FEATURE:
Respect
Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul at Sixty
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AN album that I hope…
IN THIS PHOTO: Otis Redding in 1966/PHOTO CREDIT: Cyrus Andrews/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images
gets some new interest and discussion around its anniversary. On 15th September, 1965, Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul was released. It was the third studio album from the legend. Perhaps Otis Redding’s finest album. Even though the album is mainly cover versions, Redding puts his own stamp on the songs. Infusing them with such power, soulfulness and nuance. You come back to these tracks time and time again and get new things. New emotions and feelings. Such a stunning collection of performances from someone that we lost far too soon. Otis Redding did write three of the album’s tracks – including Ole Man Trouble and Respect. Though many feel the latter was claimed by Aretha Franklin, in terms of the definitive version, it was Otis Redding who wrote it. A main reason why Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul is so immediate is the fact most of the songs were recorded so quickly. It is staggering to think that the album was recorded in the space of twenty-four hours. Between 9th and 10th July, 1965, this timeless and perfect album was laid down. Like capturing a concert. If it was overthought or there was this long recording process, then I don’t feel the songs would affect and resonate. Capturing the purity and rawness of the songs, Redding was backed by the Stax house band, Booker T. & the M.G.'s A huge crossover success, Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul sold more than 250,000 copies. I am going to feature some articles about this masterpiece. One that, sixty years later, has lost none of its impact. I have been listening to many of these songs since I was a child and I cannot fathom where that voice came from! There are other brilliant and mind-blowing singers – Aretha Franklin and Sam Cooke (who wrote three of the songs that appear on Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul) – who elicit emotions. However, there are none that leave the impression that Otis Redding does!
I want to start things off with Pitchfork’s review of 2008. It provides some context in terms of how Otis Redding was not this especially well-known artist before he recorded Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul. It is also unfortunate how the album cover features the face of a white woman and not Redding. There are these undertones that are unsettling and angering. As much as anything, this masterpiece album did not feature the face of its creator on the cover. Making him anonymous or reducing him to his voice:
“On July 8, 1965, Otis Redding was a young soul singer of modest renown, less than three months removed from releasing his first Top 10 r&b hit single. By July 10, he had become something else entirely: It took only 24 hours to lay down 10 of the 11 songs that would make up Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul, arguably the 1960s' greatest studio-recorded soul LP. (The only track not recorded at that time was the #2 hit, "I've Been Loving You Too Long".) Friends and associates had noticed Redding's growing confidence as a singer, and once Otis Blue hit shelves it was clear he was poised enough to pick up the mantle of the recently slain legend Sam Cooke, up to that point the greatest soul singer in America. He was also prepared to take on the Temptations and the Rolling Stones and B.B.King on their own turf; the only way to top him would be to give one of his original compositions to Aretha Franklin ("Respect"). In the simplest terms: It's a hell of a record, the crowning achievement of a man who could sound pained and celebratory and tender and gritty and proud all at once, with a voice that everyone from John Fogerty to Swamp Dogg to Cee-lo owes a debt to.
Rhino's 2xCD Collector's Edition of Otis Blue makes a good case for this 24-hour labor of love as a wide-reaching document that just gets better with context. A set this packed-- including rarities, alternate mixes, live versions of the album tracks, and the original LP in both mono and stereo-- could easily feel sprawling and overstuffed, but it does a great job illuminating every tweaked nuance and permutation that Redding and his top-notch band could come up with during the course of a song's lifetime. Considering the personnel involved in the original LP-- Booker T. & the M.G.'s guitarist Steve Cropper, bassist Donald "Duck" Dunn, and drummer Al Jackson Jr.; keyboardist Isaac Hayes; a horn section (saxophonists Floyd Newman and Andrew Love, trumpet players Wayne Jackson and Gene Miller) filled with members of the Mar-Keys and the Memphis Horns-- it's a blessing to hear them both unified in mono and isolated in stereo. (Any concerns of redundancy can be allayed thusly: the mono version's for your speakers; stereo's for your headphones.
You need them both.) And the singer holding it together is at the top of his game. There's the possibility that the death of Cooke not only inspired Redding to record three of his idol's most well-known songs, but spurred him to step up and fill an aching void in popular music, and it's not blasphemous to suggest that Otis measures up. His version of "Wonderful World" matches the original's tone of winsome modesty and gives it a rougher edge, and his juke-joint version of "Shake" is a hard-swinging, full-throated 2:40 of precision ferocity with a force that would flat-out explode during his live sets. But "Change Gonna Come", his take on Cooke's civil rights anthem "A Change Is Gonna Come", is the real gem of the three: the moment he sings "I was born by the river," you can tell he knows what he's been entrusted with, and he handles it superbly with a mix of raspy frustration and wounded gentleness that's part trained virtuosity and part raw emotion.
