Every Aretha Franklin Studio Album, Ranked From Worst to Best

A comprehensive celebration of the Queen of Soul.

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It would be easy (and uncontroversial) to anoint Aretha Franklin’s voice as the most jaw-dropping voice in the history of pop music. Her articulations of deep emotion, ranging from heaven-sent euphoria to earth-shattering heartbreak, helped listeners worldwide learned how to process what they were feeling through her songs.

You could point to her 18 Grammy Awards, 73 Hot 100 entries, or the more than 75 million records sold during her illustrious career as supporting evidence in the GOAT conversation. But, like other legendary artists who’ve praised her over the years, it’s only part of what made her great.

“Her piano playing, gospel, soul style is something that you literally have to be DEAD not to feel,” said Alicia Keys. “She always brings me light and strength even through her most vulnerable performances.” Mary J. Blige put it even more succinctly: “She is the reason why women want to sing.”

So, let’s do this. Album by album, era by era, let’s take a trip through the studio discography of the one and only Aretha Franklin.

To paint a more accurate portrait of her as a creative force, I’ve made two small changes to this list structure versus other discography ranking projects I’ve completed for this newsletter:

1. I’ve previously considered live albums and soundtracks as off-limits in lists like this one. However, I’ve included one of each as part of this discography ranking, as I think any deep dive into Aretha’s career would be incomplete without discussing them. You’ll know those when you see them.

2. Several “lost” albums from her Atlantic tenure aren’t widely available on streaming services. Because of this, I’ve included embeds to full album uploads on YouTube to save you the trouble of digging around for them online.

Okay, enough chitchat.

We begin:

40. The Tender, the Moving, the Swinging Aretha Franklin (1962)

If you’re a producer working with one of the most gifted natural vocal talents of the last century, here’s what you shouldn’t do: make her sound boring. Unfortunately, that’s what happened here. I imagine everyone involved meant well, but the whole record sounds like watching a Ferrari idle in traffic. Robert Mersey’s syrupy production flattens everything dynamic until the songs blur together.

39. Soft and Beautiful (1969)

A contractual ghost from the Columbia vaults, Soft and Beautiful was, by 1969, a relic of a period of her career she’d already outgrown. Released smack in the middle of her peak Atlantic run, it’s Columbia’s transparent attempt to cash in on her newfound superstardom and sounds just as thin as you’d expect. If you take it as a snapshot of how far she’d come, it’s illuminating. Otherwise, you can skip it.

38. A Woman Falling Out of Love (2011)

A self-released album on her own Aretha’s Records imprint, A Woman Falling Out of Love was billed as a return to her classic soul roots. In reality, it’s a mixed bag of adult contemporary with production that is dated even by early-2010s standards. Still, Aretha’s personality comes through the clutter. “How Long I’ve Waited” has flashes of vintage gospel thunder, while “This You Should Know” carries a bittersweet warmth and sincerity to it.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

37. La Diva (1979)

Released just months before Aretha left Atlantic, La Diva is caught in an identity crisis. Aretha famously resisted the disco craze until this point, and by then, it was too late for her to capitalize commercially. The production team (mainly Van McCoy and Chuck Jackson) leans hard into that waning glitter of the dancefloor era, with plenty of layered strings, handclaps, and polished grooves. It’s all surface sheen, but that’s not to say it’s unlistenable.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

36. So Damn Happy (2003)

For all the risk-taking that Aretha carried off so wonderfully in the late-90s, her Arista swan song is content to play things much safer. By that time, Clive Davis had moved on to start J Records and his successor, L.A. Reid, wanted a throwback sensibility. Oddly enough, it’s Aretha’s two collabs with Mary J. Blige, “Holdin’ On” and “No Matter What,” that supply the most fire on what is otherwise a pretty disappointing outing considering the talent at work.

35. Laughing on the Outside (1963)

During her Columbia years, Aretha was rarely (if ever) the problem. The production choices, consisting mostly of formulaic, stirng-heavy standards. frequently were what held those early albums back from achieving greatness, and Laughing on the Outside is no exception. “For All We Know” and “Make Someone Happy” shimmer with flashes of depth, but too much of the album drifts by in tasteful anonymity.

34. Aretha: With The Ray Bryant Combo (1961)

Aertha’s 1961 debut hints at the illustrious career she was about to emark on. That million-dollar voice is there, as fully-formed as you’d hope for at such a young age, already capable of bending standards like “Over the Rainbow” and “Today I Sing the Blues” to her will. There’s charm in hearing a legend warm up, even if the production never meets her halfway. John Hammond’s vision and J. Leslie McFarland’s arrangements sometimes sound tentative to a fault.

