The US had Aretha, the UK Dusty Springfield. We had Renée. She taught us all so much. She knew not only what music was, but where it came from. We had an inkling, but so much of it was so far away. It came drifting down to us over an ocean of radio waves. We had to wonder and learn. She already contained it within.
She showed us how to front a bunch of musicians, and how not to. Her voice had everything. Just everything. If beauty has a sound, it is the voice of Renée.
I hadn’t seen her for years, but we spent a little time together when she lived over here in LA. I didn’t know her well, but well enough for her to fall out with me. She didn’t speak to me for a couple of years. It didn’t matter, I still loved her, and after a while she just started talking to me again as if nothing had happened. Renée could be scary until you got to know her. And then she was really scary. She was funny, filthy, and if I managed to make her throw her head back and laugh, well, that was something.
This is a sad thing isn’t it? Just when we were processing the loss of Jeff Beck, this occurs.
What a woman, what a singer. She was at the top of the class, and long may she remain. The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.
