POP MUSIC REVIEW : Fighting Words From Pablo Moses

It is tempting to say that the best thing about Wednesday’s Pablo Moses-Charlie Chaplin show at Club Rex in Santa Ana was that the blasted thing finally started.

Even by loose standards of many reggae events, getting the concert under way 2 1/2 hours after the advertised show time was pushing it.

Fortunately, Moses was worth the wait. Ambling on stage and plugging in his guitar, he declared himself a “Reggae Warrior” (over the insistent groove of that song)--and it was pretty hard to argue.

Wearing an expression of unsmiling determination, the veteran singer-songwriter addressed a variety of topics, from sociopolitical issues and Rastafarian concerns to the simpler matters of romance.

Between the almost fierce look in his eyes and his high, plaintive vocals, Moses achieved a sort of E.F. Hutton effect: When Pablo sings, people listen. So he easily commanded attention with such passionate pleas as “Freedom for the Africans,” especially since he isn’t one to mince words: “Tutu is really trying/But the church won’t helping/While the murderers raping the land/Taking the bread from the sufferers’ hands.”

Such periodic, pithy blasts encouraged listeners to hang on every word, even when the words involved less weighty statements such as “I Want to Be With You,” a pledge of devotion to a mate that Moses delivered with a silky croon.

Moses’ Revolutionary Dream Band figured heavily into the success of his set. The five-piece unit continually locked into slithering, rock-solid riddims, which the two keyboardists often embroidered with colorful textures or synthesized horn parts. This excellent outfit’s approach was at once earthy and modern. And unlike their leader, these guys were all smiles and apparently having a lot of fun.

The Revolutionary Dream Band also backed opening act Charlie Chaplin, who neither wore an ill-fitting suit nor carried a cane--but was a wag. Considered the deejay who poses the stiffest competition for Yellowman’s pre-eminence (or, as repeatedly announced Wednesday, “the No. 1 deejay in Jamaica”), Chaplin almost lived up to his reputation.

He certainly cut a cartoonish figure on stage, which helped compensate for his irritating way of introducing most numbers “from Charlie Chaplin to you.” (Thanks.) He also shook things up a bit with a Michael Jackson “Billie Jean” spoof and by performing “La Bamba.” You haven’t really lived until you’ve seen a Jamaican reggae band blaze through a full-tilt version of “La Bamba.”