RSSThe Wailers [extended]
- Catch a Fire [Island, 1972] A
- Burnin' [Island, 1974] A
- Natty Dread [Island, 1975] A
- Blackheart Man [Island, 1976] A-
- Rastaman Vibration [Island, 1976] B+
- Live! [Island, 1976] A-
- Exodus [Island, 1977] B+
- Protest [Island, 1977] B
- Kaya [Island, 1978] A-
- Babylon By Bus [Island, 1978] B-
- Survival [Island, 1979] B
- Uprising [Island, 1980] A-
- Bunny Wailer Sings the Wailers [Mango, 1980] A-
- Tribute [Solomonic, 1981] A-
- Chances Are [Cotillion, 1981] C
- Hook, Line and Sinker [Solomonic, 1982] A-
- Roots Radics Rockers Reggae [Shanachie, 1983] B+
- Confrontation [Island, 1983] B+
- Live [Solomonic, 1983] B+
- Legend [Island, 1984] A
- Marketplace [Shanachie, 1985] B-
- Rootsman Skanking [Shanachie, 1987] A-
- Rule Dance Hall [Shanachie, 1987] B
- Liberation [Shanachie, 1989] B
- Gumption [Shanachie, 1990]
- One Love [Heartbeat, 1991] ***
- Talkin' Blues [Tuff Gong, 1991] A-
- Just Be Nice [RAS, 1993]
- The Never Ending Wailers [Tuff Gong, 1993]
- Chant Down Babylon [Tuff Gong/Island, 1999]
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Consumer Guide Reviews:
Catch a Fire [Island, 1972]
In the mid-60s, when these Jamaicans were also known as the Rude Boys, they covered "What's New Pussycat"; now their anguished rhythms and harmonies suggest a rough spiritual analogue to the Rolling Stones, with social realism their welcome replacement for arty cynicism. At first I distrusted this nine-cut U.S. debut--it seemed laid back and stretched out in the worst album-as-art tradition. Now I notice not only that half these songs are worthy of St. John the Divine, but that the Barrett brothers' bass and drums save those that aren't from limbo. A
Burnin' [Island, 1974]
This is as perplexing as it is jubilant--sometimes gripping, sometimes slippery. It's reggae, obviously, but it's not mainstream reggae, certainly not rock or soul, maybe some kind of futuristic slow funk, War without the pseudo-jazz. What's inescapable is Bob Marley's ferocious gift for melodic propaganda. It's one thing to come up with four consecutive title hooks, another to make the titles "Get Up Stand Up," "Hallelujah Time," "I Shot the Sheriff," "Burnin' and Lootin'." A
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Natty Dread [Island, 1975]
You'd figure the loss of vocal and songwriting input from Peter Tosh and Bunny Livingston would be crippling, and reggae melodies being what they are that's the way I heard it at first. But the I-Threes pitch in like comrades rather than backup (can the Blackberries or the Sweet Inspirations claim the same?), and while the material has thinned out slightly I'm sure there are guys in Kingston who would kill for Marley's rejects. "No Woman, No Cry," a masterpiece on the order of "Trench Town Rock" or "I Shot the Sheriff," encourages him to bend and burr his sharp timbre until it's lyrical and incisive both at once. Lyrical and incisive--that's the combo. A
Bunny Wailer: Blackheart Man [Island, 1976]
This isn't what they mean when they say protest music is boring, it's what they mean when they say protest music is subtle--only they don't, which is what's wrong with protest music. The content of the lyrics is as straightforward as Rastafarian thought can be (not very), but the spirit reveals itself slowly--"Fig Tree" is Jamaican Blake, "Oppressed Song" Jamaican Brecht, and "Fighting Against Convictions" simply Jamaican English, the autodidactic patois of a "common" criminal. And the music--well. We've come a long way from reggae's "primitive" days, haven't we? The interweave of mixed-back horns and multiple percussion is as gratifying and elusive rhythmically as it is harmonically, Bunny's singing is endlessly sinuous, and if you think you never want to hear another version of "This Train," you're just wrong. A-
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Rastaman Vibration [Island, 1976]
If side one makes it seem that reggae has turned into the rasta word for boogie--even to a Trenchtown tragedy recited with all the toughness of an imprecation against litter--the unimpassioned sweetness of most of side two sounds like a function of reflective distance, assured in its hard-won calm. Some of it's even better. The Haile Selassie speech recreated here as "War" is stump statesmanship renewed by a believer, and if the screams that open the second side don't curdle the corpuscles of the baldheads who are being screamed at, then dread is gone from the world. B+
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Live! [Island, 1976]
The rushed tempos take their toll in aura: "Trenchtown Rock" can be far more precise, painful, and ecstatic; like most live albums this relies on obvious material. But the material is also choice, unlike most live albums it's graced by distinct sound and economical arrangements, and the tempos force both singer and the band into moments of wild, unexpected intensity. I used to think Natty Dread's "No Woman, No Cry" was definitive. A-
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Exodus [Island, 1977]
