Otis Redding

Started the morning with Pink Floyd’s Meddle.  Then Marvin Gaye.  Every time I listen to Marvin Gaye I’m amazed anew at the lithe, searing, longing, angry sound of his voice.  Beautiful and dangerous.

But then I pulled out the Otis Redding.  And really, no one can touch Otis.

Sound here doesn’t come close to doing him justice (the studio version slays), but you get the idea, and the segue into the Stones is a fine thing:

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