Tina Turner's most unforgettable tracks

The first single Ike and Tina Turner released together also immediately established who was the real star of this duo. The track begins with Tina’s acapella howl, heralding the arrival of one of the most important voices of the 20th century. With the benefit of hindsight, the whole sound is eerie; the production feels like pure 1960s malt shop pop, while the background singers hum, “You know you love him you can’t understand/how he treats you like he do when he’s such a good man.” As the public came to learn of the tragedy—and, ultimately, the triumph—of her life over the next six decades, “A Fool In Love” feels more biographical than anyone knew. [Drew Gillis]

“River Deep, Mountain High” is a song as seen as it is heard. For all the successful covers the track has spawned—and the fact that she released it alongside then-husband Ike Turner—the immediate image that the first notes bring to mind is Tina, shaggy-haired, unencumbered, and dancing in a swath of sequins. Come for “River Deep, Mountain High”’s rousing, choir-backed build and Turner’s formidable, flexible vocal; stay for songwriting that, top to bottom, captures the soaring, reverent, overwhelming feeling of being head over heels in love. How do you describe a romance so all-encompassing your whole world starts to revolve around it? It’s no easy question, but the way Turner answered it here—with her body, her voice, her spirit, and her characteristic undeniability—is a masterful example of no-holds-barred performance. [Hattie Lindert]

As hard as it is to believe now, there was a time when Tina Turner wasn’t a beloved icon of rock ‘n’ roll. In the early ’80s, many thought her a relic of the past, when she and her abusive husband Ike Turner would plow through blistering renditions of “Proud Mary.” All of these feelings, particularly regarding Ike, feel palpable on 1984’s “What’s Love Got To Do With It,” a somber battle cry from a woman whose legs never stopped working. Trading horns for synth-generated woodwinds, and her pounding rock ’n’ roll energy for a cool soft rock crescendo, Turner entered the ’80s like a stealth bomber, attacking the downbeat groove with defiant vocals. Turner’s powerful voice, deep and raspy, intermingles with the song’s contemporary instrumentation, rising and falling with fierce exhaustion. “What’s Love Got To Do With It” feels like one of the most personal pop songs ever performed, as if it were recorded at the tail end of a blowout fight, encapsulating everything Turner had been through in under four minutes. [Matt Schimkowitz]

It’s hackneyed to say, but “The Best” is one of Tina Turner’s (sorry in advance) best, if not the best tracks. Despite being a Bonnie Tyler cover, Turner’s vocals catapulted it into international fame and a chart-topper. She rendered her deep, electric voice to it with perfection, and it helped that she added a bridge. While the song itself has all the obvious makings of a pop hit, it’s resonated with a global audience who associate it as a Turner original. It’s an easy one to sing along to, and is probably your karaoke song of choice. Whether being used in sports campaigns, song commercials, your car, or on as a “The Best” remains endearing and everlasting, and you have to thank Turner for it. [Saloni Gajjar]

​​Few songs call their shot like “Proud Mary.” A cover of John Fogerty’s Creedence Clearwater Revival hit, Ike & Tina Turner’s rendition begins by letting the listener know what’s up: “We never, ever do anything nice and easy. We always do it nice and rough. We’re going to take the beginning of this song easy, but we’re going to finish rough.” We can’t say we weren’t warned. “Proud Mary” not only feels like it was written for the troubadour queen of rock ’n’ roll, but about her as well. Turner has always been a singer whose voice seemed to encapsulate every hardship and heartbreak she ever experienced, briefly exorcising the demons in a flurry of yells from deep within her soul. At this point, it’s impossible to listen to “Proud Mary” without seeing Turner clutching the mic and marching to the beat. And yet, the song also follows the course of a riverboat, starting down a quiet current before hitting some nastier rapids. Turner’s legendary career did the same, moving through each period with courage and defiance, always rolling forward down the river. [Matt Schimkowitz]

A semi-autobiographical song, “Nutbush City Limits” mythologizes Tina Turner’s upbringing in rural Tennessee. One of the later additions in Ike and Tina’s catalog, the track has a decidedly more ’70s sound, with heavy guitars and whirring synths. It may not be Turner’s most remembered song, but it’s had a long life—it helped a TikTok trend from Australia take over the world . [Drew Gillis]

The original “I Idolize You”—Ike and Tina Turner’s second single—finds Tina Turner’s vocal practically leaping off the vinyl. But it’s the version that appeared on the Phil Specter-produced River Deep, Mountain High that proves definitive. Specter’s Wall Of Sound approach turns the track into a swaggering, strutting declaration of fealty. “I Idolize You” is a blues song, and as much as it’s a statement, it’s also a question: I idolize you. Do you feel the same? [Drew Gillis]

The titular track on her 1984 comeback album, “Private Dancer” was an unlikely hit from the jump. Written by and intended for Dire Straits, Mark Knopfler gave the song up after determining it needed a female singer. In Turner’s hands, the song took on a darker, more sensuous character than the Straits would’ve given it, and like all Turner greats, it sounds like something that came out of her lived experience. While the lounge act atmosphere of “Private Dancer” signals a softer Turner, by the song’s end, she does it nice and rough, belting the songs’ chorus to the heavens while fighting back tears. The song may be about giving one’s self over to another for money, but Turner’s voice maintains control of the song and her autonomy. [Matt Schimkowitz]

Almost certainly the most disturbing genuine hit in Turner’s oeuvre, Tommy’s “Acid Queen” stands as testament to her career-long appreciation for classic rock standards—and not just because she released an album of covers of the same under its name. Penned by Pete Townshend for The Who’s pinball-adjacent musical, the track sees Turner take on a role as an avatar of excess, promising the listener “You won’t be a boy no more” by the time she’s done with you. Cackling, soaring, and strutting, the song saw Turner embrace the hedonism and vitality that powered and underpinned her incredible career—dangerous, sexy, and undeniably powerful as hell. [William Hughes]

About as concentrated a 5-minute dose of musical star power as you could ever hope to receive, Turner’s duet with her old pal Mick Jagger at 1985's LiveAid starts with a turn on The Jacksons’ classic “State Of Shock”—which Jagger previously doubled up on with Michael Jackson himself—before transitioning into the Stones’ own “It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll.” Neither Jagger, nor Turner, are necessarily in best voice here, but the deeply horny, joyful energy they brought to the stage was undeniable, belting out a couple of standards while managing various levels of public nudity, and never seeming to drop a note or miss a beat. Not just stars, but superstars, and having a blast while doing it. [William Hughes]