Dreams to remember: Otis Redding, Stax Records, and the transformation of Southern soul

The world of music lost a giant in 1967 when singer Otis Redding was killed when his plane went down in a storm over Lake Monona in Wisconsin. Although only 26 years old at the time of his death, he had already, as prolific music author Ribowsky makes clear, transformed southern soul music by adding to the foundation laid by Little Richard and James Brown a deep emotional component that broadened its popularity to a white audience. His label, Stax, was a rawer alternative to Motown, and Redding a rougher side of soul than the silky Smokey Robinson. Redding's still-surviving widow, Zelma, has been zealously protective of her husband's legacy, but Ribowsky has labored hard to get at the singer's emotional center. Unlike other performers who died far too young, Redding's death did not come out of abuse, and though he suffered, it was a universal human suffering a pain in the heart that, partnered with unerring musical instinct, personal strength, and a little tenderness, he transformed into art. Ribowsky goes into the seamy side of the record business but also the sheer beauty and magic of the sixties soul music that Redding epitomized.--Levine, Mark Copyright 2015 Booklist

With astonishing breadth, respected music historian Ribowsky (The Supremes) deftly weaves Otis Redding's story with the rise and fall of Stax Records. Born the son of a preacher man in Macon, Ga., Redding gravitated toward the blues and R&B at a young age, even while his father warned him that singing such music could come to no good. By the time he turns 17, Otis is singing in clubs, showcasing his canny genius for singing the songs of other and writing his own. Phil Walden, a Mercer University student with a heart for rock and roll and a head for promotion, signs on as Redding's first manager, encouraging him eventually to head to Memphis and Stax, where Stax president Jim Stewart invites a reluctant Redding to lay down a track. From that moment, Redding's career begins to rise and in 1965 he scores a hit with "Respect," a song that illustrated Redding's vulnerability and his fear of losing his marriage. Ribowsky follows Redding from the Fillmore West to Monterey in order to illustrate the deep influence his music had on acts including the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin. In the end, as Ribowsky brilliantly shows, Redding was a man of music, and that music's originality changed the face of rock 'n' roll and soul. (June) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Intellectually complex life of Otis Redding (1941-1967), the doomed King of Soul. It's a supreme irony, at least of a kind, that Redding never lived to see his "Dock of the Bay" hit the mainstream pop charts, as it did just after he died in an icy plane crash. "Redding seemed primed to carry some sort of soul mantle," writes Ribowsky (The Last Cowboy: The Life of Tom Landry, 2013, etc.) of the period when Redding's star was just rising. Though it lasted just a couple of years, that period irrevocably changed the face of American pop, when AM radio played black and white music side by side, Creedence next to James Brown next to the Beatles. Redding was a slightly more countrified progeny of Brown's who, like so many other soul singers, defied expectations and sometimes confounded fans. As Ribowsky remembers, Redding was friendly with a white supremacist sheriff who would later issue shoot-to-kill orders on blacks suspected of looting. Was that Uncle Tom-ism? Redding was so smart that there must have been a method to that particular madness, something that went along with his pointed habit of counting box office receipts after a show, pistol in waistband. Ribowsky serves up some tantalizing what-if scenarios: if Redding had not been in that plane crash, would he have drifted into jazz or soft popor even country? Might he have found common cause with Jimi Hendrix, who seemed so much his opposite at Monterey Pop, Redding sweaty and masterful, Hendrix "soldering generational nihilism with undefined sexual rage," both blowing the collective minds of the audience. Ribowsky considers Redding in the context of racial justice and injustice, the civil rights movement, and, most important, popular music as it spread through a nation hungry for the message brought by the preacher's son who "had precious little time to enjoy the air up there." Excellent from start to finish, demanding a soundtrack of Stax hits as background listening. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The world of music lost a giant in 1967 when singer Otis Redding was killed when his plane went down in a storm over Lake Monona in Wisconsin. Although only 26 years old at the time of his death, he had already, as prolific music author Ribowsky makes clear, transformed southern soul music by adding to the foundation laid by Little Richard and James Brown a deep emotional component that broadened its popularity to a white audience. His label, Stax, was a rawer alternative to Motown, and Redding a rougher side of soul than the silky Smokey Robinson. Redding's still-surviving widow, Zelma, has been zealously protective of her husband's legacy, but Ribowsky has labored hard to get at the singer's emotional center. Unlike other performers who died far too young, Redding's death did not come out of abuse, and though he suffered, it was a universal human suffering—a pain in the heart that, partnered with unerring musical instinct, personal strength, and a little tenderness, he transformed into art. Ribowsky goes into the seamy side of the record business but also the sheer beauty and magic of the sixties soul music that Redding epitomized. Copyright 2014 Booklist Reviews.

With astonishing breadth, respected music historian Ribowsky (The Supremes) deftly weaves Otis Redding's story with the rise and fall of Stax Records. Born the son of a preacher man in Macon, Ga., Redding gravitated toward the blues and R&B at a young age, even while his father warned him that singing such music could come to no good. By the time he turns 17, Otis is singing in clubs, showcasing his canny genius for singing the songs of other and writing his own. Phil Walden, a Mercer University student with a heart for rock and roll and a head for promotion, signs on as Redding's first manager, encouraging him eventually to head to Memphis and Stax, where Stax president Jim Stewart invites a reluctant Redding to lay down a track. From that moment, Redding's career begins to rise and in 1965 he scores a hit with "Respect," a song that illustrated Redding's vulnerability and his fear of losing his marriage. Ribowsky follows Redding from the Fillmore West to Monterey in order to illustrate the deep influence his music had on acts including the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin. In the end, as Ribowsky brilliantly shows, Redding was a man of music, and that music's originality changed the face of rock 'n' roll and soul. (June)