The New Yorker:

Franklin has won eighteen Grammy awards, sold tens of millions of records, and is generally acknowledged to be the greatest singer in the history of postwar popular music. James Brown, Sam Cooke, Etta James, Otis Redding, Ray Charles: even they cannot match her power, her range from gospel to jazz, R. & B., and pop.

At the 1998 Grammys, Luciano Pavarotti called in sick with a sore throat and Aretha, with twenty minutes’ notice, sang “Nessun dorma” for him. What distinguishes her is not merely the breadth of her catalogue or the cataract force of her vocal instrument; it’s her musical intelligence, her way of singing behind the beat, of spraying a wash of notes over a single word or syllable, of constructing, moment by moment, the emotional power of a three-minute song. “Respect” is as precise an artifact as a Ming vase.

There is no one on the planet who sang like Aretha did in her prime. My mom was a huge fan (sadly, mom would ruin a lot of my listening by singly along, badly) and we listened to everything she recorded when I was a kid. Even now, at the age of 74, she is a better singer than 99.99% of people on tour today and can still occasionally reach the vocal power of her 70’s fame.

The author has also written “The History of Aretha, in Ten Videos” for those of you unfamiliar with her early performances and even some of her later ones. In particular, her performance of “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman” at last December’s Kennedy Center Honors will send shivers down your spine.