33. Sweet Passion (1977)

If there is such a thing as Autopilot Aretha Franklin, it would be 1977’s Sweet Passion. It’s a breezy, pleasant listen, with lots of soft-focus disco backbeats and light touches of funk scattered throughout, though nothing ever gets close to dancefloor banger territory. You can’t help but wonder what could’ve been had she committed to disco divadom and went toe-to-toe with the likes of Donna Summer. Instead, Sweet Passion plays like a charming curiosity, but not much more.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

32. With Everything I Feel in Me (1974)

By late 1974, Aretha’s imperial period magic was drifting into uncharted waters. Four producers, including Aretha herself, tug her sound in competing directions, part pre-disco shimmer, part subdued jazz lounge, part 60s soul stylings. None of it really locks together. Her cover of Stevie Wonder’s “I Love Every Little Thing About You” should’ve been a slam dunk, but it’s oddly stiff. The same goes for “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” (not to be confused with the Elton John and Kiki Dee duet of the same name).

It’s the first time since the early 60s that you can hear Aretha chasing trends instead of setting them.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

31. Aretha (1980)

New label, same star power, but the reset doesn’t quite stick the landing.

On Aretha’s self-titled Arista debut, you can hear Clive Davis’ commercial instincts all over this glossy chart crossover hopeful. But, even with killer session players up and down the credits list and a rhythm section that never really lets up, the problem is feel. The grooves tend to wander and the vocal vamping stretches songs past their natural length. “What a Fool Believes” is the clearest example of a good song that, with another round of editing, could’ve been great.

30. This Christmas, Aretha (2008)

If you’ve ever wondered what happens when the Queen of Soul wraps her voice around the holiday canon, This Christmas, Aretha is your answer. Equal parts reverence and charm, it’s a perfectly fine (if perfunctory) Christmas record whose sound leans contemporary for 2008, full of smooth R&B keyboards and gentle gospel flourishes. “Silent Night” gets that signature melismatic glow, and the Donny Hathaway classic “This Christmas” is a natural fit for her phrasing.

Not essential Aretha, but comforting in the right kind of December mood.

29. Aretha (1986)

The only reason this Aretha finishes a few hairs above 1980’s Aretha is the No. 1 single at its center. “I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me),” her classic duet with George Michael, still sounds fantastic—a hooky gem that snaps into place from the first bar. Most of the other material is pleasant enough, but too many tracks feel interchangeable. Her usual helping of covers, including a version of the Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” never takes off, either.

In short, you have a great single encrusted in an average album. There are worse things in life, folks.

28. Take It Like You Give It (1967)

Aretha’s final Columbia release is a surprisingly bright and coherent collection of leftovers from previous sessions. It’s a lot of fun to hear her trying on different styles, from pop ballads to light soul to gospel, and she sounds relaxed doing it. Maybe because she knew she was almost out the door, you can hear a sense of closure and anticipation for the next chapter. In the context of her career arc, it’s a nice little prelude for the greatness that was just around the corner.

27. What You See Is What You Sweat (1991)

Boy, did I want this album to work more than it did …

Aretha’s first release of the 1990s tries to update her sound to fit the outsized, overproduced pop and adult contemporary that somehow dominated the charts at that time. The LP’s centerpiece, the Michael McDonald-supported “Ever Changing Times,” ultimately falls prey to syrupy, overstated arrangements. On the flip side, her cover of Sly Stone’s “Everyday People” is an underrated bop.

26. The Electrifying Aretha Franklin (1962)

Talk about a clickbait title. Despite its eponymous statement, Columbia doubled down on Aretha’s tailored persona as a jazz ingénue, wrapping her in supper-club strings and torch-song polish. It seems like the general idea was to mold her into the next Dinah Washington (more on how that turned out later in this list). When that strategy hits, like on “You Made Me Love You,” it’s enough to give you chills.

Her phrasing is exquisite, the tone untouchable, and yet it doesn’t always work, primarily because she’s singing inside someone else’s vision.

25. Through the Storm (1989)

During the writing process, I was genuinely torn about where to place Through the Storm. The title track, featuring Elton John, is oddly charming and should earn repeat plays, while the closer, with the Four Tops and Kenny G of all people, is a fun slice of late-80s cheese. And yet, it still sounds pretty dated in spots, with the James Brown collab, “Gimme Your Love,” being Exhibit A. If you’re already on board with Aretha’s Arista era, there’s enough to enjoy. If not, I doubt this record will convert you.

24. You (1975)

It’s not quite a course correction, nor is it a full revival, but You was clearly an attempt to nudge Aretha back into classic R&B territory. Chock full of warm, likeable grooves and arrangements, these songs radiate with an instantly recognizable brand of mid-70s sweetness. Cuts like “Mr. DJ (5 for the DJ) and “I’m Not Strong Enough to Love You Again” are akin to sonic comfort food, undemanding and satisfying in equal measure.

