It’s 1967. Aretha Franklin is sitting at a piano in Atlantic Studios. She’s already a star, but she hasn't yet become the Queen. Then comes that opening piano chord—grounded, soulful, and heavy with a kind of weary grace. When she opens her mouth to sing "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman," she isn't just performing a song. She’s claiming a throne. Honestly, most people think this is just a standard love song, but it’s actually a masterclass in songwriting, production, and pure, raw vocal power that changed the trajectory of American music.
The Muscle Shoals Magic Behind the Track
You can't talk about (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman Aretha Franklin recorded without talking about the people in the room. This wasn't a solo effort. It was a collision of geniuses. Jerry Wexler, the legendary producer at Atlantic Records, was riding in a car with Carole King and Gerry Goffin. He yelled out the title "Natural Woman" to them, basically commissioning a hit on the spot.
Carole King went home and nailed the melody. It’s got that gospel-adjacent structure that fits Aretha like a glove. But the secret sauce? That's the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section. These guys were white session musicians from Alabama who played with so much soul you’d swear they grew up in the pews of a Detroit Baptist church.
The bassline is deceptive. Tommy Cogbill plays it with this rolling, melodic feel that lets the song breathe. It doesn’t crowd Aretha. It supports her. When you listen to the original 1967 master, pay attention to the space between the notes. That silence is where the soul lives. It’s what makes the climax feel so massive when the backing vocals—The Sweet Inspirations, featuring Cissy Houston (Whitney’s mom!)—kick in with that "natural woman" refrain.
Why the Lyrics Weren't Just About Romance
In the late sixties, the word "natural" carried a huge amount of weight. We’re talking about the height of the Civil Rights Movement and the burgeoning "Black is Beautiful" era. While Carole King wrote it as a beautiful tribute to a transformative love, Aretha’s delivery turned it into a political statement.
She sang it with a sense of reclaimed identity.
When she sings about being "uninspired" and feeling "so tired," she’s tapping into a universal exhaustion. Then, the hook hits. It’s an awakening. For many Black women in 1967, hearing Aretha—a woman who looked like them and sang like their mothers and grandmothers—claim her "naturalness" was a radical act of self-love. It wasn’t just about a man making her feel good. It was about her finally feeling like herself in a world that constantly told her she wasn't enough.
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That 2015 Kennedy Center Performance (The Fur Coat Moment)
If you haven't seen the video of Aretha performing this for Carole King at the 2015 Kennedy Center Honors, stop everything and go watch it. Barack Obama is literally wiping away a tear.
Aretha was 73 years old.
Her voice had changed, sure. It was deeper, grainier, and had more "weight" to it. But the soul? It was untouched. She sits at the piano, starts the song, and then—in one of the most iconic moments in live performance history—she stands up, drops her floor-length fur coat to the stage, and hits a high note that should have been impossible for a woman her age.
It was a flex. Pure and simple.
She was reminding everyone in that room, from the President to the songwriter herself, that she still owned the song. Carole King’s reaction in the balcony—basically losing her mind with joy—tells you everything you need to know about the respect Aretha commanded. It proved that (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman Aretha Franklin isn't just a 1960s relic. It’s a living, breathing piece of art.
The Technical Brilliance of Aretha's Vocal Arrangement
Most singers try to over-sing this song. They growl, they riff, they do too much. Aretha’s genius was her restraint.
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- The Verse: She starts almost in a whisper. It’s conversational. She’s telling a story.
- The Bridge: The tension builds. The chords start to climb.
- The Chorus: This is where she opens up. But even then, she doesn't give you everything at once.
She uses a technique called "vocal coloring." She’ll hit a note clean, then add a bit of grit at the very end. It’s subtle. It makes the listener feel the emotion rather than just hearing the technique.
Also, can we talk about her piano playing? Aretha was a world-class pianist. She didn't just sing over the track; she led the band from the keys. Her gospel-inflected piano style is the backbone of the recording. It’s got that "walking" rhythm that keeps the song from becoming too much of a slow ballad.
Comparing the Covers: From Mary J. Blige to Celine Dion
Everyone has tried to cover this. Honestly, most fail.
Mary J. Blige did a version for the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack that was actually pretty great because she brought a hip-hop soul grit to it. She didn't try to be Aretha; she tried to be Mary. Celine Dion covered it, and while the vocals are technically perfect—because, well, she’s Celine—it lacks that specific "dirt" under the fingernails that makes Aretha’s version feel real.
Even Carole King recorded her own version for her massive album Tapestry. It’s lovely. It’s soft, acoustic, and singer-songwriter-y. But Carole herself would be the first to tell you: once Aretha sang it, it belonged to Aretha.
The Lasting Legacy of the "Natural Woman"
The song has become a shorthand for female empowerment, but it’s deeper than a slogan. It’s about the vulnerability required to let someone else see the real you. Aretha’s performance captures the moment of relief when you can finally stop pretending.
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In a world of Auto-Tune and over-produced pop, the 1967 recording stands out because it’s so human. You can hear the room. You can hear the wooden hammers of the piano hitting the strings. You can hear Aretha taking a breath.
It’s perfect because it’s imperfect.
How to Truly Appreciate the Track Today
If you want to experience the full power of the song, don't just listen to it on your phone speakers while doing the dishes.
- Find a high-quality vinyl or FLAC file. The dynamic range on the original Atlantic pressing is incredible.
- Isolate the backing vocals. Listen to how The Sweet Inspirations provide a "cushion" for Aretha to land on.
- Watch the 1968 live version from Amsterdam. It’s Aretha in her absolute prime, showing the world exactly what "soul" means.
- Read Carole King’s memoir. She talks about the day she wrote it and the sheer shock of hearing Aretha’s first take.
The song remains a staple because it touches something fundamental. It doesn't matter if it's 1967 or 2026; the feeling of finally being "found" by someone who sees your true self is timeless. Aretha Franklin didn't just sing a song; she gave us a roadmap for how to be vulnerable and powerful at the exact same time. That’s the definition of a natural woman.
To get the most out of your listening experience, compare the original 1967 mono mix with the more common stereo remaster. You'll find that the mono version has a punchier, more aggressive sound that highlights the rhythm section, whereas the stereo version allows the backing vocals to shimmer. Listening to both provides a deeper understanding of how soul music was engineered to cut through the AM radio waves of the sixties while maintaining its sophisticated musicality.