Al Green's 1975 compilation *An Even Better Collection* gathers his most luminous soul recordings from the early seventies—the period when his voice and Hi Records' production became synonymous with devotion itself. If you haven't heard "Let's Stay Together" or "Tired of Being Alone" in a proper listening room, this is the entry point. Essential soul, no argument.
There’s a particular kind of quiet that settles in a room when Al Green’s voice appears. It’s not silence; it’s the sound of everything else stepping back.
An Even Better Collection arrived in 1975 as a repackaging of material Green and producer Willie Mitchell had assembled at Memphis’ Royal Studio over the preceding three years. By then, the partnership had already transformed soul music’s landscape. Green’s voice—that liquid, almost conversational tenor that could crack with emotion or sustain a note until it became almost unbearable—had become the template for a certain kind of emotional directness in R&B. Not showiness. Not technical display. Just a man telling you the exact thing he feels, over and over, until the repetition becomes hypnotic.
The genius of this collection sits in its assembly. “Let’s Stay Together” opens with a shuffle so gentle you might miss it on first listen—just rim clicks and a bass line so economical it sounds like it’s happening in the next room. Green enters, and the song doesn’t build so much as reveal itself, layer by layer, each repetition of the title phrase another small argument for permanence. It’s arguably the defining soul record of its era, and yet it doesn’t announce itself. That restraint is everything.
Willie Mitchell’s production work here deserves singular mention. He understood that Green’s voice didn’t need elaborate orchestration; it needed space, and occasionally, the right echo. The session musicians—primarily the Hi Records house band, with keyboardist Teenie Hodges a particular presence—operated from a philosophy of subtraction. A horn line enters, then vanishes. A string section swells for eight bars. The rhythm section locks into grooves so deep they feel inevitable, like they’ve always existed.
“Tired of Being Alone” demonstrates this perfectly. The song is essentially a conversation between Green’s voice and a single drum pattern, accented by organ and guitar lines that seem almost tentative. But listen long enough and you understand: there’s no space in this song, only tightness. Every instrument is doing exactly what’s necessary, nothing more. The production is so clean, so precisely calibrated, that it sounds like it was recorded yesterday.
The Voice at Its Peak
Green was twenty-eight when these sessions happened. He hadn’t yet made the turn toward gospel, though his spiritual intensity was already present in every phrase—the way he could make “I’m so tired of being alone” sound like both complaint and prayer. His voice hadn’t yet acquired the gravel that would characterize his later work. Here it’s almost pristine, capable of extraordinary control and also of sudden vulnerability.
“I’m Still in Love with You” finds him at his most direct. Three minutes of admission, supported by string arrangements that sound like they were composed to make the listening experience feel like eavesdropping. The song arrives and concludes before you’ve fully settled into it. That brevity is a kind of artistry in itself—knowing when to leave.
The collection also includes deeper cuts that reveal the range of the partnership. “Here I Am (Come and Take Me)” builds into something more orchestral, with horn sections and fuller arrangements, yet never loses that quality of intimate confession. Green’s voice remains the anchor; everything else orbits it.
By 1975, when this compilation appeared, Green was already beginning his gradual shift away from secular material. An Even Better Collection serves as a kind of final statement on the first chapter—the era when his devotion was directed toward romantic love, when that distinction mattered to him. The irony is that the music doesn’t distinguish. The spiritual intensity is already there, encoded in the voice, waiting for the moment when Green would stop disguising what he’d always been reaching toward.
The production on all of these tracks has aged impeccably. There’s nothing dated about them, nothing that references a particular moment in seventies soul except their absolute excellence. They sound like they’re happening in real time, which is the highest compliment you can pay to a record this old.
🎵 Key Takeaways
- Al Green's voice makes everything else in a room step back.
- Collection repackages Royal Studio material assembled over three years with Willie Mitchell.
- Green's tenor avoided showiness, delivering emotional directness through repetition until hypnotic.
- Let's Stay Together builds layer by layer with economical, restrained instrumentation throughout.
- Willie Mitchell gave Green space and echo instead of elaborate orchestration.
- Hi Records house band practiced subtraction, entering and vanishing precisely.
Is this the definitive Al Green album, or should I start elsewhere?
Start here. This collection gathers his most essential work in one place—'Let's Stay Together' and 'Tired of Being Alone' alone make it essential. If you want deeper exploration, seek out the original full-length albums, but this is the entry point.
What makes Willie Mitchell's production so different from other soul producers of the time?
Mitchell understood restraint. While Motown and Philadelphia soul were building elaborate arrangements, Mitchell used space, echo, and silence as instruments. He let Green's voice be the architecture; everything else was supporting wall.
Did Al Green record much after this period, and does it hold up?
He shifted to gospel in the late seventies and has maintained that focus for decades. His gospel work is genuine and affecting, but it's a different artistic project. This 1975 collection represents the end of one chapter and the quality is matchless—nothing he recorded afterward eclipses it.
Further Reading