Of all her lost Atlantic albums, You is the most crowd-pleasing.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

23. Get It Right (1983)

After enjoying her biggest commercial success in nearly a decade with 1982’s Jump to It, Aretha ran it back with the same players and production team for another bite at the apple. The result is more hit-and-miss than its predecessor, save for the title track, which absolutely rips. Marcus Miller’s bass and synthesizer work is next-level, as is Yogi Horton’s contributions on drums. The fact that this one stalled out at No. 61 on the Hot 100, despite being as good (if not better) than “Jump to It,” shows you that, sometimes, tastemakers, er, get it wrong.

22. Aretha Franklin Sings the Great Diva Classics (2014)

It’s glorified karaoke, sure, but it’s such a good time that I don’t care. By this point, Aretha owed no one a reinvention, and what we get instead is a romp through pop’s biggest diva anthems that’s equal parts loose, funny, and jaw-dropping. I’m admit that the Auto-Tune use is distracting, especially when you know what her natural vibrato was at its peak, but, at 72, when she decided to lock in, she can still take your breath away.

Her “Rolling in the Deep” cover became a club dancefloor filler for a hot minute while I was still a DJ, and her mashup of “I Will Survive” and “Survivor” is the off-menu home run you didn’t know you needed in your life.

20. Runnin’ Out of Fools (1965)

Runnin’ Out of Fools is a milestone in Aretha’s catalog, as it marks the first legitimate attempt Columbia made to modernize her sound. It mostly succeeds, too, even if it openly cribs a bit too much from Hitsville U.S.A in the process. It’s a covers album that pits her against plenty of famous originals, but it’s a testament to her talent that several of her takes on these standards can lay claim to being the definitive versions. That includes a gorgeous strut through David & Bacharach’s “Walk On By.”

20. Soul Sister (1966)

Five years into her Columbia stint, and Soul Sister is the first Aretha album that fully earns the sentiment in its title. Her voice is in fine form, adding more grit and ache to her phrasing than she had previously. Van McCoy’s pen should also get its fair share of the credit here, supplying her with much fresher-sounding material like “Follow Your Heart” and “Sweet Bitter Love.” That said, the gem that sparkles the most is the closer, “Cry Like a Baby,” which was co-written by Ashford and Simpson.

19. Almighty Fire (1978)

Y’all, Curtis Mayfield has officially entered the group chat (though he’s got more heat coming further up this list), and things have gotten funk.

1978’s Almighty Fire is somewhat of a sequel to their previous collaboration, the Sparkle film soundtrack. It’s not necessarily as sweeping or indulgent as that predecessor, but it’s far too good to be lumped in with the rest of Aretha’s “lost” Atlantic albums that were released between 1975 through the end of the decade. Mayfield is the sole credited composer and producer here, and that surehandedness makes a huge difference when it comes to this record’s cohesiveness.

The title track, which brings some serious, brass heavy gospel heat, is the kind of album opener that makes you sit up straight in your chair and take notice. Aretha’s playing to the back of the room, but it never feels strained or overwrought. “Lady Lady” and “This You Can Believe” twinkle with smooth R&B energy, while the closer “I’m Your Speed” (co-written with then-husband Glynn Turman) is a nice throwback to her piano ballads of yore.

Is it perfect? No. Is it a tender, soul-rich album more fans should revisit? Absolutely.

Due to a lack of widespread streaming availability, I’m sharing a reliable full album upload below.

18. Hey Now Hey (The Other Side of the Sky) (1973)

I’m tempted to call Hey Now Hey (The Other Side of the Sky) a transition album, but I’m not sure that would be entirely accurate. Maybe “changing of the guard” is more apt, since this LP was also her first Atlantic album not to be produced by the great Jerry Wexler. Another R&B legend, Quincy Jones, took the reins instead, long before he helmed pop music’s game-changer. The resulting tracklist is full of thoughtful, out-there ideas that cohere only intermittently.

The best-known cut is also its strongest moment. “Angel,” co-written by Aretha’s younger sister, Carolyn Franklin, is a sweet, supple ballad would go on to sell nearly a million copies on its own. It was a redemption after the previous single, “Master of Eyes (The Deepness of Your Eyes),” was deemed to be such a flop chart-wise that it was left off the album entirely. Other, jazzier moments, like “Moody’s Mood,” carry a languid sort of charm with them, but the sonic elegance feels a little less natural than her peak period. It’s a puzzling outlier amid an otherwise dazzling run.

Also, that cover art … just, no.

