Connect with us

Arts & Entertainment

Franklin’s fumble

New album finds ‘woman falling’ with bad songs, dated production

Published

on

So why not re-shoot your album cover after you lost 85 pounds? Alas the cover of Aretha Franklin's new album is but one of many mysteries surrounding the soul legend. (Photo courtesy of Wal-Mart)

It’s painful when a long-awaited album from a much-loved artist finally appears and is a disaster.

The pain is especially acute on Aretha Franklin’s new album, the Wal-Mart exclusive “A Woman Falling Out of Love.” Rumors swirled wildly last fall that she had pancreatic cancer — Rolling Stone even went to press with the news citing anonymous Franklin family members. So it’s a delight and huge relief to see a much trimmer Aretha — she lost about 85 pounds — back on the media circuit, looking healthier than she has in years and rescheduling concerts she postponed last year during her mystery illness (she plays Wolf Trap June 21).

What a sweet coda to the story if “Woman Falling” had been a solid, career-punctuating comeback on a par with her last good album, 1998’s “A Rose is Still a Rose.” Sadly, it’s her worst album in ages joining schlock like “Almighty Fire,” “You,” “Sweet Passion” and “Get it Right” as some of the least compelling junk in her vast discography.

Aside from the fact that she’s healthy and, based on last week’s TV promo appearances, in reasonably good voice, the good news is that the album is out at all. She was predicting an imminent release as far back as 2006 when she first mentioned the title to Billboard. It was so unfathomably delayed, it became almost a joke, sort of R&B’s answer to “Chinese Democracy,” the decade-in-the-making Guns n’ Roses album that finally saw release in 2008. Despite being active on the touring circuit, Franklin’s studio output ground nearly to a halt in the last 10 years. There was an uneven Christmas album in 2008. Her last “real” album was 2003’s “So Damn Happy.” It felt hit-and-miss at the time; it plays like a masterpiece, though, compared to “Woman Falling.”

Franklin has boasted in interviews this new project finally gives her creative control. She sees this as a major plus — sadly, she’s probably the only one. Her career, despite all the critical acclaim, has always been spotty. For every “Think,” “Freeway of Love” or “Chain of Fools,” there’ve been dozens of mediocre album tracks that fail to resonate. Because her early years at Atlantic were so smoldering and her voice has lasted, Franklin always managed a staggering level of acclaim considering how much junk there is on many of her records.

But left to her own devices, Franklin stumbles badly here churning out an inconsistent and all-over-the-map sonic mess that struggles to muster even one catchy hook or chorus. “This You Should Know” (which she both wrote and produced), “Put it Back Together Again,” “When 2 Become One” and first single “How Long I’ve Been Waiting” sink like quicksand in a soggy stew of momentum-sapping and dated-sounding R&B drivel.

Franklin, thankfully, sounds great. Her voice — while not quite the rafter raising feat of nature it was 30 years ago — still has a luster and sheen that’s delightful to hear. In a way, though, it makes this album doubly tragic — with better material, it’s obvious Franklin possesses the vocal wherewithal to have produced a home run.

The covers are hit and miss, but two of the three are the record’s high points. A sassy, bluesy cover of B.B. King’s “Sweet Sixteen” promises early hope but proves an isolated and fleeting moment. A duet with an oddly uncredited Ronald Isley on “The Way We Were” is sweeping and feels positively glorious compared to everything else. “A Summer Place,” the theme from the 1959 film of the same title, doesn’t fare nearly as well. An oddball outro dialogue with an uncredited male guest is embarrassing, cheesy and weird.

The insipd “New Day” sounds like a promising change of pace initially with its deep bassline but soon dissolves into trite lyrics (“you can make it if you try!”). “Faithful,” a duet with gospel’s Karen Clark-Sheard is so ludicrously oversung it makes Christina Aguilera sound reserved.

