As one of those poor “who’s the greatest” who gave a second thought to Miss Sissy, I often think back to when she expressed her voice at its most ethereal. It might be one of the best sounds ever hit on a recording, so I always savored it. The group that Houston sang with Sweet Inspirations included backing by other acts such as Van Morrison, Elvis Presley, Wilson Pickett, Jimi Hendrix, and Dusty Springfield. However, the Inspirations offered their unwavering support to Franklin. And it was on Franklin’s 1968 album Lady Soul that Sissy culminated with their songs. Those are “Chain of Fools” and “(You Make Me Feel Like) a Natural Woman.” But it’s the last song, “Ain’t No Way,” that always causes numbness. Aretha’s sister, Carolyn Franklin, wrote the song, which is a slow burn as the album moves towards a spectral fade-out. With Aretha alone, this is a gorgeous chamber music-like piece and an unforgettable way to end an already perfect album.
And then, at about the 63rd second, this tremendous, dizzyingly high-pitched sound rises up from behind Aretha’s naivety, like a traffic light, a siren, a sun. This is Cissy Houston. It’s not just that she held down a note for 13 seconds. It’s that she’s giving it shape and body. The memo trembles. It hurts. My vocalist friend guesses she’s in high C, or Himalayas. But the sound of climbing is not heard, only the sound of stretching and luxury. The way Sissy records it, it’s as if the notes are dreams coming from Aretha’s subconscious. But it’s also like someone picking up a bell jar, examining what floats by, and then gently putting it back down. The sound comes out, reaches a peak, and then sets. The clarity was otherworldly and I had forgotten that a woman, not a theremin, produced it.
“Ain’t No Way” lasts 4 minutes and 12 seconds. The jar is lifted 5 times. Indeed, this opera also impressed my cousin Leontyne. It was only then that I realized that Aretha Franklin had the second most incredible sound on an Aretha Franklin record.
Merv Griffin famously invited 19-year-old Whitney Houston to make her television debut in 1983. Sissy is by her side. They duet in an artfully arranged, high-energy medley. “Ain’t No Way” is a big part of it. My daughter plays Aretha. Mother will do it herself. And it is tempting to say that the note is still within her reach and therefore surpassed because of all the grace, power, and glory it evokes. Even in “Merv Griffin,” there’s a moving, divine spectacle of redemption here, one that anyone who “wants to think about Sissy at all” is welcome to interpret as revenge.
