Last week while reading Unburnable, I felt some nostalgia for my Bob Marley days. When I was a kid between the ages of maybe 14 and 16, I was obsessed with Bob Marley, Reggae music and Rastafarian culture — though unlike Bill Clinton, the reason I didn’t inhale was because I wasn’t smoking.
Over time, I kind of lost my Bob Marley enthusiasm for a series of reasons. I even wrote a tongue-and-cheek criticism, for the sake of argument, about white people who assume the Rasta look. It was amazing to see how many people fell for the trap and responded angrily. Every once in a while I still put on some of my old Reggae albums by artists like Burning Spear, Joe Higgs, Ras Michael and the Sons of Negus, Jacob Miller, Ijahman Levi, and others that I had lived off of in my adolecence.
And whenever I revisit Bob Marley, I am always more than impressed by the depth his music. All of his music can be summed up by the lines from “Trench Town Rock” that reads, “one good thing about music is that when it hurts you feel no pain.” Continue reading