A Love Letter for the Queen of Soul

Most people can remember very specific things about their childhood homes when growing up. Maybe it’s the smell of pancakes on Sunday mornings, or gathering around the tree on Christmas day. It could be that old tree in the yard that you played around for hours, or that bump in the sidewalk that you road your bike over countless times. But for me, without a doubt, my entire existence here on earth while living in the long green house with the flat roof has been music.  

Both of my parents are singers, like actual good singers. They would sing at weddings, sang in a touring gospel group and sang around the house. For as long as I can remember music has filled our home. When I was younger it was records. My dad had an epic collection of vinyl’s (which he still has to this day by the way). Later days, as we transitioned to tapes and eventually CD’s, no matter what the format, the love of music remained a major part of our home. You probably think, well lots of people like music, but that’s the thing Jane, in our house, we LOVE music. PBS specials, music reviews, music videos, live concerts that my dad has seen a thousand times, we do it all. My dad knows literally everything about music, and here and now, nothing much has changed. I can still hear music blasting each Sunday morning as the millennial in me tries to sleep in (just dramatic).

Jazz. R&B. Soul Music. Popular Music. Classical. Oldies. Goodies. And everything in between.

Growing up in church I had a huge grasp on gospel music. But growing up in a black Baptist church meant, I not only knew about Mary Mary and Kirk Franklin, I also knew about Queens like Aretha Franklin. There are few voices that cut you like a knife. Who’s voice not only sounds amazing, but most importantly makes you feel something. Aretha Franklin has always been a staple in the black community. She made gospel music, covered Beatles songs, had soul songs that reached the top of the pop charts, and still had a vibe about her that screamed wig snatching diva.

Growing up, I learned to respect her voice. I never was told to love her. I was never told that she was the queen of soul. I just listened, and I just and knew. Her voice was raspy. Her voice had range. Her voice was unique. Her voice transformed songs. Some people, have voices that make you feel, make you remember, make you happy, guide you through hard times. Those people, need no introduction. Before there was Whitney, Prince, or Michael, there was Aretha. Her voice reminded me of Sunday mornings. Biscuits and grits. Cornbread and black-eyed peas.

I loved her because my parents loved her.

I loved her because she meant so much to people who looked like me.

I loved her even more because she meant so much to people who didn’t look like me.

I loved her because she took songs and made them better. So much better.

I loved her because she was robust, real, authentic, and did I mention a Queen.

But more than that I loved her because before I ever saw her face, her music meant something to me. Before I knew what soul music was. Before I knew how gospel music was supposed to make me feel. Before soul music shaped the foundation of the everything I loved about artist and lyrics, I loved her. She was confident, bold, strong, smart, talented, and still capable of snatching a wig right from its base, even with reinforced wig glue. She was a diva, she was a musician, she was a voice, she was a force, but mostly she was a strong badass black woman who was the best to ever do it.

Today is a sad day. Today is a sad day in music. The truth is our icons are dying faster than we can birth new artist who are even comparable. (Oh chile, that’s a whole other post for a whole other day). But how lucky are we? To have known Aretha Franklin existed. To bare witness to her voice. To have watched her sing her heart out LIVE, over and over again. To know that her music touched our lives. To hear her songs for eternity and know exactly how it made you feel.

Music has always filled the spaces that I was unable to touch, to feel, to express. Music has been the hug I often needed but didn’t get. Music has always been my diary. Music has always been my friend. Music has caught the tears that sometimes don’t even know why they are falling. Music is my most favorite thing. Music has loved me, cared about me, and been there for me.  Music has always been there. Music will always be there.

 Aretha Franklin was here and it was beautiful.

But how lucky are we, to have that voice from now until forever…

Rest peacefully Queen of Soul.

Go listen to her music today for me. Go listen to her music today for you. Go find a YouTube of her slaying with your favorite artist. Pay your respects to the Queen, if only for today. And prepare to be forever changed.

My Top 10 Aretha Franklin Tracks

10. Think

9.  Something He Can Feel

8.  Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing

7. Chain of Fools

6. Rock Steady

5. Ain’t No Way

4. Until You Come Back To Me  

3. Bridge Over Troubled Water

2. Day Dreaming

1. Say A Little Prayer

True story, “Say A Little Prayer” plays a very important role in one of my most favorite movies of all time, and very possible personal biopic “My Best Friend’s Wedding”. (First of all don’t judge. Second of all, if you haven’t seen that, don’t speak to me until you have.). I love this song. And yes, I am aware that Dionne Warwick sang it first, but there something about Aretha’s version. I felt it.  It has always been an anthem of mine for when things with people I care about go, off kilter. I have listened to this song more and more recently, as relationships have lost their steam, lost their direction. The truth is, if I ever loved you, I still do. If I ever cared about you, I still do. Aretha taught me with this very simple song, to keep caring, keep loving, and keep praying for people, even when things go astray. It is a small reminder that has carried me for a very very long time…

Thank you Aretha Franklin.