Like most other albums of the time, there's no shortage of covers, most of which fall under the milieu of Southern rhythm & blues: a sweltering take on B.B. King's "Rock Me Baby", with some of the best-timed "heh" asides this side of James Brown; a stomping version of Solomon Burke's "Down in the Valley" that ratchets up both the gospel beatitude and the secular lust; the staggering reworking of William Bell's "You Don't Miss Your Water" that has one of the most devastating pleading-man lead vocals in the entire Stax catalog. But there's also two other covers that really show what Redding could do in a different sort of pop context. Of all the versions of "My Girl" that sprang up in the wake of the Tempations' career-making December 1964 release, Otis' is especially inspired, twisting its familiar melodies against it and interjecting a few unexpected pauses and shifted inflections; the way he delivers its once-familiar chorus just a little off-balance can deke you right out of your socks. (Much of Redding's popularity in the UK hinged on this track, which was released in England by Atlantic to capitalize on the fact that it was one of the few places the Temptations' version hadn't caught on.)
And his transformative take on "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction", growling and sneering and wailing against a 90-mph backbeat sounds like even more of an impressive accomplishment whenyou take into account the fact that he hadn't even heard the Rolling Stones' original version at the time he recorded the song. He simply went off the lyrics and embellished them where he saw fit-- underscoring the "fashion" in "satisfaction" or throwing in new verses that turned Mick and Keith's restlessness into sheer uncontrollability ("I keep on runnin' round in my sleep/ I keep on messin' up any beat").
The covers are supplemented on this collection by four originals, two of which-- the mournfully harried "Ole Man Trouble" and the Jerry Butler-co-written "I've Been Loving You Too Long" with its priceless ending crescendo of desperation-- are evidence enough that he wasn't just a flashy interpreter. Another is "I'm Depending on You", the B-side to "I've Been Loving You Too Long", and it's a simple, perfectly fine vehicle for him to turn unremarkable lyrics into remarkable vocalizations. The other one, of course, is "Respect"-- the song that Redding liked to joke was "stolen" from him by Aretha Franklin. It's true, in a sense-- Franklin claimed ownership of the song the moment she recorded it-- but it would be doing Redding a great disservice to consider his original an afterthought. Even without the brassy attitude and feminist overtones in Franklin's iconic rendition, Redding's performance is singular enough to avoid being canceled out. His band's performance isn't as much of a first-round-knockout as the one by the team Jerry Wexler and Arif Mardin assembled for the Queen of Soul (no slight-- what performance is?), but had it never been covered, Redding's version would be more vividly remembered as one of his greatest moments as a singer and a songwriter: it's no small feat to take the situation of a man asking for respect from a woman and deliver it while sounding more like a romantic diplomat than a chauvinist asshole!”.
Otis Redding’s greatest gift as a singer is how he could convey gritty, romantic, tender and pained. Such expressive wonder! Anyone who has not heard of Otis Redding, I would suggest listening to this album. They look at the complexities of the album. In terms of how some songs seem stuck in time. Some do not fit and others do. Other transcend their time. Dig! make that argument in their retrospective of 2023. A closer look at Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul:
“Choosing to open his new album with this slow wail, rather than the hit singles Respect or My Girl, was an audacious move. Indisputably one of the best soul singers of all time, Redding sometimes referred to himself as a blues singer, which explains the album’s two-part title: Otis Blue, because he felt bluesy; Otis Redding Sings Soul, so fans knew what they were getting.
The mournful I’ve Been Loving You Too Long, co-written in a hotel room in Buffalo, New York, with the mighty Chicago soul man Jerry Butler when they crossed paths on the road, was one of Redding’s greatest performances: listen to those amazing bent notes. Butler made his own version in 1968; The Rolling Stones played it live; Chris Farlowe, Sandy Posey and Dionne Warwick were among those who recorded it. But Redding posted the definitive cut on Otis Blue, and it still stands as one of the best Otis Redding songs of all time.
Speaking of the Stones… It wasn’t unusual for soul stars to adapt current hits, but to cover a song so strongly associated with one contemporary act was a little unlikely. Perhaps cutting (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction was payback for the number of songs the Britrock legends had copped from Redding and his labelmates. It had been Steve Cropper’s idea, and the backing track was ready when Redding came in to voice it. Unusually for a guitar player, Cropper had suggested shifting the tune’s fuzzbox riff to horns. Curiously, Keith Richards had initially envisaged that riff for horns. Even more curiously, Redding played Satisfaction at a show with the Stones in the wings. Offstage, Richards commented on the performance, and Redding told him it was a tune he’d just written. Perhaps he was winding the guitarist up. In a further connection, Otis Blue also featured a blues tune the Stones played live, BB King’s Rock Me Baby, which Redding emotes with lustful urgency.
My Girl, the delicate if passionate reworking of Smokey Robinson and Ronald White’s hit for The Temptations, formed part of Stax’s ongoing battle with its rivals up north in Detroit: Motown. So you think you’re soulful up there, huh? Well, out-soul this. Redding also tackles Down In The Valley, an ersatz, almost cheesy folk tune in Solomon Burke’s version, but played straight by Redding, like he really was marching down that valley: he was a country boy while Burke was a Philly city slicker.
