I am the son and the hair ...
Damian Marley's famous surname helps, but his music is strong enough to stand up on its own
Kitty Empire
Sunday March 5, 2006
The Observer
There are two ways of bearing the yoke of a famous parent. One is to change your name and go into another line of business. Another is to throw up your hands and follow in their footsteps, trading on the guarantees of genes and continuity as dynasties of bakers or butchers or, indeed, bards once did.
You'll have heard of Damian's dad, the reggae totem, pop star and patron saint of Jamaica. Damian, the 'Junior Gong', isn't remotely coy about the Bob thing. He may have only been two when Marley Senior died of cancer in 1981, and his mother was a beauty queen rather than Mrs Rita Marley, the clan matriarch. But everything about Damian points to his status as reggae royalty.
There's his name, Junior Gong, a reference to his dad's Tuff Gong studios and label. There's his waist-length dreadlocks, hanging free tonight, and his Rastafarianism. His elder half-brother, Stephen, is his producer. In case anyone was in any doubt where Damian, Bob and reggae hailed from, there is a man wearing a Jamaican flag sweatband onstage whose sole job it is to wave a large Jamaican flag around while Marley and his band play. Most bluntly, there's the interpolation of Marley Senior's 'Exodus' in Junior Gong's 'Move!', and his somewhat unnecessary cover of 'Could You Be Loved'.
Although it must have been useful in opening doors three albums ago when Junior Gong began his recording career, the Bob thing cannot sustain interest in Damian on its own. The short-lived careers of his elder brothers - remember Ziggy Marley and The Melody Makers? - are testament to that. Fortunately, tonight, Marley proves he can be his own man, and that his crossover success is deserved.
Everyone has come to hear Marley do 'Welcome To Jamrock', the single that last year swept like brushfire through the reggae world, into US urban radio and beyond. Catchy and impassioned, it singlehandedly rekindled American hip hop's on-off affair with the Caribbean. Kanye West has gone on record saying he'd trade anything off his own album for 'Jamrock's depiction of the escalating lawlessness in Kingston. Of course, Marley saves his hit for the end of the encore, rewinding it a couple of times to shouts and UK garage-style 'boo!'s of happy approval.
Marley is at his most appealing in this righteous vein, finger pointing at the sky, exhorting the crowd to jump up; his military jacket, scratchy beard and bluster giving him the air of a guerrilla agitator. 'Confrontation', the opening track on both album and tonight's set, is another volley of imprecation. The hectic 'Move!' is actually rather better than its reliance on 'Exodus' might imply; take out his dad's chorus and the song still stands.
The hundredweight of words that comes out of Marley's mouth during this one-and-a-half-hour set is another reason to respect him. He could probably hold down one of Shakespeare's meatier roles without much effort. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether Marley is rewinding - a great reggae habit that should be spread to more genres; when a bit of a song is good, why not sing it three times in a row? - or fluffing his lines. Marley's air of authority points towards the former, though.
His lyrics repay the close attention rewinding allows. You don't expect the austere Rasta to be funny, but 'Hey Girl' is full of references to internet chat rooms and Blue Mountain cappuccinos. 'She said, "Junior you're a genius/You think with your mind and not your peanuts",' he puns at one point. Songs like 'In Too Deep' and 'For The Babies', meanwhile, reveal a moral vigour that's something more than just the traditional Babylon-bashing of reggae artists. Marley is pro-condoms, anti-pesticides, pro-fathers shouldering responsibility for their kids (at one point urging dads to take nippers to 'karate and ballet t'ing').
Although the fiery mood suits him best, Marley has other useful gears, carrying his intensity into slower-paced songs like 'Road To Zion'. He is decidedly not a stand-alone MC but comes backed by a solid band - drums, bass, guitar, two keyboard players-cum-black-box-triggerers - and flanked by a pair of backing vocalists who sing counterpoint, choruses and hooks with relish. Well-drilled and dramatic, Rovieta Fraser and Roselyn Williams electrify a performance that might otherwise flag.
Will he be a one-hit wonder? You hope not. Even if subsequent singles fail to match the impact of 'Welcome To Jamrock', Damian Marley can take comfort in one thing. After the floundering pop-reggae of his older brothers, he has given back the Marley name some of its potency.
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