A Suburban Girl’s Guide To Music That Doesn’t Suck 9.20.08: Try A Little Tenderness

Posted by Vanessa Willoughby on 09.20.2008

Legends never die.

Hello everyone! Sorry for the absence. But, as you might have read in Rants & Raves, I moved at the beginning of the month and had to endure a real horror show. Anyway, I'm back. Sorry that this column is a bit shorter than the normal, but I'm just getting back into the swing of things.

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There're few things in this world that you can actually rely on. For me, one of those things is Otis Redding. Now, I know some of you hate when I admit that the reason behind my initial interest stemmed from watching a movie, especially if said movie happens to not spawn from the genius minds of people like Francis Ford Coppola, Kubrick or Paul Thomas Anderson. But you know what, I'm just gonna lay it all out there.

The first time I heard Otis Redding, I mean really stopped and took notice, was when I watched Pretty in Pink. Duckie (Jon Cryer) was attempting to win the affections of his best friend, Andie (the uber-cool 80s icon Molly Ringwald). He frequently stalks Andie at the record store where she works. One day, it just so happens that the store is playing "Try A Little Tenderness." Pompadour hair and all, Duckie slides through the door like the floor's covered in grease and proceeds to perform the most awesome rendition of Otis ever captured on film. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But you know what, after seeing that display of impromptu karaoke, I'm still wondering why Andie went off with Blaine.

Anyway, Duckie aside, not only did I become a certified John Hughes fan, but thanks to that scene, I was captivated by the music of Otis Redding. Prior to Pretty In Pink, I'd heard of Redding, but I'd never taken the time to actually listen to his music. He was just another one of those singers my Dad used to listen to, one of those people who popped up on the oldies station he loved. Of course, as I grew older, my tastes began to broaden and I yearned for something other than the usual, something other than the Top 20 monotony of the local radio station. If Aretha Franklin is the Queen of Soul, then I'd have to say that Otis is (with the exception of James Brown, naturally!) the reigning King.

Yes, there's also the likes of Al Green and Marvin Gaye to consider. But for me, it's Otis. His voice isn't just soulful, it's got layers. It contains layers and layers that encompass the history of the blues, the compassion and enlightenment of gospel, the modernity of rock and roll. The core of his music and his vocals appealed to fans and artists across the board, including The Rolling Stones. Redding has the charisma of a rock star, without the arrogance or pretentious entitlement. He sings and you are immediately sucked in, submerged in the fluidity of the moment, of the magic of his powerful voice. His set at the Monterey Pop Festival is just as compelling as Janis or Hendrix. Monterey was the first time that soul star Otis Redding performed in front of a large and predominantly white audience in his home country. Redding, backed in his performance by Booker T. & The MG's, was included on the bill through the efforts of promoter Jerry Wexler, who saw the festival as an opportunity to advance Redding's career. Redding's show included his version of "Respect" (which by this time had become an international hit as recorded by Aretha Franklin). Although the festival finally gave Redding mainstream attention, it would be one of his last major performances.

I suppose to babble on and on about Otis would just be the rephrasing of praise that's already been said. But it's such a lovely feeling to discover quality music when for the past few years, you've been unconsciously blocking out everything that isn't mass-produced and aimed at the preteen bracket. I'm always surprised, and truth be told, a bit horrified when I meet someone who treats music simply as background noise, nothing more, nothing less.

Essentially, music is an extension of humanity, the unspoken words decaying between two lovers, the air you breathe, the familiarity and camaraderie between two friends. If it were possible, I would set all the most important moments of my life to the appropriate music. A literal soundtrack to my life. Otis is a force to be reckoned with and his physical stature only enhances this. Listen to "Love Man" if you need a hands-on, or rather an auditory example. The horn section is a living, breathing entity of its own as the Big O wails.

And although he passed away in 1967, he still lives on.