17. Soul ‘69 (1969)

Let me be clear about something: From 1967 through 1972, Aretha Franklin’s batting average from a quality perspective was about as good or better than any other A-list soul act. Soul ‘69, a covers collection that includes country, jazz, and R&B standards is one of her most underrated outings during that span. Even when working with material that wasn’t originally written for her, Aretha was able to make it her own and then some.

Music nerds will likely know a lot at least some of the titles that dot this tracklist. Standouts include her interpretations of Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home to Me,” the Miracles’ “Tracks of My Tears,” and, improbably, Joh Hartford’s “Gentle on My Mind,” which was initially released in 1967. Despite largely positive critical reviews, Soul ‘69 didn’t click as well with listeners, ending Aretha’s streak of Top 5 peaks on the Billboard 200 album chart. Though it’s often overshadowed by what came immediately before and after, don’t sleep on this record. It’s one of the more impressive gems on this list.

15. Aretha Arrives (1967) B-

Her second album for Atlantic, Aretha Arrives was recorded and released pretty quickly to capitalize on the momentum generated by I Never Loved a Man the Way I Loved You. On top of the rushed timeline, the songstress was recovering from a serious arm injury she sustained while on tour in the South (she began recording before doctors cleared her to do so). And yet, despite those limitations, it’s a rock-solid outing, flecked with moments of absolute brilliance.

The album opens with a Motown-y cover of the Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction,” complete with some fun reimagingings of that famous Richards guitar riff. “Baby, I Love You” was the big radio hit, one I’m comfortable categorizing a B-tier Aretha classic. But the best moments come in the form of those soaring ballads, namely “Never Let Me Go” and “I Wonder.” If you’re a studio musician or producer, sometimes you’ve just got to get out of Aretha’s way and let her cook.

Cook she did.

15. Love All the Hurt Away (1981)

Love it or hate it, Love All the Hurt Away goes for it.

Production was handled by Aretha and Arif Mardin, who’d go on to win Grammys for his work with Bette Midler and Norah Jones. There’s also a murderer’s row of studio musician talent on this credits list, ranging from the Toto guys to David Foster, Greg Phillinganes, and George Benson. But even that pedigree doesn’t quite prepare you for how hard some of these grooves go, even if the choices don’t sound like they should work on paper.

Take her glorious cover of the Rolling Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” That Marcus Miller bassline sits right up front in the mix, giving the record this indelible snap that much of the previous three or four albums lacked. Ditto for “Living in the Streets” and “Hold On, I’m Comin’,” and which are lively and light on their feet. The latter also won Aretha a Grammy (her 11th) for the Best Female R&B Vocal Performance.

I hadn’t heard this album in a long time before sitting down to take notes for this post. But, after hearing it again with fresh ears, I don’t think it’s ever been given its proper due. Hopefully that changes now.

14. Jump to It (1982) B-

I have fond memories of this being the first non-Atlantic album of Aretha’s that I purposely sought out and gave a front-to-back play. The decision to do so was based purely on the title track, which I had heard in a commercial or TV show, I can’t remember which, but I was instantly hooked. Those funky synths, that “YEAH-yeah, YEAH-yeah” refrain, the interplay with the backup singers—it’s all exceptional stuff.

What I was pleasantly surprised to discover is that the lead single is not the only treasure this LP has to offer. You’ve got “Love Me Right,” which boasts some silky-smooth Luther Vandross vamps, and the sultry reprise of sorts, “(It’s Just) Your Love,” with a delightfully serpentine Marcus Miller bassline. As had become her custom at this time, she closes the tracklist with a soft landing, covering Smokey Robinson’s “Just My Daydream.”

Jump To It isn’t a career peak, but it was definitely a legit return to form with chart success to back that statement up. The craft on display throughout is impeccable.

13. A Rose Is Still a Rose (1998)

Just when you think you know someone …

A Rose is Still a Rose, released the day before Aretha turned 56, was yet another stylistic shake-up in a career full of them. At the suggestion of Clive Davis, she mostly ditched the adult contemporary leanings that had colored her previous two studio albums and instead aligned herself with some of the most prominent hip-hop and R&B producers of the 1990s. Lauryn Hill, Jermaine Dupri, Daryl Simmons, and (ugh) Sean Combs all contribute to production that would’ve sounded right at home on Total Request Live, which would make its MTV debut later that year.

The main draw are the tracks with that late-90s radio-ready bounce to them. “Here We Go Again” could’ve easily been a Mariah Carey hit, while “I’ll Dip,” produced by Dallas Austin, is giving some TLC “Creep” energy (instrumentally, that is). Hill’s work on the title track is suitably laid-back and street-wise, weaving in some funky guitar inflections over top of a stuttering backbeat. You have some ballads that reach for the rafters on this tracklist, but, at this point in her career, Aretha could do those in her sleep. It doesn’t make them any less appealing, but it does make them far less surprising than the cuts that fit right in as part of rap’s “Shiny Suit” era.

