I was born in 1957, and although my parents had many albums by Irish artists, music may as well have not existed for me until 1963, when the Beatles hit the airwaves. At first, I, a first-grader, resisted because "girls liked them." But after half a dozen hits or so, I knew my obstinacy was getting ridiculous. I became a huge fan.
So, my first pleasurable exposure to music was the f*cking BEATLES. Then the British invasion and the American response to it. And so on. The way I'd describe the era to young people was "you couldn't put on the radio without hearing yet another great song."
Perfect right? Well...
One less-than-perfect aspect was my disdain for almost any other kind of music. Some of it was generational - a defensive (as in "a good offense") reaction to adults' constant criticism of the music I liked. So I'd deride any music performed in a black and white movie, or played by people with short hair or suits.
I also found oldies pathetic (not enough guitars), Motown had too much brass, and R&B had too much rhythm and not enough melody. Not to worry. I had plenty of "my music" to get me through the decade.
I read somewhere that after MLK was assassinated, some African American artists gave much less of a f*ck about appealing to white audiences, or, for that matter, playing with white musicians. The resulting music brimmed with pride, confidence, and rhythm. But it rubbed me the wrong way. White Irish Catholic that I am/was, I interpreted it as egotism. Around that time, I vaguely recall seeing a documentary featuring Aretha Franklin and James Brown, showing them rousing their audiences into a frenzy. The music was as un-Beatles-like as I could imagine, and I stared at the TV screen uncomprehendingly.
It only got worse in the seventies. Funk, glam rock, disco, etc. All worthless! All fads! All about clothing and spectacle (not to mention makeup), and not about the music like my favorite Allman Brothers and Grateful Dead. Some artists used humor, advocated for having a good time and, shudder, dancing, which I w/could not do. WIC that I am/was, I found it all very hedonistic. Music, after all, was meant to be serious!
At the end of the seventies, a lot of "best of the decade" assessments began to appear, and reading them hammered home how much music I didn't hear. And if I was honest with myself, I didn't want to hear. Something had to change.
I'm not sure what got me to lighten up a little. (It's a lifetime project.) Was it hearing the Sex Pistols and Ramones albums playing in the Brooklyn College Student Center? Was it just vanity and wanting to be different? For whatever reason, I began to cautiously explore.
And honestly, not all of those efforts resulted in epiphanies. Sometimes, it would just be puzzlement. Change takes time. But there was enough good stuff to encourage me to keep going.
One artist was Otis Redding. I picked up the double-LP The Best of Otis Redding, which I dutifully played a few times but wouldn't fully appreciate for decades.
Years passed. Vinyl had long been relegated to my basement, along with the turntable. I'd occasionally dip into this album. which sounded better and better.
Then, this year, I noticed Amazon (f*ck you, Jeff, btw) offered a 5-pack of Redding's first five albums for a reasonable price. It had been, oh, forty years, so I felt almost ready and picked it up this past August.
It covers the same ground, more or less, as the Best-Of, although in more detail, of course. Alas, it stops just short of "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay".
Not to worry.
Otis Redding: Original Album Series
Like many other sixties-era albums, these records are flawed by a hesitation to go all-out. Record companies still insisted on including covers of other artists' hits to broaden their appeal as much as possible. And here, the segues from brilliant original to lame cover can be jarring. But it gets better as he goes long by making them his own.
Being an Album Guy, I value consistency more than I should. If I went by Total Joy Provided (TJP?), each of these records would be at least an A-minus:
- Pain in My Heart (1964): The covers are fine ("Stand by Me") if inessential. Otis plays it too safe, largely keeping their arrangements intact. Typical first album hesitation. "Louie Louie" is definitely the weirdest. Otis may be performing a public service (or not) by making the lyrics somewhat comprehensible. He sings the hell out of it, though. "You Send Me" has some nice vocal turns, but it's not unique enough to matter. "Lucille" doesn't even have that. But it's the very first song - the title track - that gets it exactly right. Other classics and near classics include "Something is Worrying Me, "These Arms of Mine", "I Need Love", and "That's What My Heart Needs", which may be the one that contains the seeds of his greatness. B+
- The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads (1965): Right off the bat, the band sounds a bit more muscular. Better production, maybe? Again, the opener - "That's How Strong My Love Is" rules. There are several, somewhat lesser songs like it, too. And as the title says, it's mostly ballads, so the pacing gets a bit sluggish. He does well with Chuck Willis' "It's Too Late", later covered nicely by Derek and the Dominoes(!), among many others. "Your One and Only Man" is a great discovery. Fewer classics here, but no bad covers. A-
- Otis Blue: Otis Sings Soul (1965): Because Sam Cooke - Redding's idol - passed away the prior December, three of his songs are covered here. Two - "Shake and "A Change Is Gonna Come" are Redding classics. "Wonderful World" is less so. And the basically unchanged Four Tops' "My Girl", less even than that. So it's a little short on originals. A shame since they're all great, like "Ole Man Trouble" and "I've Been Loving You Too Long". I'd include"Respect" for the drums alone, but AF took that into the stratosphere. But halfway through, the covers stop the momentum. Although "Rock Me" and "Satisfaction" are fine. Excellent, but with two annoying covers. B+
- The Soul Album (1966): Highlights include the wonderful "Cigarettes and Coffee", "Good To Me", and "I've Been Loving You Too Long". Again, fewer highs than Otis Blue, but more consistent. No bad covers, and he makes "Chain Gang" his own. A-
- Complete and Unbelievable: Dictionary of Soul (1966): The songs are strong, and most of the covers are obscure enough to blend right in. The band is in full command. Classics include "Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa (Sad Song)", "Lover's Prayer", and "Try a Little Tenderness", which - via an imaginative arrangement - shows off his power, grittiness, and way with a melody. Perhaps his greatest performance. The live version below from Monterey Pop is even better. In terms of consistency, this one's the best of the five. A-
There would be a couple more albums after these. His appearance at Monterey Pop greatly broadened his audience. The future seemed bright and clear, but it was not to be. His plane went down on the way to a show, and this future superstar-to-be was instead dead at 26.
The following month, "Dock of the Bay" was released. And the rest is, well, our own rather f*cked up history.
So you can dig deep like me, or, assuming you're not guilt-ridden due to your original lack of appreciation, grab a Best Of. Either way, you'll have beaten me by about forty years.
