by Francesca Harding
If we’re talking all-around, best to ever do it, Sam Cooke had better land somewhere near the top of your list.
I discovered Sam’s G.O.A.T. status as a teenager. I had been sifting through used vinyl at my local Goodwill store, where I came across his greatest hits record ‑- the one with the yellow background, block letters boasting only a fraction of his numerous hits and Sam flashing that signature, easy smile. Months prior I had finally saved enough to get my hands on a record-player and every weekend afterwards was spent at thrift stores around town in search of vinyl gold. I remember purchasing the album for less than $10 and damn near sprinting home to give it a listen.
After dropping the needle on the record, it didn’t take much time to realize that the soundtrack of Sam’s catalogue had accompanied some of my life’s most pivotal moments: when I was no more than 7 and my mother corralled my two sisters and I into our living room to teach us to cha-cha, we did it to the Sam Cooke song of the same name; during my short stint learning the upright bass as a 10thgrader, playing Summertime was my song of choice; when my best friend Herick died suddenly during my first year away at college, playing Bring It On Home over and over was one of the few things to soothe my bruised heart. Years later while Djing a 2008 presidential election party, I played A Change is Gonna Come when Obama clinched the win. As absurd as it may now sound, in that moment -- with Sam’s voice prophesying a time in the future where equality might be realized -- we all secretly hoped that the world he’d envisioned had finally arrived, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
But 12 years seems like a lifetime ago and the notion that the world was attempting to redeem itself of the sin of treating folk with melanin as subhuman was an illusion, the picture Sam painted of a changed, more compassionate world as far away as ever. Still, pressing play on any Sam Cooke record, even today, is therapeutic. His voice remains the sweetest, most soothing sound I’ve ever heard, his message of empowerment and political advancement still just as timely.
This man, credited with the creation of ‘soul music’ as we know it, who broke barriers with the start of SAR Records along with a publishing imprint (one of the first Black men to achieve this feat); who grew an Afro in defiance of Western standards and boycotted concerts with segregated audiences; who in his early days as a gospel singer managed to popularize the genre among young people; who was the first Black, solo artist to top the Billboard pop chart landing 29 Top 40 hits in nine years; who paved the way for the likes of Aretha, Al, Curtis and Marvin; this man -- our first, Black, crossover superstar who achieved all of this and more in just thirty-three years, is the prototype for unapologetically taking space and demanding to live on one’s own terms. Fifty-five years after his untimely death and Sam’s life serves as a blueprint for navigating today’s waters.
Deciding which artist gets to occupy G.O.A.T. status can be a haphazard exercise, dependent on the perspective of a subjective listener using some ethereal measuring stick to quantify and qualify greatness. As futile as this exercise may be, it is still an irresistible one. If you have me tell it, timelessness is the most important identifier and the eternality of Sam’s messaging naturally posits him as frontrunner. He sang of love, pain and injustice. In a vocal style that wasn’t particularly flashy or exaggerated, he sang us towards resilience and healing. Songs like Good News, Goin’ Home, and That’s Where It’s At urge us to improve our present circumstances while reminding us to consider what might exist beyond this world once we’re gone. With a knack for arrangement, unmatched vocal dexterity and the ability to sound like he was always singing straight from the depths of his soul, Sam could encapsulate the most complex of subjects into chewable bites, decidedly taking us wherever he intended us to journey to.
It’s on the album, “Ain’t that Good News” where Sam sings what I believe to be the most memorable lyric of his career:
Because where there’s light, there’s hope.
And really, isn’t this what we want music to do? To make us hopeful, to inspire us and to give us peace during times of uncertainty? Quite literally, we need music to keep us sane. And if there is any artist equipped with an archive diverse enough in both sound and emotion to do just that, it’s Sam. I encourage anyone in search of solace or stimulation or both to hit play on any Sam Cooke record, sing every lyric at the top of their lungs, and find calm between every measure.
*Press play (below) to hear an hour-long mix of some of my favorite Sam Cooke tunes.