Music

A classic Marley double entendre — “we can make it work” wrapped up in a parable about the relentlessness of constantly having to work to get by — “Work” is about as simple as Marley would get when he wasn’t singing about love, but it’s the groove and musicianship here that stand out. If the concept is simple, the delivery is anything but — a hallmark of what makes his music so enduring after all this time. Listen here.

A bitter track about oppression and exploitation wrapped up in a ‘70s wah-guitar rhythm, “Want More” is a classic showcase of how Marley was always able to deliver occasionally devastatingly damning indictments of modern society in ways that snuck by those who weren’t listening carefully. His melodies wrap around themselves and cascade up and down through the song, providing a classic delivery system for his revolutionary worldview. Listen here.

“Trenchtown Rock” has become one of Marley’s more iconic songs, despite it not showing up on any of his studio albums. “Trench Town,” off the final Marley album Confrontation in 1983, is more of a grassroots plea on behalf of the people around whom he grew up, with lyrics about the difficulty and desolation of the neighborhood with which he came to be associated. “We free the people with music” is a guiding principle of how he looked to what he did, and it’s a fitting hook on which to hang his cap. Listen here.

The second track on the first Wailers album for Island, “Slave Driver” is straightforward and to the point in its messaging and rhythm, setting the tone and blueprint for what would come over the next decade. This is a good place to acknowledge that just about every Marley album cut is worthy of this list — “Concrete Jungle,” the album’s opener, showcases the group’s raw power, for instance — but this is the first selection for how it displays the near-perfect way that the voices of Marley, Bunny Wailer and Peter Tosh blend together in their harmonies. Light and dark, heavy and easy, all at once. Listen here.

A good storytelling song from the original Wailers. This one is just good fun all around. Listen here.

A throwback to the classic form, as the title might imply, but with a little snarling electric guitar thrown in for good measure. Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a message any deeper than celebrating the genesis. Listen here.

A Peter Tosh showcase, both written and sung, the song is another that showcases the trio’s vocal work together — particularly the soaring harmonies after Tosh pleads to “make a move” — amid a particularly heavy subject. It’s the formula that the Wailers, and especially Tosh, would eventually perfect over the first few albums. Listen here.

There are a few songs that are more compelling musically (the traditional “Rasta Man Chant” comes to mind) on Burnin’ than “Small Axe,” but this is a concept that echoes through several Marley songs throughout the years — that the big tree can be cut down by the small axe, that there’s nothing that can stop the people from rising up and overcoming their oppressor if the situation is right. For that reason alone it belongs on this list. Listen here.

There are several Marley songs that are more iconic live than in the studio — “No Woman, No Cry” being the obvious example — and “Burnin’ and Lootin’,” despite lending the Burnin’ album its title, has to be among them. The way the bass and organ mesh is much more devastating when given the space to breathe of a live stage setting, and makes the song that much heavier than it ever could be in the studio. Lyrically, it’s a call to smash the systems of power — a theme that is omnipresent across his catalog. Listen here.

There is certainly an interesting juxtaposition to this song musically; the opening organ chords and lackadaisical guitar chording seem almost dissonant with the shift that takes place in the chorus, which, especially live, gets aggressive quickly. It’s one of those Marley songs that is so potent in its bare-bones essentials but seems a little bit too glitzy on the record given its subject matter, as if it was maybe overthought in the studio. Strip it to its core and it’s one of Bob’s best. Listen here.

The first track off the final album released during Marley’s lifetime, “Coming In From The Cold” is a classic Marley creation — an upbeat melody and groove with an instantly memorable hook that also asks, “Would you let the system make you kill your brother man?” Listen here.

I’ll let Cedella Marley take this one. “That song is more relevant now than it was when he actually did it,” she told Billboard in April 2020. “That’s all on him. It’s not one of daddy’s most popular songs, but I think going through this pandemic it’s become one of those songs that people are kind of singing to themselves, you know? And then if you listen to the lyrics — ‘All we have to do is give a little’ — that’s basically what we really have to do as we go through this. I think this has brought us all closer together as human beings, where we see that we’re so much alike.” Listen here.

Tempting to include “Africa Unite” given its symbolism and message of hope, but “Top Rankin’” is grittier and more real, not to mention more straightforward in its message: “They don’t want to see us unite / All they want us to do is keep on fussing and fighting / They don’t want to see us live together / All they want us to do is keep on killing one another.” Plus, the chorus is fraught with emotion, showcasing Bob’s vocals in a way most aren’t used to hearing. Listen here.

Maybe one of Bob’s most important songs, given its message about poverty and hunger and the class pressures and anger that arise from it. Another classic Marley bait-and-switch: you could easily listen to this song and walk away singing to yourself, “We’re gonna dance to Jah music, dance,” rather than absorbing the fact that he’s talking about the conditions that spark talk of revolution against the rich. Listen here.

It’s hard to talk about “Them Belly Full” without talking about “Rebel Music,” so often are they paired together — and not just on the Natty Dread album, but in live sets, too. “Rebel Music,” with its wailing harmonica and pseudo-falsetto, is a little more on the nose than the other, and is a more adventurous musical composition, too; Natty Dread is full of fantastic bass lines, as “Lively Up Yourself” can attest. But these two tracks might as well be attached at the hip. Listen here.

