Soul music isn't about hitting the notes perfectly. If it were, we’d all be listening to robots or opera singers. No, soul is about that specific, gravelly break in a man’s voice when he’s trying to tell you he’d be the ocean just to catch your tears. When Otis Redding stepped into the Stax studios in Memphis to record Otis Redding That's How Strong My Love Is, he wasn't just covering a song. He was basically hijacking it.
Most people think this is an Otis original. It’s not.
The track was actually written by Roosevelt Jamison, a man who spent his days as a blood technician and his nights as a gospel-obsessed songwriter. He originally gave it to O.V. Wright. Wright's version is great—honest, smooth, and very "Memphis." But when Otis got his hands on it in late 1964, something shifted. He didn't just sing the lyrics; he pleaded them.
Why the B-Side Became the Main Event
Back in the sixties, the "A-side" was the king. For this release, the big push was for "Mr. Pitiful." That was the hit. That was the song meant to get the radio play and the teenagers dancing. Otis Redding That's How Strong My Love Is was tucked away on the back, the B-side.
Funny how history works.
While "Mr. Pitiful" did well, reaching #10 on the R&B charts, the "flip side" started taking on a life of its own. It eventually hit #18 on the R&B charts itself. You’ve got to realize how rare that was—for a B-side to actually compete with the main single. People weren't just buying the record for the upbeat dance track; they were buying it for the slow burn on the other side.
💡 You might also like: Michael Open Your Eyes: The Road to Perdition Quote That Hits Different Today
The song eventually led off his 1965 album The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads. If you haven't heard that record, stop what you're doing. Seriously. It’s 32 minutes of raw, unadulterated emotion that makes most modern "sad" songs sound like a corporate greeting card.
The Magic of the Stax House Band
You can't talk about this track without talking about the guys in the room. This wasn't a solo effort. You had the legendary Booker T. & the M.G.'s providing the foundation.
- Steve Cropper on guitar (those subtle, stinging licks).
- Donald "Duck" Dunn holding down the bass.
- Al Jackson Jr. keeping time like a heartbeat.
- Booker T. Jones on the organ, filling the gaps with warmth.
And don't forget the horns. The Memphis Horns—Wayne Jackson and Gene "Bowlegs" Miller—provide that swelling, majestic background that makes the song feel like a religious experience. There’s a rumor that Isaac Hayes played piano on these sessions, though he wasn't credited at the time. It wouldn't surprise me. The arrangement is thick, but it breathes. It gives Otis the space to be vulnerable.
Otis vs. The Rolling Stones: A Study in Soul
Here is a bit of trivia that usually trips people up. Just months after Otis released his version, The Rolling Stones covered it for their album Out of Our Heads.
Mick Jagger loved Otis. He idolized him. But even Jagger knew he couldn't out-soul the Big O. The Stones version is fine—it's a respectful homage—but it lacks the sheer weight of the Otis recording. When Otis says he'll be the "willow tree" or the "birds in the tree," you actually believe he's capable of transforming into nature just to prove a point.
Otis had this way of singing like he was on his knees. O.V. Wright sang it like a man in charge; Otis sang it like a man who would die if the love stopped. That’s the difference. That is why his version is the one that stuck.
👉 See also: Who is Luke’s wife? The Truth About Mara Jade and the New Canon
Breaking Down the Lyrics
Roosevelt Jamison used natural imagery to describe devotion, and while that sounds like "Songwriting 101," it works because of the delivery.
- The Sun: "I'll be the sun shining bright."
- The Moon: "I'll be the moon so bright."
- The Ocean: "I'll be the ocean so deep and wide."
It’s simple. It’s almost elemental. But listen to how Otis handles the word "strong." He doesn't just say it. He growls it, stretches it, and then lets it fall. He’s not just talking about romantic love; he’s talking about a force of nature.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Recording
There is a common misconception that Otis was just a "natural" who walked in and nailed everything in one take without thinking.
While he was incredibly fast in the studio, he was also a businessman and a producer in his own right. He knew exactly how he wanted those horns to hit. He worked closely with Steve Cropper to "Otis-ize" the song. They stripped away some of the gospel polish of the original and replaced it with a grittier, more secular desperation.
Honestly, the "lo-fi" quality of the 1964/65 Stax recordings actually helps. The slight hiss, the way the vocals occasionally red-line the equipment—it adds to the authenticity. It feels like you're standing in a sweaty room in Memphis rather than listening to a polished digital file.
✨ Don't miss: Blake Edwards Skin Deep: Why This Messy 80s Comedy Still Hits Different
The Actionable Legacy: How to Listen Now
If you want to truly appreciate Otis Redding That's How Strong My Love Is, don't just stream it on a tiny phone speaker while you're doing the dishes.
- Find the Mono Mix: The original mono mix has a punch that the later stereo "re-channeling" misses. In the mono version, the band feels like a single, unified wall of sound.
- Compare the Versions: Listen to O.V. Wright’s original Goldwax recording, then the Otis version, then the Rolling Stones cover. It’s the best way to understand what "soul" actually is. You can hear the evolution of a song from a gospel-tinged ballad to a soul masterpiece to a rock and roll staple.
- Check the Live Footprint: While there aren't many high-quality live recordings of this specific track compared to "Try a Little Tenderness," any live Otis footage from the 1967 Stax/Volt European tour will give you the context of his power.
Otis died way too young. December 1967. A plane crash in a frozen lake in Wisconsin. He was only 26.
When you listen to the maturity and the sheer vocal gravity of a song like this, it’s impossible to wrap your head around the fact that he was just a kid in his early twenties. He had a lifetime of heartbreak and devotion packed into a voice that hadn't even reached its prime yet.
To really dive deeper into the Stax sound, you should track down a physical copy of The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads or the Volt/Atco singles collection. Hearing these tracks in the order they were released gives you a roadmap of how Otis transformed from a Little Richard imitator into the undisputed King of Soul. Start with the mono vinyl if you can find it; the warmth of the analog recording matches the warmth of the performance in a way digital just can't quite replicate.