In Nina Simone’s hands, songs became events. Whether she was stealing away standards that had been around for decades, or wielding her pen against the pain of racism and intolerance of postwar America, Simone brought new depth to the music she touched. Her well-honed classical and jazz chops helped, of course, but her greatest asset was her passion. She believed fervently in her own pulpit power and made it undeniable to her listeners. As Robert Glasper told us recently, “She was like news to the jazz world.”
As part of our feature Nina Simone: Her Art and Life in 33 Songs, we talked to several of her biggest fans on their favorite songs that define the legend—and, in some cases, have helped them redefine themselves.
Maxwell
It makes me feel stupid about my own career when I look at Nina Simone. I just think, Am I doing enough? Could I have done more?
Her cover of “Strange Fruit” is so dark and unbelievably poetic. Most times, as a singer and a songwriter, you're pushing for perfection. You're pushing for textbook vocal representation of something. But with her, you could feel the pain. It was palpable. You could smell the stench of the problem. You could feel the heartache. Billie Holiday is so up there, in terms of talent, that when you hear Nina’s version you think, Wow, I didn't think it could be so much more painful to hear this song.
Alynda Lee Segarra (Hurray for the Riff Raff)
Her singing “Just Like a Woman” is justice for all womankind. I remember when I first heard it by Dylan; it really put me off and I was just like, This is gross, dude. What are you talking about, if I break like a little girl? And then when Nina sings, it you're like, Wow, this is about being a woman. It's about being tender and vulnerable, and also about being strong. It's like being a child and an adult at the same time. It's about life.
“To Love Somebody” also stands out. That song kills me. I've seen a lot of really incredible performances of it and there's one that I really love where she's like, “I want to do the last verse again, just for myself,” and she sings it again. As somebody who, in my younger years, definitely struggled in a lot of really bad, fucked-up relationships with abusive people, when I hear that version, I know I'm better than these situations that I was in. I know that I don't deserve this, and yet here I am, and there's confusion and loneliness. There's also this weight where you're like, Obviously this woman loves very intensely.
Esperanza Spalding
I just feel kind of devastated by “Lilac Wine.” I should be able to unpack that word further, but I don't know how, other than it's a song that you enjoy sobbing to. I'd put it on and I just had to lie down and sigh heavily and cry, and it was a joy to do. I've never experienced that from a piece of popular music before.
That's why you have to give in an extreme way, because for all the artists that were her contemporaries, she's the one that sticks to your bones. The generosity of her musicianship was so complete that when I hear it, I feel like she left it for me. It's like she cared enough about what she was doing, and the people she was doing it for, that she didn't hold back anything. She told you the truth and she told you the compliment and she told you what she thinks about it and she told you her limitation and she told you her dream that she couldn't achieve yet.
Chan Marshall (Cat Power)
There’s an outstanding performance of “Ain’t Got No” / “I Got Life” that I feel like really explains a lot from that era of Nina’s life, which I discovered when I was around 38 and it just blew my mind. She's very comfortable being a voice for people, she's empowered. she's very calm and dignified. It’s like she’s outside of the lane of the performer and stepping into the lane of the consciousness. She’s maintaining the song structure but peering out into the audience as a spiritual, conscious being. It’s as if she's a doctor to the audience, and everyone can take their own prescription personally.
Lætitia Tamko (Vagabon)
She had an ability to be vulnerable yet incredibly strong, and I think that's a hard thing to nail, because strength can be shown in various different ways. I watch her live videos a lot. They're actually my preferred way of listening to her. There is one video of her singing “Backlash Blues” that’s just insane. She opens it up by speaking to the crowd and saying, "I haven't seen you in a long time. I haven't seen you since ’68, but today I'm going to sing some songs for you and then I'm going to leave." It's her saying, I'm going to give you myself and then that'll be it. And it grips you; she’s telling you that you're watching something special, and you are.
[starts around the 11-minute mark]
Robert Glasper
“Four Women” is my favorite of her original songs. I also love hearing her cover “I Think It's Going to Rain Today”—her piano playing and vibe are amazing. It literally brings me to tears when I hear it. It's also so hip-hop; I'm surprised no one has sampled the end of that song yet. She gives me so much of the essence of hip-hop in her music, this song in particular. It's just beautiful.
Corinne Bailey Rae
She's definitely been an influence in terms of modeling strength. She was the only musician I could listen to after my first husband died in 2008. Questlove gave me a memory stick with a video of her performance at the Montreux Jazz Festival, and I watched it over and over. One of the songs she covers is “Feelings” by the Carpenters. She really gets the song, really understands it. She's saying, “All we really have is feelings, all we really have is our sensations and, if we suppress them or don't allow them to come through, then it's like we're not alive.”