Otis Redding, a poster, and my mum
A story of a love, family, and concert that never happened
As a child, the music of Otis Redding surrounded me. My mother loved him and when my father wasn’t listening to Northern Soul it’s likely Otis was on the turntable.
Otis was born in 1941 in Dawson, Georgia, USA, but grew up in Macon
.Like many singers around this time, the influence of Little Richard was clear in some of his early work, and he even toured with Richard’s old backing band, The Upsetters, for a while, before releasing a few R & B influenced foot stompers like Shout Bamalama, Getting Hip and She’s Alright (as The Shooters Featuring Otis). I love these uptempo tracks of his, even if they have a different feel from the music he is more famous for.
The influence of Little Richard is clear and She’s Alright has a real dance groove too, demonstrating he not a mere copyist but able to create his own style.
My mum was born in 1952 in Stockport, England and other than a few years in London and Hertfordshire in her late 30s she spent her life in the south Manchester town.
In 1962, Otis released one of his defining singles, These Arms of Mine. Backed by Booker T and the MGs, Otis sets out a beautiful, careful ballad, with his voice as good as it ever will be and delicate instrumentation to accompany. Otis co-wrote the hit record and 2 years later his debut album, Pain in my Heart was released. As well as These Arms of Mine and his tender version of the title track, the album contained and uptempo groove, Security, which showed he had moved away from the Little Richard styled rockers into a deeper soulful sound.
His next album, The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads contains, for me, the definitive version of OV Wright’s That's How Strong My Love Is. It also included Your One and Only Man, a track Kevin Rowland was clearly listening to when he recorded the debut album for Dexy’s Midnight Runners. And having the Stax horns and Booker T and the MGs as your backing band (probably with Isaac Hayes also playing) gives a remarkable tightness to the band on tracks like Mr Pitiful1. My 12 year old mother was hooked from the start.
Otis Blue is one of his most famous albums, mainly stuffed with incredible cover versions including his soaring version of Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come (Cooke was the other constant in my mum’s musical life, and we used to listen to both versions, compare and contrast) and Shake, as well as his reinterpretation of My Girl. Musically similar to the track by The Temptations, but Otis just relaxes his vocals, adding the tiniest of pauses, but adding a different style because of this.
Otis Blue also introduced us to two of his great tracks: Respect became a huge hit for Aretha Franklin (Otis described it as a song “that a girl took away from me, a friend of mine, this girl she just took this song”), His version is still fantastic, despite the power of Aretha’s, although the horns sound constrained throughout. The second was the remarkable I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now) written with Jerry Butler. Steve Cropper’s guitar is picked carefully throughout, adding bluesy lines as Otis pleads with his powerful tenor. The songs build throughout, sad and painful, with the Memphis Horns coming in to help his repeated cries of “I love you”. It’s a breathtaking performance, with its nod to hero Little Richard when he yells, “Good golly, Miss Molly, I love you!”
In 1966 Otis continued to reinterpret great soul tracks, like his version of It’s Growing on The Soul Album. Singing Sam Cooke’s Chain Gang demonstrated his tendency to improvise a little too much, as he leaps around the lyrics, but the album also has the beautiful Cigarettes and Coffee and is a great record.
Later that year Otis and the Stax crew decided to record a version of Try a Little Tenderness, an old standard first recorded in 1932. Otis and the band ripped the song to shreds, turning it around and creating a piece of magic. It starts mournful adn slow, but with that incredible deep south sound of horns, piano, and swirling organ. As the drums click into double time Otis continues to hold back, placing his words carefully as the band circle around him, joining him in the climb until after two and a half minutes the song explodes - the horns keep climbing for the final minute - Otis shouting and calling. Here his yawping improvisation is perfect. Again, many is the time I sat with my mum listening to this track - marvelling at just how strong his control was. It can be argued that he went a bit too wild and pushed it too far on his live performances, but here he produces perfection.
March 1967 saw a delightful album of duets with Carla Thomas (most famous is probably the funky Tramp but my favourite is their version of Bring It On Home To Me).
Not long after was an live album documenting the Stax/Volt tour of Europe. I remember watching clips of this tour on The Tube2 in the mid 80s, enthralled by Otis, as well as Sam and Dave.
When my mum died in 2013, amongst the items I took home was this poster advertising a show in Madison, Wisconsin
The photo shows where it is now, in our bathroom, a permanent memory of my mother and her love for his music. It feels very “sixties” to me - florid lettering and a William Blake-like drawing of a woman (“tenderness”) by William Barr, a student at the the local University. I’ve looked at it often and thought of her, and what the gig it advertises was like.
Except one day, something stuck me. The date of it is clear: 10th December 1967. This was the day Otis died. Otis and members of his band The Bar-Kays, were travelling to Madison when their plane crashed into nearby Lake Monona, killing everyone, including the pilot, expect for trumpet player Ben Cauley. This poster was for a concert that never happened.
When, on 11 December, my mum found out that Otis had died, she wept on the steps of her school. The poster (a reprint - I imagine the originals go for quite a hefty sum) was a typical example of how she liked to remember her musical heroes (we have another of her Otis posters in the house). A month after he died his iconic (Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay was released as a single, posthumously hitting no. 1 in the US and no. 3 in the UK. It pointed to a possible future direction for him, adding a great tinge of country to his soul music. Following his death a few posthumous albums were released, and some of his very best songs were there: Love Man, Hard to Handle, Direct Me and a great version of Look at that Girl (a 1962 b-side from The Fiestas).
Death freezes a person in time, and there are two people here we are talking about. Otis is now forever frozen at 26, and my mum at 60. Both are held deeply in my soul
I have a copy of James Brown’s album I Got the Feeling which includes the song You’ve Got To Change Your Mind, a duet with Bobby Byrd. In it, James sings, “Otis Redding said, "Oh now, they call Mr. Pitiful"“ but my Japanese import CD has “Oh now, they call Mr. Petty-funk” in the lyrics, which is how I always sing it now.
The Tube was the music show on TV when I was young. It had everything, every style, every groove. But was cancelled shortly after presenter Jools Holland described it as a show for “groovy fuckers” in a live daytime trailer.
Hey Kalowski. I really good article this week!!
Tell The Truth is my favorite Otis Redding album, although I only came across it a few years ago. Great tribute to time and the power of music. And moms.