Here’s an archival piece by Wes Orshoski on the legacy of Bob Marley’s career from the September/October 2006 issue of Relix.

Bob Marley standing in front of the mirror, studying his face, head and sunken eyes, wondering what’s happening inside his skull. It’s an image carved into the memory of Wailers guitarist Junior Marvin: his singer, standing backstage at Pittsburgh’s Stanley Theater, staring back at himself, disbelieving the findings of doctors at New York’s Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.

Two days earlier, on Sunday, September 21, 1980, Marley and close friend “Skilly” Cole went for a run in Central Park. Bob and The Wailers opened for The Commodores at Madison Square Garden the previous two nights, and after the upcoming Tuesday night gig at the 2,800-seat Stanley, the band was set to open 60 shows for Stevie Wonder. So it was time to catch up on some exercise.

But while jogging, Marley’s neck froze, his body stiffened and he fell to the ground, temporarily paralyzed. The next day, Sloan Kettering physicians would inform Marley that through the infected, nail-less toe he was urged to amputate years before – the singer refused, insisting that his Rasta faith would carry him through – cancer had spread throughout his body. Tumors were now in his brain, and he may have as little as two weeks to live.

If the then-35-year-old Marley – who, two years before, had prophesized his death at 36, “like Christ” – saw and felt it coming, his band was shocked. Says Marvin: “Before the show, we were told, ‘The doctors have advised that Bob’s gotta take a rest. This is going to be our last show, possibly our last show ever.’ We we’re like, ‘What? You’re kidding.’ We couldn’t imagine that Bob was sick, because he looked okay.”

Backstage in Pittsburgh, disbelief washed over Marley as well. “Standing in front of the mirror, he seemed to be saying, ‘I look okay on the outside, what’s going on in the inside?’” says Marvin. That night, on September 23, 1980, the Wailers played their hearts out, intent on delivering a flawless swan song. Tearing through 20 songs, they ended the show with “Get Up, Stand Up,” featuring Bob, as usual, walking off before the music stopped, leaving the stage as Marvin and company continued chanting the song’s chorus.

“It was kind of a send-off party,” says longtime Wailers bassist Aston “Family Man” Barrett. “Everyone was playing with a special soul.” Days later, after Marley’s tumor re-intensified, the band was back in New York, and Family Man would shockingly glimpse his singer without his mighty dreadlocks, gone after radiation treatment.

In less than eight months – after a brief visit to a hospital in Mexico and an extended stay at an alternative cancer therapy center in Germany – Marley would die in a Miami hospital, while en route to his home in Jamaica. Until the end, May 11, 1981, he remained strong, seemingly in denial of his impending demise – at least outwardly.

“The morning before he left Germany, he called me at 5 a.m.,” says Marcia Griffiths, one-third of the fabled I-Threes, The Wailers’ backing vocalists. “He asked me why [his manager] Don Taylor came to my house, if he was trying to break up his group or something like that. Even at that stage, he still had hope.”
“He honestly thought there’s a way for him to get out of this,” says David Hinds of Steel Pulse. “One of the last conversations I had with him, he was talking about trying to get a label together, and wanted us to be part of it. His voice was strong and sprite and he was very optimistic. I said, ‘Bob, all I’m interested in is you getting well, and for us to chant down Babylon together.’”

Producer/Island Records boss Chris Blackwell arranged Marley’s planned flight home on the Concorde. The day before takeoff – with time running out – Marley phoned Blackwell, joking, “Chris, don’t get me no propeller plane.” Despite crossing the Atlantic at supersonic speed, Marley was so ill by the time that he reached Miami that his airline refused to take him on to Kingston, Marvin says.

When news of Marley’s death broke in Kingston, Family Man went to his record shop and pressing plant and told everyone to stop working and to go home. Across town tears streamed down the face of Marvin, who, with his world moving in slow motion, sat down and wrote a song about Bob called “Some Say Have No Fear.”

Long before his last breath, a string of strange coincidences and fateful encounters intertwined with a body of deeply spiritual and prophetic lyrics to help birth the mystic nature that surrounds Marley: There was the singer’s vision of his death at 36. There was his near escape from death years earlier, when gunmen attacked 56 Hope Road under the cover of night, riddling the back of his home with bullets, injuring Marley and Don Taylor, but killing no one. There was the chant session that Marley led in a Kingston stadium in 1978, upon his return to the island after a two-year absence (triggered by the shooting): At the conclusion, two earthquakes shook the ground.

While they don’t deny his ample flaws, the people who worked with him speak of Marley as if he was genuinely not of this earth. They speak of a magic that seemed to circulate around the singer. They tell stories about the man, who, after being approached by Ethiopian youths, paid for their college education. Or about the man who routinely opened his home to his countrymen, feeding thousands and doling out loans for schools and businesses on Fridays at 56 Hope Road. About the man who never locked his car, or employed bodyguards – even after the attempt on his life.

