Peanuts In My Pocket

I woke up thinking about Bob Marley & The Wailers after sleeping late and waking to the sound of birdsong. I started singing “Three Little birds” as soon as my feet hit the floor. I remembered this short Facebook essay from 2020 and thought I would repost it.

1981 Part II – Bob Marley

Bob Marley died on May 11, 1981. At the time, I wasn’t a fan. I only knew his music through covers performed by others. By 1981, his creative work was finished, and aside from the posthumous Confrontation and a few live albums, nothing new would be added to his legacy. Yet only months after his passing, I became a fan.

It started with tapes borrowed from the local library. By July I was digging deeper, listening to songs like “Could You Be Loved” and “Redemption Song,” which had found their way onto local alternative radio. The more I listened, the more I was drawn in. Marley’s music became a constant presence in my life, and it never faded.

Marley led me into reggae’s wider world. My first step was Black Uhuru’s Red, with the unforgettable “Youth of Eglington” and “Sponji Reggae.” From there I discovered Earl Sixteen through the Reggae Sounds album and became a lifelong fan. I even saw him live years later. His music always delivered.

Next came Burning Spear. Their debut was difficult to track down at the time, so I taped much of Living Dub Volume 2 from a radio station. I listened to it while working on a B-52 in the Air Force. My sergeant thought the music meant I was smoking ganja and ordered a drug test. I passed, though I still ended up mowing lawns for weeks because of my “attitude.”

From there the list only grew: Steel Pulse, Wailing Souls, Aswad, Bunny Wailer, Mighty Diamonds, Gregory Isaacs, Mikey Dread. Reggae became the music of my soul. My sons still don’t understand.