The "Complete and Unbelievable: The Otis Redding Dictionary of Soul" album, to give it it's full title, came out in the UK in January 1967. By that time, we had already seen the first album from Cream and Jimi's "Hey Joe" had been released and been a hit. The trendies who had largely "discovered" soul during the British r'n'b boom, were moving elsewhere. Burke was already a blast from the past. Pickett was no longer selling. Soul, at least in its Atlantic/Stax incarnation was waning in popularity. At the same time, Otis Redding was in danger of becoming a parody of himself (which had arguably already happened to Ray Charles). All the rhythmic punctuation and mannerisms he used, the "my-my-my's", the "gotta-gotta's", etc. were at risk of over-exposure. Stax had tried some variation in the material in the "Soul Album", 6 months earlier, but with only limited success. So what did they do? They came out with this one.
When I first set eyes on it (way back then) my immediate reaction was that they were aiming at a less sophisticated audience and that the content was likely to suffer accordingly. I should explain for those who haven't seen the original vinyl album, that the Dictionary was accompanied by a (tongue in cheek?) Glossary of terms on the flip side! I couldn't have been more wrong. I suspect the sleeve design was a deliberate, "let's take the mickey out of ourselves" effort, (or it could have been totally serious - does it matter?). The music was at least as sophisticated as anything they'd produced prior to that time and, considerably more so in places, but without losing any of Otis' essential rawness. He certainly didn't rein back on the "punctuation" at all! I get the impression that the Stax team were really trying to move forward in terms of attempting to both retain and grow their audience. (Sorry for the management speak - I think "The Apprentice" does things to one's brain!)
The album contains 4 covers and 8 originals, with the latter either from Redding himself (mainly) or others within Stax. The covers are intriguing. Two of them are numbers which, until then, you would never have expected to see on a soul album. "Tennessee Waltz" was an old country number but hardly one with the potential of becoming a country soul classic. Patti Page took it into the charts in 1950 and there were loads of other versions. Knowing Otis and/or his handlers' liking for Sam Cooke, it was probably the latter's version that they picked up on. It's easy to forget now, but Mr Cooke recorded lots and lots of stuff that was nothing like soul. None of this really matters though. It's what they did with it that's of real interest. It's become an absolute stonker, a slow steamy slice of in-your-face Otis with big fat horns all over the place and a tinkly bar piano from, presumably, Booker. There's one marvellous ascending horn phrase in particular (which incidentally finds an echo in the even more steamy climax of "Try a little Tenderness").
Which takes me on to that little baby. This one warrants an essay to itself. It was so, so, different from anything that the man (and his band) had ever attempted before. Initially I wasn't fully convinced. My full conversion came during my attendance at the 1967 Stax Revue (sorry if anyone's read these words before but I can hardly suppress such memories!). Sam and Dave had closed the first half in such storming fashion that one doubted whether Otis, the show closer, could ever match, let alone, surpass, such energy and passion. And he didn't, not until his last number. All the hits came & went. They were great but still not good enough to expunge the memory of S & D. Then Otis quietly launched into "...Tenderness" and Al Jackson kicked on with that metronomic beat - he's the quiet star of this number! It grew, and it grew, and it grew, and it grew. I don't know how many times they repeated the final lines with the band going up, and up, and up, and then down, with the whole band (it seemed), marching forward then back on the stage. Bye, bye, Sam and Dave. I can never hear "...Tenderness" without these musical and visual images. I would put "Tenderness" on a par with "I've been loving you.." as his best ever releases but I guess I could be said to be biassed......
The other covers are great as well but suffer slightly in comparison to the pair described above. "Day Tripper" is a cover of a very well known Beatles number. Otis makes it his own, just like he did with "Satisfaction" on "Otis Blue". The other one, "You're still my Baby" is an obscure number penned by early r'n'b singer, Chuck Willis, and it's another goodie.
The originals very nearly match the covers in quality. The lead number "Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa" which picks up on the theme from the sleeve, sounds like it's going to be a novelty, but it's a medium tempo "sad song" (in Otis' words - he wrote it) with the horns neatly echoing Otis' phrases. "Sweet Lorene" is a stunner with a most unusual tune, unlike anything else I can think of in the genre. The band are outstanding on this one. "You put the hurt on me" is a medium to fast stomper with organ stabs and horns playing triplets!. The titles are often misleading. "Hawg for You" sounds as if it's going to be one of those, almost throwaway fast items that Otis tends to like but instead, it's a really lowdown blues with Steve Cropper providing suitable down and dirty guitar work.
Overall there's a difference in sound from earlier Redding albums. It seems rounder and, fuller. I can't pin it down to one thing. There are probably lots of little differences. But it's certainly not for the worse. I believe that the Stax team, that is Otis, the band members, the producers, possibly down to the guy who cleaned the studio, all really worked together to produce and evolve a sound that they hoped would take the audience with them (as well as sounding very much as if they were a joy to perform).
This was effectively the last studio album from Otis before his untimely death. It was followed by the tracks that made up "The King and Queen" (duets with Carla Thomas) and tracks which later appeared on the posthumous "Dock of the Bay". I would humbly suggest that there were more than sufficient signs of evolution on this particular album to suggest that, had Otis lived, he would have survived the apparent rundown in the popularity of his music and gone on to greater things.
Most reviewers I've seen suggest that new collectors should start with "Otis Blue" and then move onto this one. I have no reason to disagree with that point of view.