The official reports are a bit of a downer, aren't they? All very medical and dreary. Pancreatic Cancer did for me but to tell you the truth, I was just knackered. Absolutely, utterly, can’t-be-arsed-to-find-my-slippers knackered.
Think about it. I’d been belting out notes since I was old enough to reach the pulpit. I’d out-sung blues legends, commanded the stage at Woodstock (a bit muddy, that one, glad I wore the sensible boots), and made Presidents weep.
I’d dealt with record producers who thought a woman’s place was in the background, harmonising sweetly. Bless their little cotton socks. My body had been a vessel, a workhorse, a temple of glorious, soulful noise, and frankly, the warranty had run out. It was less a dramatic, tragic end and more a case of, “Right then, that’s my lot. I’m off for a permanent sit-down.” Like a favourite handbag you decide to retire before the seams start to burst.
And what a life it was, eh? Blimey.
It all started in that church. My dad, the Reverend C.L. Franklin, had a voice that could part the Red Sea and a congregation that hung on his every word and included such people as Clara Ward, James Cleveland, Martin Luther King Jr., Jackie Wilson, Ray Charles and Sam Cooke so when the Revs daughter, a bossy little so-and-so began belting out tunes it was noticed.
Sam Cooke really pushed for me to sign a record contract when i turned 18 and then came the pop charts. Oh, crikey. A different kettle of fish entirely. Suddenly, I was meant to be all sweetness and light. Let me tell you a secret about 'Respect'. It wasn’t a political statement. Not at first. It was a memo. A rather loud, gospel-fuelled memo aimed at the various daft men in my life at the time. “R-E-S-P-E-C-T,” I’d spell it out, hoping they’d get the message. Find out what it means to me! It’s not rocket science, is it? It means don’t leave your socks on the floor, and for heaven’s sake, put the loo seat down.
I was regarded as the Queen of Soul and was twice named by Rolling Stone magazine as the greatest singer of all time but people tend to remember the big moments and the biggest must be the inauguration for that lovely young man, Barack Obama.
Bigger than the 112 singles on the US Billboard Charts, the 18 Grammy Awards and becoming the first female artist to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, it was those 3 minutes when a Black man was being sworn in as President of the United States which would mean an end to racism in America, by voting for Obama, they sorted all of that out and now it meant that America had changed and black people can be whatever they want to be. As long as it's either president or shot by the Police.
The other big sensation was that hat. The internet had a complete fit but to be honest, I just saw it in a shop and thought, 'Ooh, that’s a bit of millinery madness. It’ll do a treat.' It’s funny what sticks. You can belt your heart out for sixty years, change the course of music, and be a beacon of empowerment, but what really gets people going is a giant grey bow with a Swarovski crystal in the middle. You’ve got to laugh, haven’t you?
It was a riot, my life. A proper, brilliant, chaotic, soulful riot. I loved every minute, even the bits that felt like utter garbage at the time. It all makes for a good song in the end so be good to each other. And for goodness sake, spell it out if you have to.
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