12. Yeah!!! (1965)

Don’t let the fake crowd noise fool you. Yeah!!! isn’t a live album—all the reactions and ambience were added after. That said, it feels alive in a way the majority of her earlier Columbia records don’t. Recorded at the label’s New York studios, it serves as a genuine watershed moment, a snapshot of when she began trusting her instincts over the staid preferences of her production team. You can’t help but wonder why Columbia never took the lessons learned on this record and translated it into a similar success arc that Aretha enjoyed at Atlantic, but, hey, their loss.

Her band also sounds sharper throughout, prioritizing a looser, more joyous swing in their playing. That energy seems to have rubbed off on Aretha’s vocals and vice versa. You can practically hear her grinning the entire way through her performance of standards like “Misty” and “Love for Sale.” Producer Clyde Otis keeps the setting simple, giving her ample room to showcase her growing chops on the microphone. For the first time since she started with the label, the phrasing and the mood align perfectly.

It’s still jazz-era Aretha, but the Queen of Soul we’ve all grown to love is peeking through the curtain, as if she were standing just off-stage, waiting for this opening act to finish. It’s a small, unsung triumph to relish.

11. Let Me in Your Life (1974)

It may not have rewritten any of the Aretha Franklin rulebook, but 1974’s Let Me in Your Life is a significant release in her discography. It expertly blends smooth, sophisticated R&B with just enough pop accessibility to make it a crossover success. It catapulted Aretha back to the top of Billboard’s R&B albums chart and peaked inside the Top 15 of their main album chart, narrowly missing Gold certification in the process.

The trio of official singles does a lot of the heavy lifting here. “Until You Come Back to Me,” co-written by Stevie Wonder in 1967, remains one of her best lovelorn ballad-bop hybrids. Equally memorable are covers of “I’m in Love,” penned by Bobby Womack and initially recorded by Wilson Pickett, and Ashford and Simpson’s “Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing.” Of the deeper cuts, “Every Natural Thing” is incredibly charming, while “A Song for You” throbs with sultry late-night appeal. It all amounts to the first of several no-skips tracklists in her discography.

Throughout, Aretha sounds relaxed yet regal. She’s not chasing trends or previous career peaks like she would just a few years later. Instead, she’s unshakably in command from start to finish.

10. Unforgettable: A Tribute to Dinah Washington (1964)

Her fifth album recorded for Columbia, Unforgettable is Aretha Franklin’s first genuinely arresting studio effort. With a carefully selected set of vocal jazz classics, she pays tribute to one of her heroes, Dinah Washington, who had passed away the year prior at just 39 years of age. The story goes that the relationship between the two women became contentious over time, but you’d never know it from Aretha’s performance. Homages don’t get more lovingly tender than this.

The whole notion of stepping into the shoes of one of the most popular singers of the 1950s could’ve been a trap, especially when you consider that Aretha wasn’t the established hitmaker she would become later on. Instead, she makes each part of the tribute sound both effortless and distinctive compared to the originals. Her take on “What a Difference a Day Made” is as much a declaration as anything else, showing audiences how well she can command a smoky, jazz-ballad soundstage when unencumbered from the limitations of Columbia’s milquetoast production choices.

That last point is key to Unforgettable’s success as well. By all accounts, Bob Mersey imposed less notes and structure during recording, on top of shrinking the size of the session players backing Aretha on these tracks. What you’re left with is a record where you can hear all the facets of what made the Queen of Soul such a memorable performer clicking into place. It’s the first album she recorded that you could confidently call “timeless.”

9. This Girl’s in Love with You (1970)

Even though it’s built on lyrical foundations laid by other legendary artists, Aretha’s interpretations of the songs on This Girl’s in Love With You have such a commanding presence that it hardly matters. It’s not like she’s doing straight covers, either. Some of these arrangements border on the experimental, turning blues and rock standards into grittier, deeply felt tours through soul and gospel history. On several occasions, the results are downright uplifting.

The most obvious place to start would be the Beatles covers, both of which are fascinating choices for different reasons. Her version of “Let It Be” is straight out of the church, transforming the track into a far more spiritual experience. I was about to crown it the better version, but Aretha actually beat the Beatles’ version to market by a couple of months. She also takes “Eleanor Rigby” in a grittier, smokier direction, one that amplifies the Dickensian imagery that makes the lyrics so haunting. The ghost story element is teased out in much more vivid detail for me.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Her other covers include dynamite interpretations of Dusty Springfield, Herb Alpert, and the Band, the latter of which is the best of this bunch. Featuring the great Duane Allman on slide guitar, it’s a song that’s tailor-made for Aretha’s sensibilities. There’s an urgency in the way she clips her delivery of the chorus, in particular, that gets me every time. I adore Mavis Staples and Robbie Robertson and have the utmost respect for the 1968 version that still gets spins on classic rock radio. But, that said, Aretha’s hits different. Plain and simple.

