"That song came out in 1967, but I don’t care when you it it, it still doesn’t sound dated. It’s always current. You just can’t beat it. All singers aspired to be Sam. He was a beautiful man. Very charming, engaging – a great artist with a whole lotta personality. It was thrilling for me – and every other woman – to be in the room with him. When I first heard ‘You Send Me,’ I was driving down South, traveling with my dad, doing services in various city auditoriums and arenas [Franklin would have been about 15]. My sister Erma and I were in the car, and when that came on the radio, we had to stop. It was pandemonium. We got out of the car, and we were just running around the car, screaming, ‘Sam was on! Sam was on! Sam is on the radio! Listen to this song!’ And we were just having one fit on the highway. We were just thrilled, because he had just left the gospel field. That was the first time hearing what he did after he leaving it. So it was super exciting for us. Sam was what you call a singer’s singer. My dad used to tell me not to copy him, that I had a voice. He stopped that early on, and he was absolutely right. As a performer, he was very simplistic. He didn’t do a lot of running around on the stage, and because he knew he didn’t have to. He had a voice, and he didn’t have to do anything but stand in one place and wipe you out."

"I still hadn’t really bought a record, so I was still listening to things mainly on the radio, but also watching the chart rundown on “Top of the Pops.” That’s when I became aware of more grown-up music. I liked glam-rock; we’re not allowed to mention his name now, but Gary Glitter’s music was quite good. “Blockbuster!” by Sweet really takes me back to that time because that song starts with a siren. Whenever I hear that record, it immediately transports me back to being on the bumper cars at fun fair. It’s perfect music for that. I was into music like that, but my mum would still get babysitters, because my sister was 8 at the time. So we would have teenage girls come around the house, and one of them had a copy of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. The record was broken—apparently, she had left it on the radiogram and somebody had sat on the lid—so you couldn’t play the first track on side one or side two. But she still brought it around. I had to go to bed for school the next day, but I listened to that record through the floorboards. I was actually quite frightened by the bits and bites of deranged laughing, and I wished that I had not listened to it. But I started to realize that music wasn’t just things that you listen to at fun fairs, that there was a more adult side to music. I think Pink Floyd’s music still stands up, actually. Still don’t like The Wall, though. Animals is as far as I got."

"I first heard this record when I was eight or something. I think my mum gave it to me and I listened to it everyday. It replaced The Jackson Five's Dancing Machine that I used to dance to all the time before that. Then I started running home to this Annie album instead. I had so much fun singing along to it and I learnt all the songs. Then I got the leading part in the musical Annie in my school, so it was really the start of my career. I didn't think so much about the lyrics but I knew that my home life was not very happy. I mean, even though I felt very loved by my mother and always had a connection with her, and we have a really similar sense of humour, the song 'Maybe' really connected with me, it was my favourite one to sing. You know: "Maybe my parents could be like this, or maybe they could be like that." My sister always told me I was adopted, which wasn't true but I wished it was because my dad was so mean that I would always be like, "Maybe he's not really my dad". So I really related to that song, imagining actually having a happy childhood. Imagining having parents who were happy and in love and really loved me. I related to that sense of longing but I didn't really know why. I didn't think, "It's because my dad is abusive and drunk"; I didn't think that far ahead, I just sort of intuitively connected to that song."