By Melissa Fossum
By Lauren Wise
By New Times
By Amanda Savage
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Troy Farah
By New Times
Um, not quite. Instead – for many listeners – reggae's legacy lingers in two ways. One is the near-mandatory inclusion of at least one Bob Marley disc in every self-respecting boomer and stoner's music collection. The other tribute is more dubious, manifesting itself in the inevitable barroom yahoo who yells "Ja man!" at the first hint of a tropical bass line on the jukebox.
Those seeking something deeper owe it to themselves to track down this budget-minded Toots & the Maytals collection from U.K.-based Sanctuary Records.
The anthology documents a formidable band that got somewhat lost in Marley's overblown shadow. Vocalist Toots Hibbert never caught on in the U.S. the way Marley did. Nor did he score the Elvis-cum-Jesus fame that Marley's ghost still commands. And that's a shame, because one could argue that Toots and Company were the better band. Their writing was tight, their rhythms brawny. And few singers pack the vocal chops that Hibbert – with his powerful, burlap-wrapped-in-silk tone – displays on every recording.
The Maytals came up through the same droning ska roots that most Jamaican bands – including the Wailers – did in the early 1960s. But all that changed for the Maytals when they cut the scary "54-46, That's My Number" – where Hibbert recounts his own life of crime and incarceration. After that, there was no turning back. Darker and even more unnerving classics, such as "Pressure Drop," "Struggle" and the apocalyptic "Funky Kingston," soon followed.
All of that and more is collected here, but it's not all Third World-noir. Toots could just as easily fall into a soulful groove, such as the one he demonstrates on the transplanted cover of John Denver's "(Take Me Home) Country Roads."
You can almost feel the sand between your toes.