8. Sparkle (1976)

When Curtis Mayfield enters the chat, magic usually follows.

That was especially true in 1976, when he’d created a name for himself as a film soundtrack whisperer. After finding enormous success with Superfly, he’d write music for several 1970s box-office hopefuls, including Sparkle, a loose take on the Supremes origin story that featured a pre-Fame Irene Cara in the eponymous lead role. The cast of unknowns sings Mayfield’s songs in the movie, but for the official studio release, he wanted surer hands on the wheel and sought out Aretha to add her voice to the mix.

The chemistry is apparent from the album’s first few seconds. That title track radiates sensuality, with glittering piano, strings, and a harp giving Aretha as pillowy an instrumental bed as she’s ever had. Another standout is “Hooked On Your Love,” a supple, smooth bop that features arguably the most earworm-y chorus hook in her entire discography. If you hear it and don’t immediately start singing along, I don’t know what to tell you, other than there may be something gravely wrong.

The showstopper remains “Something He Can Feel:” a slow, teasing, magnetic anthem best enjoyed with the lights turned down low. It brings an instantly recognizable Quiet Storm heat, long before the movement gifted radio listeners with the likes of Anita Baker, Sade, and many others that owe at least a passing debt to the Queen of Soul. Sparkle the film would come and go from the cultural zeitgeist without so much as a whimper. The soundtrack, on the other hand, has lived as an indelible slice of vintage soul sophistication. It also provided Aretha with a soft victory lap of sorts, the last one she’d enjoy before her Arista era.

7. Who’s Zoomin’ Who? (1985)

To fully appreciate how incredible Who’s Zoomin’ Who is, it’s important to get into the backstory at least a little bit.

Before 1985, Aretha hadn’t sung in any serious capacity in nearly three years. She’d spent the better part of that time caring for her father, the Reverand C.L. Franklin, who was seriously ill. It was only after he passed in 1984 that she started plotting her latest comeback. Through Arista, she began talks with Narada Michael Walden, the former member of the Mahavishnu Orchestra who was about to become one of the most successful pop producers in history. He was already making a name for himself on the R&B charts, but he hadn’t yet worked with the likes of Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey. You could argue he needed this collaboration as much as Aretha did.

So, at 42, the pair fearlessly rebranded the Queen of Soul for a younger, hipper audience, all without sanding off any of her personality. The resulting LP is sleeker, sharper, and deeper than anything she’d released in over a decade. I’ve written about my undying love for the lead single “Freeway of Love,” which is near-perfect as an uplifting floorfiller. But you also have the sly New Wave hybrid “Another Night,” the karaoke-ready gem “Until You Say You Love Me,” the Caribbean-infused “Ain’t Nobody Ever Loved You,” and the synth-driven title track that’s a thump or two away from being a Jam & Lewis joint on a Janet Jackson album. The Eurythmics team-up “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves” rounds out this all-star lineup with one of the best choruses of the decade.

What continues to make Zoomin’ stick is the balance. The big 1980s production makes you move, yes, but Walden never lets the vocals stray from the center of the mix. A true career highlight.

6. Amazing Grace (1972)

When I do these studio discography rankings, I don’t usually include any live albums, but come on now. You can’t do Aretha Franklin’s legacy justice if you don’t at least mention her multi-Platinum release, Amazing Grace.

Recorded in January 1972 at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles, Aretha is accompanied by the Reverend James Cleveland, who acts as a sort of bandleader/master of ceremonies hybrid, and the Southern California Community Choir. In its initial form, the highlights from two separate shows were compiled as a double LP. It was only in 1999 that all the audio was remastered and re-released, adding more depth to what is indisputably one of the great vocal performances in the history of the medium. Any genre, any era.

Even by her lofty standards, Aretha sings with a freedom and purity of spirit that, if you let it, will touch your soul very, very deeply. The opener alone is staggering in its soaring heights, where she and the choir try to one-up each other in their quest to connect, either with each other or a higher power. I’ll let you decide which it is. Other highlights include “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” the unbelievably tender “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” and her rendition of the title track, a legendary 11-minute gospel fireworks show. If you’ve never heard it or any of these songs before, then, perhaps more than any album I’ve said this for in the past, I envy your first time.