“I looked right inside of him, and I see that he was sent to me from some other spirit,” says early Wailers producer Lee “Scratch” Perry, remembering his first meeting with Bob. “Bob was kind of a gift horse,” says Bunny Wailer, the only living member of the original Wailers trio after Peter Tosh’s slaying in 1987. “He is a charity to all mankind, given to us by the almighty creator of all creation, Jah Rastafari.”

So it was perhaps fitting that when Bob actually expired, his eldest son, Ziggy Marley – then 12 years old – knew before he was even told. “Something just fell over the house,” he says. “The air just got still. You could feel the vibe change.” When he left his father the day before, Bob called Ziggy to him, saying, “Young Bob, I have a song for you,” leaving him with these words: “On your way up, take me up. On your way down, don’t let me down.”

This year marks the 25th anniversary of Bob’s passing. And in those two and a half decades, Marley’s iconicity has ballooned. At the time of his passing, the singer made the lion’s share of his earnings from tours. Today, his recordings having taken on an immortality, delivering his estate unimaginable wealth. His influence and dreaded, raised-fist, spliff-toking images are everywhere, his face splashed across the chests of young people from Kingston to Tokyo. Since his death, Marley’s messages of unity and equal rights have been not only received but felt in the far corners of the globe. Posthumously, he’s not only become the first truly global superstar, but an internationally recognized symbol of freedom, peace, love and rebellion.

Says author Vivien Goldman, “He has outstripped the role of rock star. He has just transcended that, his role as messenger and shaman have come into full effect. And it’s something that could not have been manipulated with marketing. It’s literally a case that people are hungry for what Bob Marley has to give and the truth that he told, and the manner in which he expressed them.”

On this, the silver anniversary of his passing, we remember Marley by speaking to his friends, band members, peers and admirers about his influence, his impact on Jamaica and on the world, and why his music seems destined to live forever.

INFLUENCE

Marcia Griffiths, I-Threes: I went all over the world with Bob and, after he died, I went back to all these places, and saw that all the seeds were sown, all had grown and blossomed. I was amazed that this man’s work was not in vain, because everywhere I turned, it was Bob Marley, and people were just so conscious and aware. Some time ago, I was at the airport. I had missed my flight, and there were two little boys in the airport from the Middle East, and they had their headphones on all day. They were there waiting for the same flight, and I started talking with their father. It turned out that those two little boys – one was eight, one was nine – they were listening to Bob Marley, and they weren’t even able to speak proper English!

Family Man: Up ‘til today, people say, “You guys don’t know what you do for us: You changed my life.” People say they even name their kids after us. And people who talk stuff like that is of all age, young people, middle-age people and golden-age people.

Burning Spear: Bob, to me… I don’t even know how to explain it. What I’m doing today is because of Bob. Maybe if I didn’t bump into Bob in 1969, back in the parish [of St. Ann’s], where both of us came from, it’s possible I wouldn’t be here today doing what I am doing. I can remember when I bump into Bob. Him dreadlock was just start springing. He was going to his farm with his donkey, and all these plants he was going to be planting that day, and we stand there for a good while, and was reasoning about Rastafari, the roots, the culture, the history. I ask Bob where I could get started in the business, and Bob asked if I knew Studio One, and to be honest, I didn’t even know Kingston [laughter] – I told him the truth – and he give me all the information, and the address and stuff like that, and told me to check Mr. [Coxsone] Dodd, and I just follow the instruction as Bob say. Since that time, the Spear been burning. And all these things – what I’m doing today – it’s coming from Bob. It’s coming through Bob.

Matisyahu: He was a person who was very, very strong and rooted in his faith, his culture and his religion and he wasn’t afraid to show that to the world – and he did. For me, growing up, Bob Marley was the main influence in my life to make me feel that I could be religious and I could be Jewish, and be strong and hold firm in that and still make music that is universal, music that everyone could connect to.

IMPACT

Chris Blackwell: He was the person who brought the most attention to both Jamaica and the music. In a sense, he is sort of a tangible representation of what is really great about Jamaica.

Junior Marvin: People who grew up in the ghetto, like himself, he showed them that because you were born in a certain predicament, doesn’t mean you have to stay that way. If you endeavor to do good and treat people well, things will happen for you. He gave people hope.

Damian “Jr. Gong” Marley: One of the most important contributions that my father made to Jamaican society was the acceptance of Rastas in modern society. Rastas were looked down upon by society, and because of my father’s success internationally it really made Jamaica have to look at itself, and its discrimination against its own people. Originally, Rastas were secluded from day-to-day society. At one point in time, if you had dreadlocks, a policeman in Jamaica could hold you, beat you, shave you, kill you.

