Aretha Franklin – Amazing Grace (1972)

When Amazing Grace dropped in 1972, the Queen of Soul didn’t just return to her gospel roots—she burned the whole tree down and rebuilt it into a cathedral. This wasn’t just a gospel album. It was a spiritual earthquake. A holy rollercoaster. A soul baptism on vinyl.

Recorded live at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles over two nights, with the legendary Reverend James Cleveland and the Southern California Community Choir in full glorious flight, Amazing Grace is the sound of a woman catching fire in real time. If you ever needed proof that music can be divine, here it is, in 90 blistering, sweat-drenched, spirit-filled minutes.

Let’s not be polite: Aretha absolutely devours every note on this record. She doesn’t sing to the crowd—she sings through them, channeling generations of joy, grief, resistance, and rapture. It’s not just technique (though, my God, the technique!). It’s presence. Power. Purpose. You can feel the walls of that church shaking.

The album opens with a slow-building, spine-tingling version of Marvin Gaye’s “Wholy Holy,” and right from the jump, you know you’re not just listening to music—you’re witnessing transformation. Then comes “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” and Aretha’s voice floats over the piano like a prayer dipped in molasses. And then, the knockout: “Amazing Grace.” Twelve minutes long. Monumental. It doesn’t just raise goosebumps—it resurrects them.

But the real showstopper might be “How I Got Over.” The choir roars, the audience claps in time, and Aretha wails like a freight train headed straight for Heaven’s front porch. You can hear the room erupt, and it’s not just applause—it’s testimony. Some albums you hear. This one, you feel in your bones.

And don’t overlook the band: Bernard Purdie on drums, Chuck Rainey on bass, Cornell Dupree on guitar—these are world-class players keeping it tight, low, and locked-in, letting Aretha soar without ever crowding her. It’s a masterclass in restraint and reverence.

What’s wild is that Amazing Grace became her best-selling album—and it’s not even a “secular” record. No pop polish. No crossover compromise. Just Aretha, in a church, doing what she was born to do. It was a homecoming and a coronation, all at once.

And yet, it took until 2018—forty-six years later—for the accompanying concert film to finally see the light of day. When it did, audiences wept. Not just from nostalgia, but from awe. Because watching Aretha in her full gospel glory is like staring directly into the sun: it’s overwhelming, humbling, and somehow, healing.