The day in Alabama when Aretha became the Queen of Soul: An example of “calculating the magic” in creative leadership

One of the last movies I saw in 2021 was RESPECT, the biopic about Aretha Franklin starring Jennifer Hudson. It tells the story of her troubled childhood in Detroit in the 1950s, her early career as a jazz singer and the many challenges she had to face on her journey to becoming the ‘Queen of Soul’ as whom we all remember her today.

A scene that inspired me because of the lesson it holds for creative leadership was the recording session in 1967 at the FAME Studios in Alabama. Aretha had just been signed by her second label, Atlantic Records, when her new producer, Jerry Wexler, brought her there to record the song “I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You)”. Hours into a turbulent session of fights and frustration, Spooner Oldham came up with a five-note lick on the electric piano, and suddenly everything fell into place.

The result was the breakthrough hit that completely turned Aretha’s career around. After nearly a decade in the music business and nine released albums without commercial success, her soulful, iconic sound was born, and signature hits like “Respect”, “(You Make Me Feel Like A) Natural Woman” and “Chain of Fools” were soon to follow.?

From impeccable to iconic

What had happened? Aretha had always been a brilliant singer, and she had worked with excellent musicians at her first label, Columbia Records in New York City, and yet, had never landed a real hit. From a creative point of view, this got me wondering: When you’ve got all the talent, the best resources in the world, and create something that is impeccable but far from iconic, what is missing??

Calculating the magic

I believe what happened in Alabama is the result of what I like to call “calculating the magic”. And it was done by the person who orchestrated the session, the acclaimed producer Jerry Wexler. He had watched Aretha’s career and was well aware of her potential. Most importantly though: He had a vision – a strong feeling that, under different circumstances, something big would happen. To me, trusting your vision is a fundamental aspect of creative leadership as it sets the tone for the entire process and has the power to inspire your team. The framework was another important aspect: By deciding to record in rural Muscle Shoals, far off from bustling Manhattan, Wexler had created a new setting for Aretha. There, he introduced her to musicians she had never worked with before, relying on an unexpected and diverse mix of talents. And this, in my experience, is one of the biggest assets for any creative team.?

Also, Wexler did not express any specific expectations regarding the result. Generally, as a leader, the more precisely you articulate a goal, the better the chances that you’ll receive your desired outcome. In creative leadership, however, this logic only works so far. You cannot instruct originality, you can only enable it. Jerry Wexler knew this. His only expectation was to create something different. In doing so, he provided Aretha with a clean slate for her musical expression and created the opportunity for something iconic to happen. And lastly, Wexler had the courage to trust the process. This may even be the hardest part: making peace with the fact that it might work, or it might not. As a creative leader, you get to decide the framework, the briefing and the people in the room, but you never get to control the outcome – ever. At a certain point, you have to trust in diversity, talent and inspiration.

The coda*

My takeaway from this story is: You cannot force, plan or script something iconic – but there are certain aspects within your power as a leader you can utilize to enable the process. Where the calculating ends, the magic begins. Everything in between is trust: Trust your vision, trust the framework, trust the briefing, and trust the people you called in the room. That is what calculating the magic as a creative leader is about.?

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* coda, (Italian: “tail”) in musical composition, a concluding section (typically at the end of a sonata movement) that is based, as a general rule, on extensions or elaborations of thematic material previously heard.