Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Otis! The Otis Redding Story by Scott Freeman Otis! The Otis Redding Story by Scott Freeman. Singer/Songwriter (9-Sep-1941 — 10-Dec-1967) SUBJECT OF BOOKS. Geoff Brown . Otis Redding: Try a Little Tenderness . Canongate. 2003 . 176pp. Scott Freeman . Otis! The Otis Redding Story . New York: St. Martin's Press. 2001 . Jane Schiesel . The Otis Redding Story . Doubleday. 1973 . 143pp. ONLINE PRESENCE. AUTHORITIES. Below are references indicating presence of this name in another database or other reference material. Most of the sources listed are encyclopedic in nature but might be limited to a specific field, such as musicians or film directors. A lack of listings here does not indicate unimportance -- we are nowhere near finished with this portion of the project -- though if many are shown it does indicate a wide recognition of this individual. Otis Redding – “Try A Little Tenderness” I remember of one those nights before I left the Alamo City, my friends and I were at our favorite dive bar Scandals in San Antonio. One of my buddies, a fellow poet born Down Under, Ricardo, was getting really passionate about life, like he always did after a few cold ones and keeps talking about if we wanted to be successful in anything we had to channel our inner Otis. “It’s your little Otis” my poet friend kept repeating over and over enthusiastically. I knew exactly what he meant. Instead of listening to the li’l devil or angel on our shoulders, Ricardo believed we had to embrace the essence of our inner Otis Redding. And now every time I hear “Try A Little Tenderness” I think of that night at Scandals and my poet friend talking so ardently about Otis Redding. Did you know, although at first Redding felt some hesitation about recording “Tenderness,” but Otis finally did what does best – by honoring Sam Cooke and crooning his own immortal version of this vintage song sung by such luminaries as Frank Sinatra, Mel Torme and Bing Crosby. After Otis put the finishing touches of “Tenderness” Redding famously said, “ “Try A Little Tenderness” I cut that motherfucker, It’s a brand new song now. ” This Soul Stax legend was so right, after taking his turn at the microphone, “Try A Little Tenderness” would always be remembered as an Otis Redding song. Jim Stewart knew “Try A Little Tenderness” was a hit right after Otis finished recording his immortal version of this classic song as he told Scott Freeman in his book Otis!: The Otis Redding Story , “ That one performance is so special and unique that [“Try A Little Tenderness”] expresses who he is. That to me is Otis Redding. And if you want to wrap it up, just listen to “Try A Little Tenderness .” So why is it exactly that fans of Redding, are still connecting to his music after all these years since his tragic death in 1967? The reason is reflected in this beautifully written sentence that captures the soul of why we love Otis Redding so much, when Carol Cooper wrote, “ Even though the poetry of the blues is characteristically melancholy, Otis Redding always used to love as a metaphor for redemption from the wages of sin and injustice .” Amen. One of my favorite versions of “Try A Little Tenderness” has to be this one from his Live in London & Paris album, Otis sounds like a possessed parson preaching his sermon on love especially in this live version in London. Hearing this and any live rendition of “Try A Little Tenderness” reminds me of this quote from Robert Gordon, author of Respect Yourself: Stax Records and the Soul Explosion , when he told NPR, “ I think you can get the sense from Otis Redding’s records what it was like to be around him. You get the sense that his personality was in constant conflict with his skin trying to bust out even bigger. I think about the horn players who had been accustomed to playing whole notes for a full measure at a time and Otis is leaning into their faces: ‘No, no, no! Do it like this!’ And they’re scrambling with their horns and everything. When you’re with Otis Redding, it’s all about trying to keep up with Otis Redding .” The way that Otis band tried to keep up with him on stage as he wailed away crooning “Try A Little Tenderness” night after night, reminded me of Jim Morrison, a huge fan of Redding, wanted to be remembered after he was gone when The Doors lead singer/poet once famously said, “ I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps “Oh look at that!” Then- whoosh, and I’m gone…and they’ll never see anything like it ever again… and they won’t be able to forget me- ever .” Remarkably unforgettable that’s what you reverberate when you experience “Try A Little Tenderness.” I believe if Otis had lived he would have become the undisputed King of Soul & Rock n’ Roll. You can feel it in every muscle, bone and inch of you; and “Try A Little Tenderness” is proof, to what my poet friend was trying to tell us, you can do anything in life by channeling the essence of your