The heart of Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul is three Sam Cooke songs. This soul pioneer had been shot dead in December 1964, and Redding considered cutting a tribute album to him. Here he serves up the dance tune Shake, the slightest track on the record, but still full of Memphis goodness. Perhaps Redding’s experience as someone who left school at 15 to help feed his family by grafting as a fuel-pump attendant and well-digger made his version of Wonderful World convincing. And Cooke’s conscious anthem A Change Is Gonna Come, astonishingly poignant coming from a Georgia singer, brings Redding’s acute awareness of Black America’s situation into sharp focus. You can feel the struggle.
Otis Blue closes with a touching cut of Stax labelmate William Bell’s You Don’t Miss Your Water, a learned-the-hard-way ballad that finishes with the singer’s dilemma unresolved, leaving listeners thirsty for more. Redding was at a peak, but we will never know just how much higher he could have climbed; he never lived to see one of his records at No.1, though the posthumous (Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay, did make it. Losing someone you love is an appalling loss, but at least Redding left behind the best of him in Otis Blue. For all time”.
I am going to end with Albumism. Writing in 2020 around the fifty-fifth anniversary of Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul, there are going to be sections that are repeated from earlier. However, it is important to see these features and learn this information. It adds layers and clarity to this remarkable album. One that I think grows in stature each year. I do not think the songs are of their time or cannot connect today. Even if we do not have singers like Otis Redding today, you can hear and feel the influence on the artists who were moved by albums like Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul:
“Isaac Hayes (who would eventually take Redding’s place as the tent-pole artist for the label) said (again, in Gordon’s excellent book) that Stax was “raw, very honest music that represented the common man—the common black man.” It was the countrified, down-home cousin to Motown’s slick, urbane, more pop-oriented machine, and Redding’s voice, along with the house bands, helped forge this identity as a funkier, down-to-earth entity. Both Redding’s and Stax’s identities and fortunes became intertwined—they were symbiotically linked.
The album’s timing was everything too. Just six months previously, Sam Cooke had been killed in Los Angeles, leaving a gap in the hearts and minds of soul music fans. Otis was wise enough to record three Cooke songs for Otis Blue in his own inimitable (and vastly different) style. By doing so he presented himself both as an acolyte of the late, great singer but also as the torchbearer who could carry soul music forward.
As well as the covers of songs by other artists, the album also contains original material penned by him—including the most famous song penned by him, one of the most recognized and loved songs of the 20th Century. His original version of “Respect” moves at a much brisker pace courtesy of Al Jackson’s surging, G-Force drums—it would be somewhat ridiculous to suggest that Redding’s version is better than Aretha Franklin’s epoch-defining version, but it stands as testament to Redding’s increasingly brilliant pen.
The choice of songs and artists to cover is a very interesting point—he manages to tip his hat to both the architects of soul music but also to those other strands of Black music that contributed to its development. It is almost as if he is providing a summation of the ingredients of soul music. By taking these ingredients and adding his own unique voice to them he further melds them together and reinforces what constitutes soul music.
Solomon Burke’s “Down In The Valley” is a case in point. By choosing another of those rock & roll originators, Redding places himself firmly in the tradition of black music. But whereas it takes Burke a minute or two to showcase the more soulful, gritty edge to his voice, Redding lets it go from note one. His voice is already at the point of emotional breakdown and it doesn’t let up. It is, as Booker T Jones said, as if he wrings emotion from every single syllable. He treats each of them as precious and none are wasted on anything less than his best.
Anyone who can take a B.B. King song and make it their own has to be special and nowhere is it truer than with Redding’s cover of “Rock Me Baby.” The combination of Cropper’s sharp yet restrained guitar and Redding’s scandalously indecent sexual roar is perfection—Redding is both the voice of dominant masculinity and a soulful plea to a partner. Once again, by choosing a blues man’s tune, he casts himself as the past, present and future all in one moment.
Of the Sam Cooke covers, one in particular stands out as one of my favorite covers of all time. “A Change Is Gonna Come” is an awe-inspiring song at the best of times, capable of sending shivers down the spine, but here Redding ekes every single shred of pain, joy and hope from the lyric. When he sings the opening lines (having been ushered in majestically by the horns) “I was born by the river / In this little old tent / Oh and just like the river, I’ve been running ever since,” it is almost too much to bear. The ripped emotion in his voice makes it both utterly believable and soul crushingly sad—it is one of my favorite moments in recorded music and guarantees that the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention”.
On 15th September, it will be sixty years since Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul was released. I wanted to spend some time with the album, as it is one that I really love! However, it is more important than that. This is what BBC said in 2007 in their review: “It's tempting to look for some faults here just for the sake of balance. But try as one might, they fail to present themselves, as the rawness of the playing, the sprightly rhythms of the upbeat tracks, and the grainy grief of Redding's voice reach in to your very core. A gutsy, visceral affair that leaves you thinking that, with the power of music, anything is possible; Otis Blue was, and remains, his definitive statement”. It is hard to argue with that. Since his sad passing in 1967, the music world has witnessed…
NOBODY like him.