When I think of Aretha Franklin, this is the decade that comes to mind:
It’s 1967, I’m 12 years old, and my mom has put the 45 on our tiny mono record player with the tone arm that automatically goes right back to the beginning when the song is over. And the one song plays on and on for hours.
I’ll quote Steely Dan here:
Hey, 19! That’s ‘Retha Franklin.
She don’t remember the Queen of Soul.
Hard times befallen the soul survivors.
She thinks I’m crazy, but I’m just growin’ old.