B is for Bob

Twenty five years ago today, we lost the great Robert Nesta Marley to cancer at age 36. What he left behind was a collection of the finest music ever conceived. The legacy and legend of Bob Marley is hard to overstate. He is in the pantheon of past musical masters with Mozart, Elvis, Lennon, and Cash. Activist, Rasta, and Reggae Jesus – he is the man. Most importantly, he is timeless and pretty much universally respected. That respect is grounded in his sound, how he lived, what he stood for, and finally, what he sang about; prejudice, war, freedom, Jamaica, God, black power, family, dignity, justice, equality, and love. He was the international voice of a people, a religion, a musical genre, and a nation. He wrote inspirational music that speaks to anyone that will be taken in by the intoxicating bounce of reggae. His greatest strength, however, was the straight from the gut tone of his lyrics. Take the opening line from Trenchtown Rock:

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel OK.”

Yeah – that is about right. I have been a fan since I first heard him in the seventh grade. I think I have seen the Wailers more than any other band except for the Ramones. When L. was giving birth, Bob was playing in the delivery room. Our boy J. was brought into this world to the sound of Exodus. As a cranky infant, one of the few things I could do to console him was to dance with him in my arms, while Songs of Freedom played on the stereo. For that alone, I owe Bob Marley a huge debt of gratitude.

“I woke this morning, smiled with the rising sun. Three little birds were on my doorstep,
singing sweet songs of melodies pure and true. This is my message to you-who-who.
Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, ‘cause every little thing is gonna be alright.”

Ok – Three Little Birds may be overplayed, but you cannot deny the rhythm or sentiment. This is one of the terrific songs to play if you have a tedious task to do or just need to put a smile on your face. Try it sometime. I promise it works.

“I know that I’m not perfect, and that I don’t claim to be. But before you point your finger, make sure your hands are clean. Judge not, lest you be judged yourself.”

It was 1962 when Marley wrote ‘Judge Not’. He was seventeen years old at the time. It’s pretty damn amazing for a kid to so succinctly state the nature of tolerance. Ninety percent of adults need to learn that lesson. I wish like hell they would.

‘Burning and Looting’, ‘Africa Unite’, ‘Stir It Up’, ‘No Woman, No Cry’. I could go on for days quoting lyrics and writing about what they mean to me. That would get boring really quickly. So instead, I urge you to dig through your music collection and find your copy of ‘One Love’. I know you have one, so go get it. Take care of whatever you need to do to get yourself five uninterrupted minutes and soak in the pure musical, mystical genius.

I never knew the man and never saw him play live, but, dear Lord, I wish I had. Bob, we miss you.

“Rastaman live up. Congoman don’t give up. Rastaman live up. Natty dread don’t give up.”