And despite a Billy Preston-caliber organ accompaniment courtesy of Darrell Houston, “His Eye is On the Sparrow” shows merely that Franklin’s son Eddie, singing lead here, inherited his mother’s range but not her interpretive finesse. She accompanies him on piano. It gives the album warmth, but since Aretha’s never recorded this standard herself, I’d have much rather heard her sing it.

The album closes with a bombastic rendition of “My Country Tis of Thee,” which Franklin sang at Obama’s inauguration. She battled the cold that day — here she battles an overwrought orchestration (her own arrangement) that never met a musical cliché (rumbling timpani!, gospel choir on caffeine!) that it didn’t try to work in.

Franklin said she cut tracks with Faith Hill, Shirley Caesar and several producers for this album but they’re all MIA. It’s impossible to know how much was recorded over the last five years for this album but considering what made the final cut, one shudders to imagine the outtakes. From the amateur photography and packaging to the dubious selections and bland production, this is a near-total disaster.

Advertisement
FUND LGBTQ JOURNALISM
SIGN UP FOR E-BLAST

Celebrity News

Fashion icon Bob Mackie dead at 87

Designing legend to all the divas, gone but not forgotten

Published

on

Bob Mackie (Photo courtesy of Mackie's Instagram page)

To those still reeling from the loss of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry, we have another queer icon to add to the In Memoriam of 2026: Bob Mackie. A designer known for being extra, before that was even a thing, has left us with a legacy of looks and an indelible mark on fashion. 

The news broke on his Instagram account Monday, Sept. 14, with the message:

“It is with a heavy heart that we share the news that Mr. Bob Mackie passed away today. He lived his 87 years to the fullest, fulfilling his dream of being a fashion and costume designer, which is all he ever wanted to do. His genius and extraordinary designs will live on forever, continuing to bring beauty into this world.” According to People magazine, he passed away in Palm Springs, Calif., due to pneumonia. 

At 87, Mackie is the definitive designer for divas. Mackie has literally dressed them all, including Diana Ross, Whitney Houston, Barbara Streisand, Dolly Parton, Tina Turner, Bette Midler, Bernadette Peters, and even RuPaul. He’s dressed film and television icons like Raquel Welch, Lynda Carter, Goldie Hawn, and Jennifer Lopez. It’s not just female divas; he’s also done many of Elton John’s famous costumes as well as David Bowie’s.

His first major mark was drawing the first design of Marilyn Monroe’s famous “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” dress. Next, he was an assistant to costume designer Ray Aghayan on “The Judy Garland Show.” The two would carry on a professional and romantic partnership for 50 years until Aghayan’s passing in 2011.  

Mackie then went on to do all of the costumes for “The Carol Burnett Show,” creating an estimated 17,000 costumes for her show’s 11-year run. This gave him much critical acclaim and notoriety, making him a permanent fixture in the variety show market. 

He became a frequent collaborator of Cher, having made her famous midriff-revealing Oscar gown, her “If I Could Turn Back Time” costume, and being her designer for her various television shows, including “The Sonny and Cher Show.” He even designed costumes for her Farewell Tour. The two are synonymous with him having lent his artistic sensibilities to give her a distinct look. Cher even said in 2024, “He helped me create a different me.” 

Mackie has left his mark on fashion with a distinct style of glamorous, over-the-top looks. He received the monikers the “Sultan of Sequins,” the “Rajah of Rhinestones,” and the “Guru of Glitter” for challenging the line between costume and fashion with lots of fringe, flash, and over-the-top eye-catching elements. He’s managed to retain a presence not just in entertainment but in the fashion industry for decades. Most recently, one of his outfits was a major plot point for the final season of “Hacks.” 

Mackie has received his share of awards and acknowledgments. In addition to dressing many people for the Oscars, he received three nominations, including dressing Diana Ross for “Lady Sings the Blues.” He won a Tony Award for “The Cher Show.” He won nine Emmy Awards and received 30 nominations for his prolific television work. 