Little Otis. He was so right because by evoking such passionate dedication the way that Redding did on stage, you will be more than heard, your creative spirit will be felt for generations to come. So this weekend put a little Otis Redding in your life. Embracing “Try A Little Tenderness,” today, will do your mind and body good by ingesting a little dose of Otis in your soul. Otis Redding's widow: "I always thought everything he sang, he sang for me” Zelma Redding talks about the great singer's life and death, and how she protects his legacy. By Jack Barlow. Published August 18, 2013 2:00PM (EDT) Shares. It started, as love stories so often do, over an argument. The pair ambled out of Macon, Ga.’s Douglass Theatre on an early Saturday afternoon; her, Zelma Atwood, 16 years old, pretty yet fiery; him, Otis Redding, 19, dashing, charming, a lover with an ambitious streak. He’d just been performing with local star Johnny Jenkins at the town’s hip teenage hangout, the Douglass’ Saturday matinee – he wasn’t the star of the show just yet, although that wouldn’t be too far away – and, at some point during the performance, he caught Zelma’s eye. Zelma doesn’t remember – or won’t say – what the argument was about, but it doesn’t matter. “We met, we fell in love and then we married,” Zelma recalls over 50 years later. “It’s as simple as that.” To understand Zelma Redding is to understand Otis Redding. The two have been intertwined since they first met on that fateful afternoon in 1960. When Otis was alive, Zelma was the one he would confide in on whispered, late-night phone calls from the road; after his 1967 death, it’s she who has kept a hawkish eye on his legacy, protecting the name of the man she loved so much. Born on Oct. 7, 1942, in Macon, she lives there still, residing on the Big O ranch Otis bought when he first started tasting real fame in 1965. Otis loved animals, so the place was teeming with cattle, pigs, horses – “the whole big farm thing,” as Zelma puts it – until about two years ago when, due to her leg amputation, she became more concerned with maintaining the property than actually farming it. “We got a pretty open field out there, so you can just look,” she says. “Just sit and look.” Sitting and looking wasn’t something Otis ever did too much. The pair’s relationship coincided with his rise to fame; frequently out touring or recording, even when he was in town it was mostly business. It was a tight relationship, although one that must have been caught in snatches, in fleeting visits. “Otis wasn’t at the ranch a whole lot,” Zelma recalls. “He was very busy, just beginning to get situated. He’d go out Thursday to Sunday, come back and work in the office until Tuesday, and then go back out.” “Even after [we started seeing each other] he went to California and did his first record [1960’s "She’s All Right"] and stayed with his uncle out there for about nine months. He said he was going to pursue his career and come back. And he did, because when he came back we got married.” After their marriage in 1961, Zelma stayed in Macon taking care of their young family; Dexter came first in 1960, preceding the marriage, followed by daughter Karla and son Otis III. She’d often glimpse Otis on TV, performing for increasingly larger and more enthusiastic crowds; his albums began to sail up the charts, the hits – "These Arms of Mine," "I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)," "Try a Little Tenderness" – started flowing. His hard work away from home was paying off. “It was a great feeling, you know,” she says, with a smile. “He was such a humble person and so appreciated what was going on because -- artists back then were so different from artists today -- they was doing it for the love, they had so much respect for their bands and family and friends and people in the music business." “He just accepted it, that he had to be gone. I just took it as it came. One day at a time.” That Otis Redding’s career – and, moreover, life -- ended as soon as it did is one of popular music’s greatest tragedies. On the cusp of superstardom, with a startlingly energetic breakout performance at the Monterey Pop festival just behind him and what was to be his biggest single, "Dock of the Bay," just ahead of him, he took one flight too many. On Dec. 10, 1967, a small plane carrying Redding and his band mates took off into fog and heavy rain, destined for a show in Madison, Wis. It never made it; shortly before landing, the plane plunged into the icy waters of Lake Monona. Only trumpet player Ben Cauley survived – Redding’s body had to be pulled from the bottom of the lake the next day. It was a loss so sudden, so unexpected and so traumatic that, even 45 years later, it still resonates. “A tragedy like that you never, ever get over,” Zelma says. “Not until this day. I live Otis Redding. That’s my life. “At the time, you know, you’re looking for him to call, you’re looking for that gate to open … you’re just looking for everything that happened. You’re waiting for him to come home. It takes a long time for it to sink in.” Zelma looked inward, turning her focus on herself and the couple’s three young children. It’s where it stayed over the next few, hard years; even today, the tight bonds formed in the immediate years after Otis’ death still hold true. “We’re a strong family, and that’s what it takes to get over things that happened to your loved ones and stay together,” she says. “I raised them to let them know that their father lost his life doing what he loved. And it was a great loss … we appreciate each day, every day we look at something and say, ‘Otis did that, Otis did that.’ It keeps you going.” “I had to learn to teach them not to dwell [on his death] any longer. There’s too many other things, great things, great memories, that I could tell the kids about. It makes it easier to accept. Every day of my life, somebody’s going to say, ‘You knew Otis Redding’ – and I did know Otis Redding, so, it’s just a thing that won’t ever go away. Not in my lifetime.” Gradually, she turned her attention to Otis’ business affairs. Over the years it’s been a long, constant vigil, not only having to fend off the usual unscrupulous suspects looking to profit from a dead superstar’s estate – rip-off artists, songwriting claimants and the like – but attempting to work around something even harder to pin down: technology. Problems with the unauthorized use of Redding’s work mirror those that many other popular musicians in the late 20thcentury have dealt with. First emerging in the ‘80s, sampling was an early issue; later, in the 2000s, illegal downloading became an even more serious problem. “It’s so hard to keep up with,” she says. “The thing with technology is trying to get a hold on it; by the time you think you’ve got a grip on something, something else has popped up. It’s going to be a long, long story. We tend to search and find stuff that’s not just right and, when we find it, I’ll call my attorney and let him know. Some we can control, but most of it is just out of our control.” Of course, with an estate as big as that of Otis Redding there’s bound to be a multitude of people attempting to cash in. “To this day everybody has trouble with songwriters, record companies and the like,” she says. “You’ve got to stay on top of your game. Back then they weren’t making as much money as they do today, so you got to fight, to maintain and stay strong and believe he lost his life for this -- and I’m not just going to let it go away. And that’s what I’m going to do – some people say I’m a little bit crazy, but I have to get my point across.” Zelma clearly isn’t crazy. When riled, though, she can certainly be fierce. Author Scott Freeman discovered this to his detriment when his 2001 book "Otis!: The Otis Redding Story" raised her considerable ire. Although critically well received, the book’s assertion that Otis considered divorcing Zelma before his death, plus hints that Otis wasn’t always the teddy bear he made himself out to be back in Macon, didn’t sit well with the family at all. Over a decade after its publication, Zelma’s still furious. “That Scott Freeman book, that’s a no-good book,” she says, with fire in her voice. “Shoddily done, just say anything … he went around and talked to different people who said they knew Otis but didn’t." “Losers round here in Macon, they say anything. It’s so great for a person to die and hear very few bad things about them, because nobody lives a perfect life … with anything bad you hear about Otis, it’s somebody involved with him where his career took off and theirs didn’t. Jealous- streaking people.” Such was the family’s distaste – and influence – that the book wasn’t carried in downtown Macon’s now-defunct Georgia Music Hall of Fame. “It boggles my mind that a book detailing the story of how Macon became almost the epicenter of the R&B, rock 'n' roll and funk movement is not carried by the Georgia Music Hall of Fame,” an upset Freeman fumed to Creative Loafing magazine in 2002. Over the years Zelma has turned down various "authorized" book projects and at least four potential film treatments, although she now says there are plans for both in the works. “The thing is, it’s got to be done right,” she says. “My thing is that you don’t rush and do things. But don’t worry, we’ll get it done.” In 2007, she established the Big “O” Youth Educational Dream Foundation, now the Otis Redding Foundation. Created in Otis’ memory to help assist talented youths in the arts, the Otis Redding Foundation offers scholarship opportunities and holds a camp every year for around 30 to 35 young musicians to hone their singing, songwriting and general music skills. Although she no longer runs it – that’s left to her daughter, Karla Redding-Andrews – Zelma is still president of the foundation’s board of directors, keeping, of course, an ever-present eye on proceedings. The foundation’s small