It’s May 1986 in Detroit. The air is probably thick with that specific Michigan humidity, but inside United Sound Systems, the vibe is pure electricity. George Michael—just twenty-four years old and freshly detached from the neon-colored pop bubble of Wham!—is standing in a room with Aretha Franklin.
He’s terrified. Like, genuinely "shit-scared," as he later put it.
You’ve got to understand the power dynamic here. Aretha was already the undisputed Queen of Soul. George was the kid with the "Choose Life" t-shirt trying to prove he wasn't just another pretty face on MTV. When they finally got together to record Aretha Franklin with George Michael on the smash hit "I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)," it wasn't just a business deal orchestrated by Clive Davis. It was a collision of two completely different musical eras that somehow, against all odds, clicked perfectly.
The Ribs, the Nerves, and the Detroit Studio
Most people think these big superstar duets are phoned in. They assume the singers are in different time zones, mailing in their vocals through digital wires. Not this time. George Michael actually flew to Detroit because he wanted to be in the same room as his idol.
He arrived with the kind of reverence you only see from a true fan. Aretha, being Aretha, kept it real. There’s a legendary story that George often told about the session: Aretha showed up with a huge container of baby back ribs. She wasn't just eating; she was "belting out" her vocals between bites. George watched in awe as she tossed the finished bones into a trash can from across the room with pinpoint accuracy.
Honestly, that’s the most Aretha thing ever.
Why the Pairing Almost Didn't Happen
It’s easy to forget that this wasn’t the original plan. Clive Davis, the mastermind at Arista Records, was hunting for a hit to keep Aretha's momentum going after Who’s Zoomin’ Who. He’d initially asked George to write and produce something for her back in 1984. George said no.
Why? Because he felt "unworthy."
He thought it was "ludicrous" to imagine himself telling Aretha Franklin how to sing. It took two more years and a massive boost in his own confidence before he felt ready to stand eye-to-eye with her. Even then, when they were recording the ad-libs, they stood on opposite sides of the same microphone, just "belting it out." George kept his vocals simple. He knew he couldn't out-soul the Queen, so he played the perfect foil.
Breaking Down "I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)"
The song itself was written by Simon Climie and Dennis Morgan. It wasn't originally a duet. It was just a great track that needed the right voice—or in this case, two of them.
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Musically, it’s a time capsule of 1987. You’ve got:
- Narada Michael Walden’s polished, high-energy production.
- Randy Jackson (yes, the American Idol Randy) on a driving bass line.
- Those bright, shimmering synthesizers played by Walter Afanasieff.
It’s a "gospel-pop" anthem. The lyrics use all the classic tropes—mountains, valleys, rivers—but the chemistry between Aretha and George makes those clichés feel earned. When Aretha drops that tender, maternal "I know you did" in response to George’s line about having a dream, it’s one of the most human moments in 80s pop.
The Chart Conquest
When the song dropped in January 1987, it exploded. It wasn't just a "nice" collaboration; it was a juggernaut.
- It hit Number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100.
- It was Aretha’s first chart-topper since "Respect" in 1967. Think about that—a twenty-year gap.
- It gave George his third consecutive UK Number 1.
- It bagged them a Grammy for Best R&B Performance by a Duo or Group.
For Aretha, it was a reminder to the world that she could dominate any decade she wanted. For George, it was the ultimate "seal of approval." If the Queen of Soul thought he was good enough to share a mic with, the critics couldn't touch him.
The Music Video and the "No Heat" Myth
If you watch the music video today, it looks a bit... 80s. Directed by Andy Morahan, it features a lot of shots of them looking at each other through screens before finally coming together. Some critics at the time claimed there was "no heat" or interplay between them.
They were wrong.
If you look closely at the footage of them together on stage or in the studio clips, there’s a genuine warmth. Aretha described George as "friendly, personable, and easy to talk to." She liked that he was "calling the shots" in the studio despite being so much younger. There was a mutual respect there that transcended the marketing.
Why This Duo Still Matters
In a world of "algorithm-friendly" collaborations, Aretha Franklin with George Michael stands out because it felt earned. It wasn't a rapper and a pop star trying to cross-pollinate fanbases for a weekend. It was two generational talents proving that soul music doesn't have a specific look or a single home.
The song hasn't aged the way some 80s tracks have. Sure, the drums are big and the synths are loud, but those two voices are timeless. When George Michael passed away in 2016, Aretha was one of the first to speak out about his "unique sound." And when Aretha passed in 2018, the song saw a massive resurgence in play—a final tribute to a moment when the Queen and the Prince of Pop found their perfect match.
To truly appreciate the legacy of this track, listen to the 12-inch extended remix. It lets the vocals breathe and gives you a better sense of the sheer power they were throwing at the tape. You can also track down the footage from George Michael's 1988 Detroit show where Aretha came out as a surprise guest; the energy in that room was something you just can't manufacture in a boardroom.
Actionable Insights for the Music Fan:
- Listen to the Stem Tracks: If you can find the isolated vocal tracks for this song, do it. Hearing Aretha’s raw ad-libs without the 80s production reveals the technical mastery of her performance.
- Compare the Eras: Listen to Aretha's I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You and then George Michael’s Faith. This duet is the bridge between those two seemingly disparate worlds.
- Check the Songwriters: Look up Simon Climie’s other work (like Climie Fisher). You'll see how he tailored this specific track to fit the "power duet" mold that dominated the late 80s.