Al Green was fourteen when his father caught him mid-needle-drop on a brand-new Jackie Wilson record and threw him out of the house. "For listening to Jackie Wilson and Otis Redding and people like that," Green told Fresh Air's Terry Gross of his crime, in a devoutly gospel household that wanted the family quartet kept sacred. He took the exile as a career: by 1968, singing in a Midland, Texas club for gas money home, he caught the ear of Memphis bandleader Willie Mitchell, who spent years softening Green's harder, Redding-schooled shout into the unhurried, falsetto-lit Hi Records sound of "Let's Stay Together" and "Love and Happiness." A near-fatal 1979 stage collapse pushed him toward the ministry and his own Memphis church, though he never fully left secular soul behind. What Mitchell and Green built was gospel fervor refusing to leave the room, however smooth the arrangement got around it.
Before he ever owned a record, Green had his grandmother's radio: "I heard Sam Cooke on the radio, on my grandmama's radio, singing 'Nearer My God To Thee.' And oh, I just went..." he told Fresh Air, describing a farm in rural Arkansas with no TV and no gravel road in. Cooke was also the singer Green named, alongside Jackie Wilson, when he said he never split gospel feeling from secular feeling — "if they sang with feeling, from their hearts, I loved the music."
listen forCooke's 1955 Soul Stirrers side leans on a churchy call-and-response, his voice riding above the quartet's answering harmony on every line. On Green's 1982 gospel album cut of the same hymn tradition, that quartet is gone, replaced by a full band, but the phrasing habit survives — Green stretches and doubles back on syllables the way Cooke does, worrying a single word until it opens up.
Green can still narrate the exact record that ended his time under his father's roof: "I got this brand new album called 'Baby Workout' by Jackie Wilson... And by the time Jackie Wilson said, (singing) oh, baby, move up... Daddy come in the door and caught me," he told Fresh Air, laughing at the memory of the ensuing "third degree." He landed with a neighbor family and, within the year, was fronting his first group, The Creations.
listen forWilson's 1963 single rides a hard, insistent dance groove that never lets up, his voice riding right on top of it. Green's 1972 hit borrows that same coiled, start-stop tension — a groove held back before it's allowed to break loose — though where Wilson stays at full boil throughout, Green lets his voice drop to a near-whisper before the hook snaps back.
Redding was the other name Green's father caught him playing — "listening to Jackie Wilson and Otis Redding and people like that" is the exact charge Green remembers. He kept singing Redding's songs anyway: fronting his teenage group The Creations, he told Fresh Air, "we sung everything that was on the radio" including Redding's "Dock Of The Bay." Biographer Robert Gordon's liner notes go further, crediting Redding's "fractured vocal approach," alongside Sam Cooke's, as the two styles Green fused before he found his own sound.
listen forRedding's posthumous 1968 hit floats over a loping, unhurried backbeat, his voice going conversational and half-spoken between the sung lines. Green's 1974 hit rides that same easy, river-slow groove, his voice sliding down into an intimate half-talk before climbing back into full melody — the same trick of restraint before release.