office is situated a little off the main drag in downtown Macon, only three blocks from the old Douglass Theatre where it all started. It’s bright and colorful inside, decorated all around with mementos of Otis: paintings, album covers, the odd signed publicity shot of him staring straight into the camera with that famous, oh-so-charming smile. On this icy, grimy Georgian afternoon, Zelma sits in the center of the room, thoughtfully listing off her personal Otis Redding favorites. Otis, in a score of different guises, looks on from around the room. “It’s so hard for me to pick just one,” she muses. “'These Arms of Mine,' 'My Lover’s Prayer,' 'Dreams (To Remember),' oh, I can go on and on. I put Otis Redding on at home on Saturdays and let it play all day. You know, that’s my favorite: all of them.” “But,” she adds, “I do love 'These Arms of Mine,' just the way he phrases it. Then I say ‘he’s talking to me.’ That’s what I tell myself. You know, I always thought everything he sang he sang for me.” She stops, and a smile creeps across her face. “But now I’m being biased, aren’t I?” Otis! : The Otis Redding Story. Rolling Stone 's Jon Landau described Otis Redding's music as "the highest level of expression rock 'n' roll has yet attained." And now from the critically acclaimed author of Midnight Riders: The Story of the Allman Brothers Band comes an intimate look at soul brother number one and the undisputed king of soul, Otis Redding. Music was his sole occupation. Inspired by the works of Little Richard, a singer raised in a small town just miles from his own, Otis Redding knew he wanted to become a singer. This dream, his father said, would lead him nowhere, but when Otis Redding first burst onto the scene in 1962 with his R&B hit "These Arms of Mine" music enthusiasts knew they were listening to the voice of a star. With over fourteen songs gracing the top 20 chart, Otis Redding soon became a music phenomenon. Crooning tunes such as "Respect," "I Can't Stop Loving You," and "Try a Little Tenderness," Otis Redding defined a new generation of R&B music. He solidified his position as a superstar by stealing the spotlight at concerts like the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. But at the height of his career, three days after completing his most popular song "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay," Otis Redding died in a tragic plane crash over Madison, Wisconsin. Now, Otis!: The Otis Redding Story tells the true life story of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame legend who changed the face of R&B music. This revealing portrait is hailed as the most definitive text on the man who embodied the very essence of soul. REDDING, Otis, Jr. ( b. 9 September 1941 near Dawson, Georgia; d. 10 December 1967 in Madison, Wisconsin), singer who, as a leading pioneer of southern-style soul music, transcended region and race with his music, which became one of the defining sounds of the 1960s. Redding was the fourth child and first son of Otis Redding, Sr., a sharecropper, and Fannie Mae Roseman, a homemaker. Redding and his five brothers and sisters were born in a sharecropper cabin nine miles from Dawson, Georgia. In 1942 the family settled in Macon, Georgia, where Redding's father was a maintenance worker and part-time preacher and his mother worked at Woolworth's. Redding had to drop out of Ballard- Hudson High School when he was fifteen years old and in the tenth grade. His father, who had long been in poor health, was no longer able to maintain employment. As the oldest male, Redding had to go to work to support the large family. Redding began his music career in 1956, singing in amateur spots in local nightclubs, generally using his rough voice on songs by his idol, Little Richard. In 1959 he performed at a local talent show and won. Redding was singing professionally soon after that and working with bands, notably Johnny Jenkins and the Pinetoppers, which he joined in 1959 as manager, driver, and occasional singer. In mid-1960 Redding went Los Angeles for a few months, hoping for a break in his singing career, but the session he recorded there showed little of his promise. He returned to Macon later the same year and joined the unfortunately named Confederate (later Orbit) label, recording "Shout Bamalama," a derivative Little Richard sound that sold only moderately. On 17 August 1961 Redding married Zelma Atwood, a local girl whom he had dated for two years. The couple had two sons and a daughter. (Redding's sons and their cousin Mark Locket formed a successful recording group in the 1980s, the Reddings.) Through his association with the Johnny Jenkins and the Pinetoppers band, Redding got the opportunity to record again in 1962. The band was contracted to record at Stax Records in Memphis, and at the end of the session, Redding was scheduled to record two songs on speculation. Redding impressed the company with an original, "These Arms of Mine," an