Ziggy Marley: He had an impact on politics whereas the politicians got afraid of him, and I know in that time, the political situation in Jamaica was a very serious thing, especially to America, because we were so close to Cuba. At that time – in the ‘70s – communism was in Cuba and [there was a fear] it might take over Jamaica. And at that time, Bob got the respect and the ear of a lot of what we call in Jamaica the area leaders, the henchmen of the politicians. He was kind of a part of a revolution to bring the youths from under the control of the politics and the politicians. So there was a certain fear of what he could do to the youth in Jamaica and that was of concern, both to the leaders of Jamaica, and the politics of Jamaica, as well as the politics of the CIA, wanting to influence Jamaica.

David Hinds, Steel Pulse: He was a catalyst for a music form where everyone was looking for the betterment of mankind, as opposed to watching their wallets, or looking out for the Joneses – not looking at material things, but more at the spiritual aspect of things.

Raymond Wolfe, Jamaica’s delegate to the United Nations: The United Nations really preaches the message of universality, sovereign equality and the mix of all cultures working as one, for the benefit of mankind. And if you look across the length and breadth of Marley’s lyrics, his best encapsulates what the U.N. is about – the whole world coming together for a cause, not withstanding all the blemishes and problems that exist.

Toots Hibbert: Everything he’s done – everything – was a great contribution to Jamaica and to the world. He wrote good songs, and he’s really missed.

Burning Spear: He show Jamaican musicians that it can work, that we can go places, and we can become what we want to become in the music business. If many of these young singers today would just follow that instruction Bob lay out, they’d be surprised to see the kind of recognition – international recognition – our music would be getting.

IMMORTALITY

Chris Blackwell: Why does his music live on and get rediscovered by new generations? Strangely, because it’s still kind of underground: It’s still not in your face. There’s still a sense of discovery to it.

Bunny Wailer: The music that The Wailers brought to the people, the common people, is something that they could hold onto in their struggles, and their resistance against certain kinds of regimes and governments and whatever that held them in a kind of oppressive way, and the music gave them the kind of inspiration that they need to put up a fight, to have reasons to put up a fight. Ya know, these days, these common people are facing more and more devastation, as the leaders of the world seem to be creating these kind of situations. They are going through all these kinds of hardships and oppression. So the music keeps growing as all of that situation grows, because people need something to hang onto, to give them the will.

Curt Goering, Amnesty International: The message and the music are both universal. These songs of hope, of freedom, of dignity, these are universal aspirations, and they speak to people of different generations.

Burning Spear: When Bob put his song together, he didn’t just put his song together for some people, he put his song together for all the people of the world. That is why Bob ended up being loved by all the people of the world. And that is why Bob music will never pass away.

Bunny Wailer Looks Back

At 59 years old, Bunny Livingston, or Bunny Wailer, is as close as any one man comes to genuine Jamaican royalty. As a teenager, Livingston co-founded The Wailin’ Wailers vocal-ska trio with Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, unaware at the time of just how meaningful their union would become. With The Wailers on the cusp of a breakthrough, Bunny left Marley and Tosh in 1974, eager to spread his creative wings and at odds with the direction being provided by Island Records boss Chris Blackwell. Tosh would depart soon after. Since Marley’s passing in 1981, and Tosh’s slaying in 1987, Bunny exists as our only living link to the original lineup of reggae’s greatest group.

Early on, did you, Peter and Bob discuss what you wanted to accomplish with the music? Was there a goal?

We wanted to establish a music that we loved and believed in… We spoke about the social, spiritual, moral – all of the different areas of people’s lives, globally – especially to the struggling people of the world. So we knew there was a place for the music, because there were those people who the music related to. So it had to go to them.

Do you remember the first time you felt like The Wailers were destined for something bigger?

It was always kind of a magical situation. Every time we appeared anywhere there was something that happened to us, there were signs that, yes, The Wailers were destined for greatness. But we didn’t let that get to our ego.

When was the last time you spoke to Bob?

We spoke when he was in Germany.

What was the last thing you said to him?

I told him to come home if he wasn’t feeling well. If he didn’t see the improvement based on the treatment he was getting, he should come home and let us treat him, because we have all kinds of herbs here and people who know how to deal with the matter. But, unfortunately, he didn’t make it.

Had they lived, would you, Bob and Peter have reunited?
Well, that was on the agenda, prior to Bob’s passing. We knew that there was still some serious work to be done that required the unification of The Wailers. Although we were individuals doing what we were doing – and doing a good job of it – we knew that once a Wailer, always a Wailer.

Has it ever become somewhat of a burden, being the only living original Wailer since 1987? Does it ever feel strange?

The thing about it is, it’s lonely, to have been with brothers and they passed like that. But I comfort myself with memories. They stay with you and they never die. So when I’m in my kind of a lonely mood, I can always go right back into my memory bank, and I can reminisce in those moments when the Wailers were together, sharing all the different experiences, and making good music for the world.

What do you miss most about Bob and Peter?

Everything.