The concept of Babylon, which runs through Marley’s entire catalog, represents the system of oppression that exists to keep the poor in their place and the wealthy and privileged in positions of power. So what better way to break the system than through music — and, more specifically, through reggae music? Its melody catches the mind immediately, leading to a thesis statement of sorts: “Reggae music / Chant down Babylon.” Listen here.

It’s easy to dig the song’s groove, with its horns, casual rhythm and cutting hook — “Everywhere is war” — and miss exactly what Marley is saying throughout. It’s not lyrics, per se, so much as it is an almost word-for-word recitation of a speech Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie delivered to the United Nations in 1963, and the verses therefore serve as almost a warning — until things get better, the pressure will not let up. In a live setting the track becomes almost apocalyptic, a show-stopper for sure. Listen here.

This is a great early example of the musicianship of the Wailers, and how the different layers and textures of the group could add up to something greater than the sum of their parts. The opening section, with its underlying organ and piano and haunting vocals give off an ominous vibe, before the reggae-rhythm of the guitar kicks it into a traveling groove. But it’s Aston “Family Man” Barrett’s bass that really stands out, with its adventurous lines giving the song a different dimension. Lyrically, it’s almost cliche, but the emotion in Bob’s voice saves it from that fate. And it’s a killer groove live. Listen here.

From the initial fade-in to how Marley’s vocals seem almost distant to the lead guitar somewhere in the reverb-soaked background, “Natural Mystic” creeps up on you in a way that mists its potency. And that’s what makes it so great — you’re already deeply invested in its vibe and feel before you realize he’s talking about troubles so universal they may as well be about any number of situations. Listen here.

And, of course, Marley’s tribute to weed itself, for which Kaya is a nickname and the namesake of an album. It’s a simple song, but another earworm that can be impossible to shake. There was some pushback against the Wailers when this album was released, given its decidedly less-revolutionary rhetorical, but there are some gorgeous tracks regardless, and “Kaya” is one. Listen here.

Of course, Marley can never be fully separated from reggae, but every now and then he would branch out into different styles. And “Johnny Was” is just a good, old-fashioned soul song, with Bob and the I-Threes — made up of Rita Marley, Judy Mowatt and Marcia Griffiths — lamenting the life of a good man shot down in the streets. It also has some of Bob’s most adventurous singing as he ad-libs around the lyrics, showcasing how much he’d picked up from his early years covering American and British hits for Jamaican audiences before he settled on his own sound. Listen here.

About as classic a 1-4-5 progression as it gets, there’s not much that’s especially groundbreaking or revolutionary about this track. But there’s something to be said for simplicity, and the carefree feel of hook — “Yes me friend / Them say we free again” — is the audio form of hanging out with your best friends on a Saturday afternoon in the summer with nothing to do and nowhere to be. Listen here.

Stoners, unite! An easy-going classic that kicks off Marley’s lightest, but also among many most beloved, album, Kaya, it’s an iconic Marley track if only for the opening line, “Excuse me while I light my spliff / Good God, I gotta take a lift / From reality I just can’t drift / That’s why I’m stayin’ with this riff / Take it easy.” Breezy and beautiful. Listen here.

Editor’s note: The 2002 deluxe edition of Legend includes this song.

How is this song not on Legend?? Marley wrote plenty about love, but never really like this. An iconic ballad. Listen here.

Throughout his career Marley made a habit of dressing up soul songs with reggae elements. “One Drop” is a late-career classic in this regard, with just about everything a true fan would come to love about the Marley canon: an earnest vocal, earworm melodies, lyrics that burrow deep in the psyche before revealing their righteous indignation on behalf of the common man, double (and even triple) entendre with a social, religious and militant edge, and a truly great musical performance from the band and backup singers. It’s one that I keep coming back to, even over others that I’ve professed to love much more. Listen here.

One of the best bass lines in the entire Wailers oeuvre with one of its simplest grooves spells the right recipe for this dub, which could extend forever and no one would complain. Another track that is simply better live despite its great studio version, it’s a true ode to the feel and spirit of the music, and it’s got a case for being one of the best. Listen here.

Of all the gems in Marley’s deeper catalog, “Time Will Tell” arguably shines the brightest. Again, it’s a simple song, reliant on Marley’s vocal that is at once assured and almost fragile, and it’s in that juxtaposition that so much emotion is expressed. It also has no better endorsement than that of Chris Blackwell, the founder of Island Records who signed Bob and the Wailers in the early ’70s, who has called “Time Will Tell” his favorite Marley song — and he would know. Listen here.

A feel-good groove underscores this earworm, which will also get stuck in your head for its second-verse introduction of the popular Jamaican phrase “cool runnings,” nearly a decade before the Jamaican bobsled team made history at the 1988 Winter Olympics and were immortalized in the 1993 John Candy film. Listen here.

Tough to peg as a deep cut since its opening lyric — “One good thing about music, when it hits, you feel no pain” — is such an iconic Marley quote. But it also never wound up on any of his studio albums, existing largely through live versions like Live! and Live at the Roxy. As a show opener it’s a hell of a statement, and its groove is irresistible — plus, that opening line. It’s about as classic as a Marley song could be. Listen here. 

Probably Marley’s most famous song not the be included on the Legend album, and I’m not sure why it wasn’t — maybe the references to Jesus Christ and Marcus Garvey were too much amid the love and light of the rest of the track list. But this song is without a doubt a top five Wailers track of all time, and a top two personal favorite of mine. There are times when Marley could say so much through so little, whether through a lyric that could mean so many things to so many different people, or even simple vocal inflection — and this is that personified. Listen here.