POP MUSIC REVIEW : Toots Hibbert Sings Gamely Through the Flu

The album “Toots in Memphis” may be up for a Grammy award, but as reggae singer Frederick (Toots) Hibbert fought a rasping case of the flu Wednesday night, a more sensible idea might have been “Toots in Bed.”

Hibbert sounded chesty, muffled and extra-husky as he began his show at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano--and adding extra husk to Toots’ supremely gritty voice is like adding pickle brine to the Dead Sea. The only thing Hibbert could do was let the crowd in on his condition, and he did just that during the concert’s first pause. At the same time, though, he invoked the touring trouper’s first commandment: “But the show has to go on.”

For about an hour, Toots--clad in a double-breasted, red lame jacket--prevailed on sheer energy and enthusiasm and received helpful vocal relief from three sharp backup singers who, being his daughters, had extra reason to lend their dad full support (Toots’ fine 11-member ensemble, the Maytals, also included his son, Hopeton, on bass).

Hibbert dabbed at his nose and forehead with a handkerchief as he gamely gritted his way through most of the songs from “Toots in Memphis.” The Jamaican singer is one of the most noteworthy disciples of Otis Redding, the great, raw-voiced Memphis soul singer, and “Toots in Memphis” emphasizes the soul heritage that always has been a foundation of Hibbert’s brand of reggae.

If the flu dampened Hibbert’s voice, it didn’t affect his cheerfulness, or the zest for performing that had him dancing about, punching the air and underlining melodic jumps with physical leaps. When he followed the “Toots in Memphis” material with his soulful reading of John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” (in which West Virginia becomes “West Jamaica,”) and a hot version of “Pressure Drop,” the song that first brought Toots and the Maytals to the attention of audiences outside Jamaica, it appeared that Hibbert had accomplished something commendable. End of show, congratulations for conduct above and beyond the call and off to bed where you belong.

But Toots had other ideas. Instead of going off to nurse his flu, he stayed on and began singing, gospel-testifying style, about how even though he had been sick for a week, “I’m gonna really sock it to you.”

For an additional 70 minutes, the Coach House crowd was thoroughly and absolutely socked--the joyful punching bags for an astonishing, nonstop soul-and-reggae onslaught. Suddenly, the flu became about as serious a hindrance for Toots as a sprained ankle had been last Sunday for Super Bowl star Jerry Rice. Hibbert quarterbacked his band on extended, lilting drives through the meat of his repertoire: “Monkey Man,” “Reggae Got Soul” and “Funky Kingston.”

He put his horn-driven Maytals through quick stops and starts and tempo shifts, and they followed him at every turn. He roused the audience with call-and-response singing and chanting, his voice cruising through demanding soul-gospel phrasings with the power of a man who had just been faith-healed. He strode on tables and shook almost every hand in the house.

Hibbert’s hands spread germs, no doubt, but his reggae was pure elixir.