As with so many black artists from this country, Marley's latest lyrics seem a little perfunctory, mixing vague politics of dubious depth with hackneyed romantic sentiments of dubious depth, and so what? Marley is not obliged to devote himself to propaganda. As with so many black artists from this country, the music is primary here, a message appropriate to his condition is conveyed by the unrushed rhythms and the way the sopranos share equally with the instruments and the new wariness of his phrasing and dynamics. Some of the cuts are flat, but if the O'Jays were to put five or six good ones on an LP--including two as striking as "Jamming" and "So Much Things To Say"--we'd call it solid and enjoyable at least. That's what this is. B+
Bunny Wailer: Protest [Island, 1977]
Neither Bunny's voice, strong by Jamaican standards but no soul shout, nor reggae's persuasive but rarely irrefutable rhythms, are suited to the more forceful (or is it just louder?) procedures of this follow-up. The decrease in compassion, consolation, and--most directly to the political point--inspiration is less a matter of the words themselves than of how they're sung, but never on the last record did he resort to such radio-preacher pretensions as "the rock of discretion/Will calm the floods of conflict." Not to mention an antiabortion line. B
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Kaya [Island, 1978]
If this is MOR, it's MOR like good Steely Dan--MOR with a difference. Marley has sung with more apparent passion, it's true, but never more subtly, and his control of the shift in conception that began with Exodus is now absolute. He hasn't abandoned his apocalyptic vision--just found a day-to-day context for it, that's all. A-
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Babylon By Bus [Island, 1978]
Here's another one of those live doubles I'd love to love--because I still think they're a great band when it's customary to put them down, and because the night I caught was magnificent. But I prefer the studio versions of every one of these songs (including "Punky Reggae Party," available as an import single). In other words, here's another one of those live doubles. B-
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Survival [Island, 1979]
It's great in theory that Marley is once again singing about oppression rather than escape, but in practice the album's most powerful political statement is the diagram of the slave ship on the cover and inner sleeve. There's a world of difference between songs of experience like "No Woman, No Cry" and songs of generalization like "So Much Trouble." And it's a difference that Marley and his musicians are too damn sophisticated to make the most of. B
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Uprising [Island, 1980]
With Tosh and Bunny departed, he rose to power as a bandleader rather than a songster, writing well enough while he mastered groove and sound and interplay. Except for "Jamming," a title that sums up the period perfectly, nothing since his solo-with-band debut Natty Dread has had the instant-classic immediacy of two very different offerings here: the dancy pop shot "Could You Be Loved" and the spirit anthem "Redemption Song." "Real Situation" ("It seems like total destruction/ The only solution") and "We and Dem" (need dey say more?) are apocalyptic enough to scare the bejezus out of Babylonian well-wishers, "Coming in From the Cold" and "Forever Loving Jah" mellow enough to hold out hope. Pray for him. Pray for all of us. A-
Bunny Wailer: Bunny Wailer Sings the Wailers [Mango, 1980]
You'd think these remade rude-boy hits would hook in quick, since for most of us they're not haunted by the ghosts of the originals. Only they don't--the Third Wailer's somewhat ethereal vocal presence, as well as the intractably relaxed groove that rockers studio flash is heir to, assure that. But after too many plays hook in they do, especially on side one, where "Burial," "I Stand Predominate," and "Walk the Proud Land" form a gently triumphant triptych. A-
Bunny Wailer: Tribute [Solomonic, 1981]
In part because he understands so unmistakably that there'll be no new Marley, Bob's resolutely ital old bandmate is the one Jamaican artist who continues to exercise comparable vision, breadth, and authority. These versions of eight songs the leader sang first make clear that Marley was the more gifted vocalist, but they also make clear that Bunny's baritone added rough yearning to Bob's sweet sufferation. Better than Bunny Sings the Wailers. Maybe even as classic as Lefty Frizzell Sings the Songs of Jimmie Rodgers. A-
Bob Marley: Chances Are [Cotillion, 1981]
Compiled from what executive producer Danny Sims claims are unreleased 1968-1972 tracks and Sims's adversaries claim are overdubbed 1968-1972 demos, this is grave-robbing either way. Neither songs nor singing are what you'd call exquisite, and while the production shares certain of its awkwardnesses with the Marley-penned reggae that Sims' old partner Johnny Nash laid down after "I Can See Clearly Now," it's busier and rougher--busier and rougher than pre-Catch a Fire Wailers, too. Musically, there's often not much difference between unreleased tracks and overdubbed demos. C
Bunny Wailer: Hook, Line and Sinker [Solomonic, 1982]