achingly sung ballad that captured the emerging new soul style. Stax released the record on its Volt imprint, and the record reached number twenty-nine on the Cash Box rhythm and blues (R&B) chart in 1963. As soul music records came to dominate the R&B charts, Redding rapidly became one of the foremost disseminators of the style. Most of his 1964 hits were slow ballads, notably "Pain in My Heart" and "Chained and Bound," but the more up-tempo "Security" demonstrated a broader range of his abilities as a songwriter and singer. Redding's album The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads (1965) made some of his earliest hits accessible in one popular package. Redding kept his name on the charts with some uptempo original compositions in 1965, including "Mr. Pitiful" and "Respect," which reached number four on the Billboard R&B chart and became a number-one hit for Aretha Franklin in 1967. A ballad written with soul singer Jerry Butler, "I've Been Loving You Too Long (to Stop Now)," generated Redding's first notable pop success on Billboard's Hot 100 chart in the spring of 1965. Redding, however, was still not a household name in white America. Redding sustained his recording success in 1966 with a remake of the Rolling Stones hit "Satisfaction," "Fa Fa Fa Fa Fa Fa (Sad Song)," and a propulsive remake of a 1933 big band hit, "Try a Little Tenderness." Stax released Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul in 1965 and Complete & Unbelievable … The Otis Redding Dictionary of Soul in 1966. This second album gathered his 1965 and 1966 hits and combined them with remakes of soul classics. Beginning in 1965 Redding began to branch out from performing to other areas of the music business. He established a music publishing company, Redwall Music, and a record label, Jotis, and began producing and writing for other artists. His only major success in this area was Arthur Conley's "Sweet Soul Music," a song he recorded and produced; it reached number two on both the R&B and the pop charts in early 1967. In June 1967 Redding appeared at the Monterey International Pop Festival, which was focused on the big rock acts of the day. His performance was captured for posterity in the film Monterey Pop . The audience was unfamiliar with Redding as a live artist, but his stunning performance so enhanced his reputation that the rock world came to view him as the definitive soul artist. Meanwhile, in late 1966 Stax had teamed Redding with its premier female soul star, Carla Thomas, and the two recorded a duet album, King & Queen . The album generated two of Redding's biggest hits during 1967, a Lowell Fulson remake, "Tramp," and an Eddie Floyd remake, "Knock on Wood." Late in 1967 Redding recorded a remarkable song that he had written with Steve Cropper. Representing a radical change of style for Redding, "(Sitting on) the Dock of the Bay" employed almost a folk-song approach. Sadly, he did not live to see the record become a million- selling hit, reaching number one on both the R&B and pop charts in early 1968. Redding and several members of his backup band, the Bar-Kays, died in a plane crash on 10 December 1967 while on their way to a concert date in Madison, Wisconsin. The world had just glimpsed Redding's newly evolved creativity, where under the influence of the decade's flourishing rock music revolution he was improving his lyrics and going beyond his Southern soul style. After Redding's death Stax continued to release material he had recorded during the last year of his life. Posthumously Redding had nine records on the R&B and pop charts in 1969. The most successful of the releases were "The Happy Song (Dum Dum)," "I've Got Dreams to Remember," and "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," the last a remake of an old James Brown hit. Redding emerged as a successful recording artist during the civil rights movement and the urban riots that engulfed the country's large cities, when African Americans were fighting for and winning a more equitable place in American society. As a principal architect of soul music, Redding became emblematic of black gains, becoming a cultural hero to his African-American followers and an icon of black music for the rock generation. For these achievements he was elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989 and the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1994. He is buried at his ranch outside Macon. Otis Redding is the subject of two book-length biographies: Scott Freeman, Otis! The Otis Redding Story (2001), and Geoff Brown, Otis Redding: Try A Little Tenderness (2001). The best magazine feature on Redding is Rob Bowman, "Otis Redding: R-E-S-P-E-C-T," Goldmine 16, no. 12 (15 June 1990): 9–14, 102. A four-CD boxed set, Otis! The Definitive Otis Redding (1993), includes a complete discography and several biographical essays, including commentary by Redding's widow, Zelma. An obituary is in Rolling Stone (20 Jan. 1968).