A quick sidebar: Even if you’re not a religious individual and haven’t interacted meaningfully with gospel as a genre, I urge you to give this one a spin anyway. Trust me when I say that I’m a staunch non-believer, but that’s never phased me with this one. She could be singing about any God, any faith, any spiritual journey, and I would still have tears in my eyes. It’s that powerful. As a worthy contender for her best-ever record, please don’t skip it.

5. I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You (1967)

I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You is not Aretha’s best studio release, but it is her most important. It signifies the moment in time when Aretha took the crown as the Queen of Soul and didn’t give it up for more than half a century.

After Columbia let her contract expire (she actually owed the label money after her record sales had underperformed), producer Jerry Wexler convinced her to make the move to Atlantic, in part because he wanted to tap into her gospel roots and craft what he called a “tenacious form of rhythm & blues.” That was the key that unlocked Aretha’s full potential as a recording artist. She was given way more creative control, which allowed her to push for a rawer, grittier sound. She was no longer trying to fit into someone else’s mold. Instead, backed by the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section, she gave birth to an aesthetic most now refer to as soul.

In another sign that more agency benefited Aretha enormously, she has a co-writing credit on some of the album’s strongest cuts. “Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream” and “Baby, Baby, Baby” showcase her ability to earn any emotional payoff she gets from well-executed harmonies, while “Dr. Feelgood” is among the horniest and pettiest songs she ever committed to tape. Even when the instrumentation and production exhibit glaring imperfections, as on “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man,” it hardly matters. The mono mixes in particular suit her voice better than any over-manicured studio polish could.

But, let’s be honest, nothing beats the bookends. The opener, “Respect,” is a soul classic so beloved and ubiquitous that most people either don’t know or don’t acknowledge it as an Otis Redding cover (he apparently was thrilled to see Aretha take the song to another level as a single). The closer, her take on Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come,” is just as powerful, albeit in a much different sense. You hear her sing those opening notes, and you can still feel the electricity in the air.

4. Spirit in the Dark (1970)

At the dawn of the 1970s, Aretha’s personal life had reached a breaking point. Not long after she’d sung at Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral, a death she’d later describe as one that shook her to her core, she split from her abusive husband-manager Ted White, a man who was once described as a “pimp” by a Motown producer. At the time their divorce was finalized, she was already pregnant with another man’s son, her fourth, who was born four months before Spirit in the Dark hit store shelves. It’s a fiery record but also an introspective one, turning years of trauma into an unflinching document of survival and repression.

Interestingly, you’d never know any of that to be true if you heard lead single “Don’t Play That Song (You Lied)” and weren’t paying close attention to the lyrics. Even as she’s singing about the inability to leave the past behind her, Aretha sounds nonplussed, banging out piano bars while a laid-back acoustic guitar strums. The addition of the choir almost makes the track sound … I dunno, upbeat? It’s not the right word or the effect she’s going for, but it’s a fascinating, masterful bait-and-switch moment.

Later, the straight blues numbers, primarily the B.B. King covers, “The Thrill is Gone (From Yesterday’s Kiss)” and “Why I Sing the Blues,” take on a kind of serene melancholy. The choice of material is purposeful, too, connecting her strife with the type of mistreatment Black women have endured for centuries. But, throughout this album, Aretha never panders or sounds like she’s looking for your pity. Instead, she mixes pained vulnerability with spiritual might, transforming her lived chaos into artful cohesion. In the end, Spirit in the Dark is the rarest of albums that can comfort and unsettle simultaneously.

3. Aretha Now (1968)

Aretha Now bursts out of the gate like no other album in Aretha Franklin’s discography. She’s delivered more than her fair share of commanding, confident performances, but, even in that context, nothing in her repertoire hits quite like “Think.” From that slinky groove of a piano intro to the call-and-response with her backup singers, you’re hearing the most gifted singer of her generation at the height of her considerable powers. Every time that chorus refrain (”FREEEE-DOOMMM!”) hits my eardrums, it gives me the goosebumps like few other songs can. For me, more than “Respect” or a couple of other tracks that I’ll get to shortly, “Think” is the definitive moment of Aretha’s career.

There’s a lot of love here beyond that titanic opener as well. “I Say A Little Prayer” is an airy, elegant reimagining of Bacharach-David that’s become as much a pop culture staple as her other greatest hits. “See Saw” is outstanding pop craftsmanship, setting her vocals against Motown-style brass and jangle guitar. The covers, which include sultry takes on “Night Time is the Right Time” and Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me,” stand head and shoulders above similar moments in her oeuvre. They sound like full-body performances, unlike anything else that was happening in music at the time.

