Even the lead-in bass sounds mournful. And then comes Wright's voice, twisting through the orchestration, singing with audible pain -- this may be the most naked recording in popular music. The chorus backing him up, keeping the voice that longs to break through the grievously paced melody anchored, lets you know exactly how it feels to be subject to hurt one can't shake off. But this isn't just a noble slog -- serving the purpose of all art, it distills human emotion.

 

2. "Your Good Thing Is About to End" (Mabel John, studio unknown)

 

An eerie song -- full of shifts in key and orchestration, but delivered in the same assertive, proudly unyielding voice from start to finish; where most soul is about breaking down, "Your Good Thing" is about keeping one's distance. The rinky-dink piano that ushers the song in sounds so timeless that it makes the entire recording feel untied to any era, something that can't be said of any other soul song I know.

 

3. "I Want Everyone To Know" (O.V. Wright, Backbeat)

 

Save for the seconds-long saxophone solo in the middle -- about as cliched as any musical phrase I've ever heard -- a perfect song, and probably the great pure composition in 60s soul. (I'll be damned if the Stones didn't listen to it). The wavering but proud tone of Wright's voice, not something he warms up to, but simply in place from that opening phrase "Deeper than deep," belies what makes the entire song so damn hypnotic -- its contrast of the singer's bafflement with the joy he finds in loving, regardless of getting any return. How many pop songs tell that side of the story?

 

4. "Do Right Woman-Do Right Man" (Aretha Franklin, Atlantic)

 

The most charismatic female soul singer at the height of her powers. Aretha never asked you to cry, like O.V. -- she asked you to be aware of how beautiful things were. Even in the midst of a plea like this one, she jumps up to notes so unlike anything you expect -- and then hits them with such ringing clarity -- that you're taken aback.

 

5. "Lost Someone," Live Version (James Brown, King)

 

Pre-funk J.B. actually had more feeling, and in this shamelessly, and then transcendently, heart-tugging ode to, well, himself, he teases his audience forward, almost to the breaking point, rippling across currents of notes, disolving all truths into stock soul phrases ("Y'know, I feel alright," "It makes me think about the good things," "Come on home to me," etc.). And then comes the voice in the audience: "James, you're an asshole." Maybe -- but with assholes like these, who needs friends?

 

Five More: "To Love Somebody" (James Carr, Goldwax), "Give Your Lovin' Right Now" (Wilson Pickett, Atlantic), "I Would Rather Go Blind" (Etta James, FAME), "Can I Change My Mind?" (Tyrone Davis, Ekdar), "(Everybody Knows) The River Song" (O.V. Wright, Backbeat).