From the opening notes that crank up "Respect" (uh, uh, um; uh, uh, um, followed by that jarring slide down into the basement) what we all feel is awe in the presence of a trailblazing queen.
The first female artist inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Rolling Stone magazine's greatest singer of all time. Someone who grew up, thanks to her prominent Baptist preacher father, in the company of Mahalia Jackson, Sam Cooke (an early crush), Jackie Wilson, and Martin Luther King, jr. One can't overstate just how wonderful an iron-willed, centered, female voice was in the '60s.
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Each band or performer is graded on four things:
1. Innovation
2. Influence in my life--as a typical American
3. Integrity: the band's approach to music (just making a buck or honing a craft?)
4. Immortality--am I, a typical American--still eager to hear their music
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6/2/3/4 -- 15 out of a perfect 40
A vignette: I was walking through Paia, Maui, late at night in 1979, when I noticed, up ahead, several native Hawaiian young men hanging out along the sidewalk outside a restaurant. I was a bit apprehensive, until I heard the opening bars to the familiar "Respect" coming from the jukebox inside.
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