Long before the era of auto-tune and mass-produced pop hits took over the musical landscape, 1980 gave us a jewel that shined brightly: Aretha Franklin's self-titled album, "Aretha." Some might argue, "Aretha" wasn't Franklin's best work, standing tall against a discography that rolls out like a cavalcade of soul's greatest hits. But let's not forget: even on what some might consider her lesser ventures, Aretha does things that would make today's stars falter.
Aretha Franklin dropped this album in June 1980, under the Arista Records banner. Recorded in undisclosed studios that are just too mundane to be named, this album not only encapsulated Aretha's raw talent but also mirrored the political and social dynamics of its time. Funny enough though, while politicians yacked about big government, Aretha was proving you can do big things without it.
"Aretha" walked onto the scene at a peculiar time—when the entire globe seemed enamored with disco beats and questionable fashion choices. The album reeked of character and uniqueness, an attribute that seems nearly extinct in today's musical offerings. But what makes "Aretha" stand out?
First, the track "United Together," struck right at the core of a nation struggling to find its rhythm amidst political chaos. Aretha's powerful voice bleeding through the guitars proved, yet again, music's power in altering perspectives, without signing up for any political party.
Then, there was "Come to Me," which kept it intimate and grounded, championing love and relationships with all the intricacies they bring along. It was simple yet like a warm handshake with sincerity. It was gospel truth laced with emotional understanding.
Of course, no Aretha album was complete without her exploring jazz roots. "What a Fool Believes," "Together Again," and "School Days," took a brave leap into jazz-inflected territories, proving that Franklin could dominate any genre she dared tread upon. Her ability to flit between different musical styles with ease only strengthens her legacy.
The album saw the light of day under the production prowess of Arif Mardin and Chuck Jackson. Ironically, even as the corporate machine of Arista wanted to mold Aretha into a particular brand, she still exuded she had her own agenda: make herself heard.
Aretha Franklin and the '80s were a match rife with potential yet complicated by the societal fabric of the time. With "Aretha," she wasn't just an artist hoping to sell records. She was a storyteller, an emotional conduit for a society fraught with complexities.
Despite a mixed reception by the usual critics—who knew exactly nothing about what real people actually wanted—the album still managed to birth two singles, "United Together" and "Can't Turn You Loose," which performed well within recognized charts. It didn't need the approval of snobby critics whose primary goal was to wag a finger from an ivory tower, after all.
What have we got today in music, though? Political correctness, wrapped in catchy tunes with little more substance than a fortune cookie. By digging up "Aretha," you're engaging with sounds that defy borders and political affiliations. It revels in having hard truths crooned into your auditory canal without fearing the consequence.
And here's what makes that special: in a world loud with the implications of partisanship, Aretha's canvas painted unity and individuality all at once. That raw edge, that boundary-defying soulfulness—unsoiled by political babble—stands as a testament to her artistry. She had no secret agenda, no desire to placate the faint-hearted. She harnessed the rebel whisper every true artist must heed.
We live in an age desperate for icons who dare to eradicate mediocrity, who replace edited narratives with gutsy declarations of self-identity. Aretha (1980) generously serves that with every drumbeat and resonating chord, a crucial reminder that in music, as in life, there's space for everyone—except maybe for copycat liberals aiming to water down everything that was spectacular about the past.
So let "Aretha" be the antidote to modern auditory monotony, the album that takes you back to a time when music didn't bend the knee. Armed with song and the spirit of fearless confrontation, it becomes your very own sonic journey through essential history, when legends didn’t just sing and play; they shouted the truth.