From the moment she emerged slowly — but with regal dignity — onto the Mohegan Sun Arena stage Thursday night, Aretha Franklin was the essence of the Natural Woman.

Dressed in a floor-length fur coat, she made her way to the front and center microphone stand. Then, dropping the luxuriant pelt to the stage in faux disdain, revealing a sleeveless white dress, she broke into a sly grin and demurely said, "I knew you were all waiting for me."

That we were, Aretha, that we were — although, it must be said, in my case, with some trepidation.

Out on what's being billed as her "last year of concerts," Franklin joins the ranks of dozens of other legacy acts who, at a certain point, conduct farewell tours. Given the high number who actually don't retire — you listening, Cher? And I don't trust you, either, Mötley Crüe — or the percentage of these artists who, to put it delicately, no longer "have it," a bit of critical skepticism is understandable.

No worries for the Queen of Soul, though. For 90 minutes, Franklin, superbly backed by her 20-piece orchestra, five backing vocalists and occasional punctuations by her three dancing "Sparklettes," conducted a warm and nostalgic greatest hits recitation. (It's well worth noting that the musical retinue included several members of our own United States Coast Guard Band, including bassoonist Tyler Wilkins, percussionist Christopher Smith, trombonist Sean Nelson, pianist Robert Langslet, trumpeters Bryce Call and Joel Baroody, and saxophonists Greg Case, Geoff Emerick and Cedric Mayfield.)

Two days from her 75th birthday — the Sun celebrated with presentations of cake to fans in the front row during a mid-set break — Franklin noted that she's been a professional entertainer for over half a century. In that time, she's clearly learned every possible nuance and trick. As such, though her stamina and voice are no longer at full strength, Franklin adeptly picked her spots and smoothly let her support musicians and singers do their jobs. When she needed to, Franklin turned on the power, and her Original Diva timbre, like warm honey moving slowly across a dance floor, was a wonder to experience.

As for the material, Franklin stuck mostly to the hits. The demographics of the near-capacity crowd, most of whom were dressed in Sunday church finery, were such that they clearly grew up listening to Franklin's music. In that spirit, the setlist served as a soundtrack to respective mosaics of memory, and any protracted efforts to perform new songs or rarities would have short-circuited the momentum.

Fans heard represented classics like "I Knew You Were Waiting for Me," "I Never Loved a Man the Way I Loved You," "Do Right Woman," "Day Dreaming and I'm Thinking of You," "Chain of Fools," "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," "Something He Can Feel," "It's My Turn," "Freeway of Love" and, of course, "Respect."

It should be noted that Franklin, who in the past has had her prickly moments, was in full charm mode. She told a hilarious anecdote about being dumped from "The Ed Sullivan Show," spoke about her addiction to high heels, marveled over a recalcitrant sustain pedal on her piano, and gave a loving shout-out to record mogul/mentor Clive Davis — who happened to be seated in the fourth row. And if that made you wonder who you had to be to sit in the first three rows, well, as Franklin indicated, they were old friends.

On Thursday night, the Sun Arena was full of about 9,000 of her old friends.