Aretha Now is a concise (clocking in at 29 minutes), perfectly sequenced listening experience that, unlike albums from the latter stages of her career, is completely free of filler. Every entry on this tracklist is storng enough that it could’ve been part of an encore at one of her live shows, yet the release as a whole moves with purpose and grace. It’s not like she didn’t take risks, either. In lesser hands, the subdued closer, the Ronnie Shannon-penned “I Can’t See Myself Leaving You,” would’ve come across as a self-indulgent piano showcase. Handled by Aretha, Wexler, and company, it’s a quietly triumphant fusion of her jazz, gospel, and blues roots.

This record is an absolute masterclass is finesse, poise, and precision.

2. Lady Soul (1968)

To put it mildly, 1968 was very, very good to Aretha Franklin.

Six months before Aretha Now became one of the hit LPs of that summer, she dropped Lady Soul, a record that helped define what R&B and soul music would sound like for years afterward. Technically, it’s an exquisite listen. The pacing is assured, the arrangements immaculate, and the session players, which included legends like Eric Clapton, Bobby Womack, King Curtis, and several Muscle Shoals veterans, are on point from first note to last. But, more than those aspects, what makes Lady Soul timeless is how autobiographical it is, simultaneously reinforcing Aretha’s trust in a higher power and pulling back the curtain on the ugliness in her personal life.

Aretha recorded the songs for this album not long after “Respect” had topped the Hot 100, making her one of the most popular artists in America. Behind the scenes, however, she was suffering domestic abuse at the hands of her then-husband, Ted White. Wexler said she recorded some of these tracks after sustaining visible injuries from her volatile marriage. That toxic co-dependence plays out in stark contrasts, veering from poison pill kiss-offs like “Chain of Fools,” which would later peak at No. 2 on the Hot 100, and “Money Won’t Change You” to the please-don’t-go cuts “Sweet Sweet Baby (Since You’ve Been Gone)” and “Come Back Baby.” The defiance and remorse may be contradictory from a relationship armchair coach perspective, but it also paints a deeply human picture of what it means to carve out moments of triumph on a world that’s trying to hold you back.

If there’s one track on Lady Soul that proves Aretha was operating in another universe than the rest of the pop music establishment, it’s “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.” Written by Gerry Goffin and composed by the great Carole king, it’s a performance that reaches the rarest of soul nirvana states. Her phrasing, the subtle piano undercurrents, the way she leans into each vowel like it carries the weight of human experience—it’s not to be believed. Carole King’s version is beautiful, but Aretha’s is transcendent. “Natural Woman” is also responsible for arguably the greatest TV award show performance of all time. If you’ve never seen this one before, make sure you have the tissues close by before watching.

1. Young, Gifted and Black (1972)

Young, Gifted and Black is Aretha Franklin at her most fully-formed and, as a result, most breathtaking. Released at the tail-end of an incredible run of hit albums at Atlantic that began in 1967, it feels like the culmination of everything she learned along the way. Not simply as a vocalist, musician, and songwriter, but also as a woman who fought tooth and nail to gain the industry esteem and financial reward that should’ve come far earlier in her life. By this point in her career, she’d already sold millions of records and, artistically, didn’t have anything left to prove when it comes to sheer talent or legacy. Even so, she took it up several notches here.

This tracklist, one I’ve floated through many times, is so vivid in its detail that it sounds downright cinematic. “A Brand New Me,” “First Snow in Kokomo,” and the gorgeous “Day Dreaming,” the latter of which is my all-time favorite Aretha song, are brilliant, soft-focus showcases for how tender and soulful her voice was when she didn’t have the gas pedal pushed all the way to the floor. Later on, she rips off three straight gospel-infused covers that rank with her best material, the most memorable of which is her take on the Elton John classic, “Border Song (Holy Moses).” The fact that she took material most of us (and her fans) knew well and transformed them into heaven-scraping vocal achievements is nothing short of astonishing.

Elsewhere in this time capsule of excellence, you have “Rock Steady,” a driving, syncopated hip-shaker that features Donny Hathaway on that opening Hammond organ riff. It’s become one of her most timeless funk tracks, conquering the TV airwaves and hip-hop sample culture in equal measure. There’s also the title track, a gospel refresh of Nina Simone’s 1969 single, which is just as transcendent as an inspirational song of Black pride. It quickly grew in stature as a political statement and morale raiser in the Black community during and after the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements. “When she sang ‘Young, Gifted and Black,’ it brought about a pride in me,” Detroit native and fan Leslie Mathews said after Aretha’s passing. “I’d never heard anyone say I was gifted. It was the first time I’d heard gifted and black in the same phrase. I felt proud. I felt valuable.”

For me (and many others), it’s one of the most perfect albums of the 1970s, if not in music history.

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Which Aretha classic is your favorite? Sound off in the comments.