Marley’s Allure Shows Life After Death

Bigger than the Beatles.

That’s what Dennis Howard, the Kingston, Jamaica-based editor of Reggae Times, says about Bob Marley.

“There are two different worlds--the Western world, and the world,” Howard says. “In Africa, in Latin America, in China--in the world, he’s already bigger than the Beatles, he’s bigger than everybody. In the 21st century, he’ll be the biggest global superstar.”

Twenty years after the dreadlocked Marley succumbed to cancer at age 36 (on May 11, 1981), his deceptively easy, hypnotizing rhythms and his ganja-drenched message of love have traveled the world many times over.

“In any village in Africa, you say Marley and people know who you’re talking about,” says cultural critic Haki Madhubuti, founder and editor of Chicago’s Third World Press. “And they smile.”

Still the world’s biggest-selling reggae artist according to SoundScan, which tracks record sales, Marley sold 778,000 in the U.S. last year alone, far more than when he was alive--he is viewed by his fans as much more than a musician. A fervent practitioner of Rastafari, a Caribbean religion that preaches tolerance and fraternity, enshrines the late Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie as a supreme being and uses marijuana as part of its sacred rituals, Marley is also regarded by many as something of a divine messenger.

“In the world, he has iconic status; he’s a messianic figure whose impact has been phenomenal, especially when you consider he came from such a small island,” Howard says.

Nesta Robert Marley--the child of a white man and a black woman--was born in Trench Town, Kingston’s wrong-side-of-the-tracks ghetto. Surrounded by poor, destitute and hopeless people, he developed an empathy for the oppressed and a sharp sense of both his status as one of them and of his privilege once he became an influential figure.

“He never grew too big for the people he represented in his music,” says Madhubuti.

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In Kingston, where reggae music is a constant soundtrack and Marley’s face looks out from posters and murals all over town, he quietly took on a series of community projects and personal responsibilities during his lifetime. According to a much-repeated story, at one time he supported more than 6,000 people with food, housing and jobs.

“Unity, development, solidarity, education, hard work--those are the tenets of Rastafari,” Howard says. “As a result, Marley was a great humanitarian: He invested in schools and in the infrastructure of the country.”

Not that he wasn’t controversial, even in Jamaica. At one time after Marley became involved in local Kingston politics, there was even an attempt on his life. The bullet holes are still preserved in his home there, now a tourist attraction.

Recognized for his talent early on, Marley began by playing local styles in vogue in the early ‘60s in Kingston: ska, bluebeat, rock steady, R&B; and doo-wop. It was after he met a local producer named Lee “Scratch” Perry in 1970 that Marley began experimenting with what would come to be called reggae. (Marley used to claim the word was Spanish for “the king’s music,” but its origin was probably street slang; it was first popularized not by Marley or Perry but by Toots and the Maytals in a 1968 dance single called “Do the Reggay.”)

With Perry, a street tough with no musical education or experience, Marley and his group, the Wailers (Bunny Wailer, Peter Tosh and studio drummer Carly Barrett), developed his trademark reggae sound: the upfront bass line with a flinty rhythm guitar wrapped around it, and the now standard “one-drop” beat.

Though Marley had a series of Jamaican hits, it wasn’t until he went to London in 1974 and met Chris Blackwell, the founder of Island Records, that his career took off. That association produced a string of albums that are the Marley canon: “Babylon by Bus,” “Catch a Fire,” ’Exodus,” “Natty Dread,” among others.

Touring extensively, and all over the world, Marley was also the subject of scores of bootleg recordings. One of the most coveted was taped June 10, 1975, at the Quiet Knight Club in Chicago. The eight tracks include “Talkin’ Blues,” “Trenchtown Rock” and “I Shot the Sheriff,” which Eric Clapton had turned into a monstrous hit the year before. By then both Wailer and Tosh were gone from the line-up.

In 1977, Marley was in Paris touring in support of “Exodus” when, during a friendly game of soccer with some French professional players, he was tackled and injured his right toe. The wound never healed, setting him off on a tour of medical facilities in the U.S. and Europe to find out what was wrong. Eventually he was diagnosed with cancer of the liver, lungs and brain.

He died four years later in Miami, just hours after arriving from Germany, where he had been seeking medical care. Today, Marley’s music is owned by Universal Records, which bought the catalog from Blackwell. The Marley family in Jamaica, however, runs Tuff Gong International, which includes various tourist sites, including Marley’s birthplace and tomb site, Nine Mile, as well as the Marley mansion on Hope Road and Marley’s old recording studio.

There’s also the Bob Marley Foundation (which provides funds for community projects in Jamaica) and the Rita Marley Foundation (which provides assistance for projects in Africa), as well as a series of merchandising enterprises.

Besides CDs, tapes, books and T-shirts, the Marley Store sells “camo” (camouflage) bags, various fashion lines and even a Marley signature luggage set.

Reggae Times’ Howard says he sees no contradiction between the commercialization of Marley and his larger messages of love and unity. “Marley is a name brand, and we live in the 21st century,” he says. “Everything is cash. Sure, the Marley clan is cashing in. But it’s the same as Graceland, same as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Everyone wants to make money. Why not the Marleys?”

The Marley clan doesn’t just sell Marley products to promote the patriarch’s vision. Many are also musicians, including his widow, Rita; sons Ziggy, Stephen and Julian and daughter Stephanie. Son Rohan, a professional soccer player, is the husband of American singer Lauren Hill, whose “Turn Your Lights Down Low” was a highlight on “Chant Down Babylon,” a collection of posthumous duets between Marley and a new generation of singers, including Erykah Badu and Chuck D.

“Marley is more popular in death than in life because a lot of his work is still being discovered and recognized,” says Eppie Edwards, deputy director of the National Library of Jamaica in Kingston, which has the largest public collection of Marley materials. “The message of his songs was peace, looking out for the underdog, love. Simple as that.”