… Because A Rose Is Still A Rose.

When it comes to expressing yourself through song, there is no one who can touch her. Aretha Franklin is the reason why women want to sing. She was the living definition of soul, once she set aside her youthful modesty. On black feminist anthems, such as Respect, Think and Young, Gifted and Black, she sounded indomitable, drawing strength from the social movements of the time and repaying it twice over.

Everything popular music needs to be is there in Aretha's songs, whether she wrote them or claimed them through phrasing and diction that no other singer could fully imitate. Her art defined the political moment that soul music served, but she herself cannot be understood through one narrative.

All of Aretha’s music, even her operatic performance, feels deeply infused with her gospel roots. Take the 1998 Grammy Awards, when Aretha stepped in to cover for a sickly Luciano Pavarotti, and performed the Turandot aria Nessun Dorma; she sang in Pavarotti’s own tenor range, but gave it her inimitable soulful flair. Apparently, she took 20 minutes’ notice to perform this show-stopper, and it remains a wondrous rendition to hear and watch: her earthy then soaring tone, her poise and flashing eyes.

The Queen of Soul could write a fantastic tune, but when she sang someone else’s words, they belonged to her completely.

The Queen Of Soul, an album by Aretha Franklin on Spotify