Take Me To The River
Al Green (as told to Davin Shay)
Payback Press £14.99, pp350
Schizophrenia is not a trait normally associated with Al Green. As the last soul titan of his era, he remains etched in the annals of pop culture as a debonair figure, a product of the cultural boom in American urban pop.
Yet only three pages into his autobiography, the singer illustrates his identity crisis. He writes: 'There's Al Green, the last of the Great Soul Men; Al Green, the Country Preacher with the common touch; and Al Green, the family man. And most of the time you never know which Al you're going to get. And neither does he.'
Green rose to fame in the early Seventies: a heart-throb balladeer for black America, with a string of hits including 'Tired Of Being Alone', 'Let's Stay Together', 'I'm Still In Love With You'. Backed by Willie Mitchell's Hi Records' soul orchestra, Green's dazzling voice sang of both romance and his concern for the faltering civil rights movement. For a handful of years at the start of the Seventies, he could do little wrong.
Green's career trajectory knew no limits: and he enjoyed the benefits of his poster-boy image. In Take Me To The River, however, he circumnavigates his excesses, relegating them to a misspent youth. In October 1974, at the height of his creative powers, Green's former girlfriend, Mary Woodson, broke into his Memphis home and poured boiling grits on him as he was bathing. She later committed suicide.
Green interpreted the incident as a sign from God that he should enter the ministry, and in 1976, he purchased the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Memphis, where he preaches to this day. Here, he writes: 'Who can say why one man is born again and another stays dead in his sins? Who knows why God picks one and passes over the other? None of us can say what the plan of God may be for our lives, the number of our days, or the purpose to which they will be put. But I do know this: The choices we make follow after us, lifting us up or dragging us down. God may choose you or me or anybody He pleases. But we have to choose back, every minute of every day.'
The born-again psychoanalysis is particularly dissatisfying: Take Me To The River is part of Green's reinvention. The singer has, throughout the past 25 years, sought to distance himself from his repertoire and reputation - only occasionally resurfacing for a handful of shows. His reputation now solely rests on a handful of early-Seventies albums - Al Green Gets Next To You, Let's Stay Together, Call Me, Al Green Explores Your Mind and Belle. A pop album, touted since the early Nineties, has failed to surface. And the potential of that lyrical voice ebbs away year after year.
Ultimately, the book is little more than a seriously flawed read - disengaging the reader with half-memories and biblical sermons. At times, it reads like an exercise in self-help. Compared with comprehensive soul biographies of the past - Doug Carter's The Black Elvis: Jackie Wilson, Steve Turner's Trouble Man: The Life and Death of Marvin Gaye and Daniel Wolff's You Send Me: The Life and Times of Sam Cooke - Green's effort fails to contextualise his career. By the last page, that soaring voice has barely been explained and the singer remains as intangible as ever.
