stick to the songs with the most commercial exposure, no deep cuts. Not so here. Sure, “Aretha Franklin: 30 Greatest Hits” includes the commercial hits. But this is Aretha Franklin, and we also get the critical hits beyond the anthems, the cover versions she made entirely her own, and more brilliant songs, some well known, some more obscure, but all magnificent and uniquely Aretha Franklin. For example: “The Weight,” by The Band, has been covered by a number of worthy artists from Joe Cocker to The Staples Singers to Joan Osborne. It’s always risky when any artist covers an iconic song firmly associated with the original. Imagine anyone covering Springsteen’s “Born to Run?” Yet, here she is with Duane Allman on slide guitar, creating a classic out of a classic.
[The CD of “Aretha Franklin: 30 Greatest Hits” is old, and, stupidly, has not been re-issued. To buy it from Amazon at an exorbitant price, click here. The MP3 download is a more sensible purchase. To buy it from Amazon, click here.]
In the ‘80s, when many talented artists who’d made their mark in the ‘60s and ‘70s faded or became obsolete, she stayed relevant while being true to herself. Songs like “Who’s Zooming Who” (with George Michael) became part of the zeitgeist without sacrificing what we loved about her in the first place – compelling vocal, outrageous chord changes, and musical nuances owned solely by the Queen of Soul. She never pandered, she never adapted, and she simply and confidently did what she did better than anyone.
In this most media-centric time, when artistic geniuses leave us, we’re exposed to heartfelt laments, poignant stories, and a week’s worth of 24/7 airplay of their songs and milestones. One of my favorites involves Mark Goodman, one of the 4 original MTV VJs. He tells a great story about meeting Miss Franklin backstage in Detroit at a charity event in the 1980s. After an introductory conversation, she thanked him for exposing more artists and music to the world, and then invited him and his colleagues to her house for dinner. When they arrived, they found her making the dinner — no minions, no entourage, just Miss Franklin making an elaborate meal. After the long dinner and conversation, she refused her guests’ help and said, “I have this, thanks for your company.” Her talent, grace, humility, and quiet dignity were evident onstage, on vinyl, in life.
In this time of turbulence, polarization, and challenges most of us thought unspeakable, I can think of no better antidote than the imposing, glorious, and healing voice of Lady Soul. Her live performance of A Natural Woman made President Obama shed a tear or two. I’ll be playing Aretha Franklin’s 30 Greatest Hits as I drive, and I’ll be wallowing in her glory, tears be damned.
BONUS VIDEO
with Annie Lennox
J. Horton: a “curated” store that really is curated
Every little store lures you in with code words: “authentic” and “curated.” And then you see pretty much the same stuff you saw in the last little store. J. Horton is the exception. Credit Joan Horton, who moved to Madison, Connecticut after a long career at Revlon and L’Oreal and years in Paris. Online, several items jumped out at me. Like: Erode soap. Each organic soap is poured and cast by hand, so that the scents and botanic ingredients — antioxidants, mineral rich clays, and skin-nurturing essential oils — are revealed in layers, carefully chosen to blend together. The design’s unique shapes are meant to be rubbed, the ridges meant to be worn off. With a Bouton plate to serve as the soap’s designated dish. $30. Like: water and stain resistant UASHMAMA placemats. $14. And, for $500, the Cuatro Tetas basket. Joan explains: “’Cuatro Tetas,’ literally meaning ‘four breasts,’ is hand woven by the indigenous Canaan in the pacific rainforest of Columbia, a remote region that can only be accessed by riverboats or small propeller planes. The Canaan were displaced by drug-related violence ten years ago and use their craft of basket weaving to support their community. The Cuatro Tetas basket is made by women artisans who use ancient weaving techniques.” See what I mean? Online, or in the store in a charming waterfront village.
A business book that’s not just for business people: “What Happens Now? Reinvent Yourself as a Leader Before Your Business Outruns You”
How does success morph into failure? “What Happens Now?: Reinvent Yourself as a Leader Before Your Business Outruns You,” by the seriously credentialed Mark Nevins and John Hillen, starts as a kind of horror story. A business leader hits a wall: he/she has succeeded, faces unanticipated challenges and doesn’t know how to get beyond them. What’s needed? Well, it’s not about honing the skills that got you there. It’s about identifying your “stall.” There are 7 varieties, all recognizable to you even if you’re not an executive. And the most telling solution, battle-tested with their clients, is to grow both as a leader and as a human. That’s what makes this book really interesting: the idea that leadership isn’t a test of technique but of character. And there are amusing, memorable stories. Sample: “There’s an old joke told at the Air Force Academy, where units are called squadrons and groups of squadrons are called wings. When people ask of certain officers, ‘What kind of wing commander is he?’ the answer is, ‘He’s the best squadron commander I’ve ever met.’” [To buy the book from Amazon, click here. For the Kindle edition, click here.]
Cassava House: an oasis in East Harlem
My daughter and her friends have “streaks” on Snapchat –– that is, they make it a point to post something every day, and when one of them goes on vacation, they assign a friend to keep up their streaks. I’m maintaining a streak at Cassava House; if you’re in East Harlem around 8 AM, I’m the guy at the counter, buying just one blueberry muffin and kibitzing with the owner. The muffin is excellent, but the atmosphere is the lure. Antoine is the first person I talk with each day, and he’s up to the job: French, blazingly well-informed, appropriately ironic, not shy about teasing a smart response from his customers, who increasingly seem to know one another and, like me, welcome having a “local” for breakfast or lunch. Antoine’s menu is a unicorn in East Harlem: not just smoothies and significantly good drip coffee, but sandwiches on 9-grain bread, salads with homemade balsamic vinegar, and an all-day breakfast of two eggs, salad and toast for a ridiculous $3. Free wifi. A garden with a wall-sized mural. Cassava House is at 2270 First Avenue, between 116-117th Streets. 7 AM to 7 PM. See you there at 8 AM?
Jesse’s new enterprise: the college essay
Decades ago, my stepdaughter’s college counselor suggested that Rollins was a good choice for her. It was surely a good choice for someone, but she was more ambitious for herself. I worked with her on her essay, and despite her average grades, she got into Hamilton — early decision. I didn’t think about my contribution to that outcome until last fall, when a friend’s son asked me to work with him on his college essay. Good thing he did; although his grades were good and he had high test scores, his essay was superficial. Buried in that essay, however, was a deep metaphor. If he could unearth it, I thought, he could write a killer essay. I didn’t give him the answer. I just asked questions and read drafts. And he was accepted at Dartmouth — again, early decision. That was a light bulb moment for me: I realized I should offer to help other kids, as a business that actually serves everyone: I get to edit, which I love, and the kids get an editor, which they need. If this is relevant for your kid or a kid you know, write me at [email protected].
—
This article originally appeared on The Head Butler