Luckily, Mackie’s life was celebrated before his passing, receiving various Lifetime achievement awards including the Geoffrey Beene CFDA Lifetime Achievement Award, being honored by the Television Hall of Fame, and receiving “RuPaul’s Drag Race”‘s Giving Us Life-time Achievement Award. He was the first guest judge on the popular series. 

It’s clear that not only was Mackie talented, he was magical. He gave a bit of stardust to countless celebrities, luminaries, and public figures with looks that not only defied expectations but managed to be truly spectacular. He’s part of the glitz we think of when we think of Hollywood, and while often elaborate costumes, the shrewd fashion sense and elegance cannot be denied. Mackie will be missed, but his work lives on in the countless pieces still in circulation and forever captured on film and in media.

Continue Reading

Photos

PHOTOS: SMYAL Fall Brunch

LGBTQ youth services organization holds 29th annual event

Published

on

Performer Felicia Curry sings 'Tomorrow' at the SMYAL Fall Brunch on Sunday. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The 29th annual SMYAL Fall Brunch was held at the Marriott Marquis on Sunday, Sept. 13. 

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

Continue Reading

Books

Dolly Parton biography puts her hardships into context

‘Ain’t Nobody’s Fool’ a highly researched tome not to be missed

Published

on

(Book cover image courtesy of St. Martin's Press)

‘Ain’t Nobody’s Fool: The Life and Times of Dolly Parton’
By Martha Ackmann
c.2026, St. Martin’s Press
$30/304 pages

Not too bright.

That’s what people once thought about you. Your language didn’t conform, you had your own sense of style, and you were ignorant about modern things and places and foods. But you were no dummy. You were different, and you had a secret: as in the new biography, “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool: The Life and Times of Dolly Parton” by Martha Ackmann, you knew exactly where you were going.

When Avie Lee Owens and Lee Parton first married, they had the very basics: “two knives, two forks, two spoons, a skillet, a butcher knife, and an old iron kettle.” He was 17; she was 15. Babies came quick. The fourth one was named Dolly, after two great-aunts.

Almost from the time she could walk, Dolly sang. Before she was old enough to attend school, she wrote poetry, and she’d begun to notice rhythms and beats she could make with her fingers. As a schoolchild, she created her own musical instruments out of scraps, and she was eager to perform whenever anyone asked her – and they asked often, because Dolly Parton was a nice girl, and her sense of humor conveyed a warmth that drew people in.

Growing up in the Tennessee mountains, Parton was independent, shunning marriage and child-raising, instead focusing on a dream of being a star. By the time she was in high school, she’d had a regular gig on local television but she recognized that there were few opportunities for fame in the mountains, so she left for Nashville the day after high school graduation, with the snickers of naysayers ringing in her ears.

She stayed with an aunt and uncle there, and she beat the streets, dined on grocery store samples to get by, and missed her family and friends. And they worried about her, but they knew nothing would derail her plans. They knew Dolly would be fine.

As a friend said, “’She had her head on pretty good.’”

Chances are that if you’ve listened to music any time in the last 60 years, you’ve heard Dolly Parton through her words or her music or both. Now you need to learn more about her, and “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool” is where to do it.

Here’s a biography that grabs you on the first page with the tiniest bit of family tree, but not so much that you get bored with it. Author Martha Ackmann writes about Dolly Parton’s early life, putting hardships and experiences in context, both personally and historically. There are name-drops, but not overly so, as Ackmann takes you through Parton’s career, her heartbreaks, her marriage, and her years with Porter Wagoner, in detail but not dramatically embellished or outrageously told. It’s a biography that’s just right, sourced well and written with a fresh take that, like its subject, tells a good story. 

Fans, of course, will want this highly researched book but music lovers of any age or type will eat it up. That means you, so use up that Christmas gift certificate. “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool” just shines.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

Continue Reading

Popular