The skanking Memphisbeat Sly & Robbie rolled out for Joe Cocker goes uptempo and downriver here, and Bunny rides it for the entirety of a delightful groove album. Imagine what a reggae-goes-Stax-Volt-second-line tune called "Soul Rocking Party" might sound like. No no no--imagine it done well. Now you've got it. A-
Bunny Wailer: Roots Radics Rockers Reggae [Shanachie, 1983]
This expanded version of Solomonic's 1979 In I Father's House isn't primo Bunny. Even the nicely dubwise "Rockers" is flatter than side one of Rock 'n' Groove; what's more, the sacramental Tribute and the upful Hook Line 'n Sinker have me waiting on his soon-come live album. Nevertheless, this is a worthy sample of the unjudgmental preachments and reliable rhythms of Jamaica's solidest solo artist, and if you buy it maybe there'll be more. B+
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Confrontation [Island, 1983]
There are no major songs among these lovingly selected outtakes, and on side two the material drags as low as the forced, synth-drenched "I Know." But even that one has a bridge typical of the songcraft that set Marley apart from his brethren, and on every track his vivacious attention to detail jumps out when you listen up. Inspirational Verse: "Oh Lord, give me a session not another version." B+
Bunny Wailer: Live [Solomonic, 1983]
Though his voice echoes more hollowly than the most scientific dubmaster would ever intend, the only concert the man's given in seven years sounds like it was a natural thing. His best studio albums have more distinct identities, but this is where to sample his invincible spirit. B+
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Legend [Island, 1984]
This painstaking package captures everything that made Marley an international hero--his mystical militance, his sex appeal, his lithe, transported singing and sharp, surprising rhythms. And oh yes, his popcraft, which places him in the pantheon between James Brown and Stevie Wonder. Though he had a genius for fashioning uncommon little themes out of everyday chords, he was no tunesmith--"No Woman No Cry" and "Redemption Song" could be said to have full-fledged melody lines, but from "Is This Love" to "Jamming", most of these gems are hooky chants. Which given his sharp, surprising rhythms only makes them catchier--play either seven-cut side twice before bedtime and you won't know where to start humming next morning. A
Bunny Wailer: Marketplace [Shanachie, 1985]
From "Stay With the Reggae" to "Jump Jump" to "Dance Hall Music," Bunny strives to justify his less than propitious title. It's got a good beat and you can skank to it, but you'll have to slow down when you get to the love songs. B-
Bunny Wailer: Rootsman Skanking [Shanachie, 1987]
Back in 1981, when Bunny's most unabashed sales bids ("Dance Rock" indeed) seemed swathed in an ital glow seven of these ten cuts surfaced as Rock 'n' Groove, on Bunny's JA-only Solomonic label. If they don't sound quite so unpremeditated now, they do cut a switch. Also a natural: the add-on ballad, "Cry to Me." A-
Bunny Wailer: Rule Dance Hall [Shanachie, 1987]
Bunny follows his failed bid for the marketplace by going to the people where his roots are. The results are definitely more ital, and more philosophically defensible as well. But the first side doesn't update his circa-1982 reggae&b quite nicely enough, and except for the "Stir It Up" remake, the songs on side two are a little too dubwise--abstractly dance-specific in the usual manner of disco turned in on itself. B
Bunny Wailer: Liberation [Shanachie, 1989]
He's studied his history, and the politics of his major statement are pretty smart. But ordinarily, only earnest organizer types who distribute lyrics at rallies ("To the tune of `Down by the Riverside'") think they can get a rousing song out of a line like "The OAU and the United Nations must stop all hypocritical sanctions." Bunny should know better than to hire studio musicians to do what they're told. B
Bunny Wailer: Gumption [Shanachie, 1990]
Bob Marley & the Wailers: One Love [Heartbeat, 1991]
1963-66 Studio One ska/rocksteady--gems you'll play again amid curiosities you'll be glad you heard once ("Who Feels It Knows It," "Bend Down Low," "Hooligan," "Let Him Go") ***
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Talkin' Blues [Tuff Gong, 1991]
With Joe Higgs standing in for Babylon-shy Bunny Livingston, the seven songs they recorded before an audience of half a dozen at the KSAN studios one morning in 1973--maddeningly interspersed with separately tracked bits of a 1975 interview that make a CD you can program a must--isn't just the best live Wailers I've ever heard, but the best Wailers I've ever heard. The ensemble--which by the time of 1976's Live! will substitute the dutifully beautiful I-Threes for his male mates and adjust the instrumentals to arena scale--is at a supple, subliminal peak of interactive intimacy and intensity. The previously unreleased "Am-A-Do" plus three later outtakes are a letdown only by comparison. A-
Bunny Wailer: Just Be Nice [RAS, 1993]
The Never Ending Wailers [Tuff Gong, 1993]
Bob Marley: Chant Down Babylon [Tuff Gong/Island, 1999]