Friday 2/21/03
During the late 1950’s in Trenchtown, Jamaica, a young Robert Nesta Marley stepped forward to follow his dream of becoming a musician.
Some 50 years later, we still gather to honor this undoubtedly famous Rastafarian. Bob Marley’s influence is as timeless as it is crucial, forever changing the world of reggae music.
Carving a path for many ska and reggae artists to follow, Bob Marley’s legacy and spirituality leave music listeners all over the globe craving more. Putting an eerie ending to the workweek, The Warfield hosted Bob Marley Day, an event commemorating Marley’s life and accomplishments. His sons; Julian, Stephen and Damian Marley, shared the headlining spot that evening, while opening act, Wailing Souls played steadfastly as the house filled to capacity.
I was perched above in the balcony, staring out at the fanatic congregation, a sea of mostly white high school students, smoking the theater into a hazy cloud. They twirled in the aisles and danced on their seats, while others, unfortunately passed out in their glory. The Justice League, San Francisco’s mecca for hip-hop, hosted this event in 2002. In attendance for both shows, the Warfield and Justice League attracted two entirely different crowds, demographically. Two keyboardists, a bassist, guitarist, drummer, and two backup singers scattered around the stage, supporting the three brothers who played separate sets until the end of the evening, when they assembled for a special encore.
Each brother performed original music: Julian’s steeped more into dancehall, Damian’s added more dub and rap, while Stephen’s hinted back at the roots of reggae. Pleasingly, they also covered a few of Marley’s most fruitful works. During the renditions of “Three Little Birds,” “Exodus,” “Soul Rebel” and “Reggae Music,” it felt as though Marley was there with us.
In striking patois accents, they constantly reiterated their hope for peace and love. The wholesome goodness of which they evoked, the swanky sounds that spilled out into the night, traveled with all, as the crowd gradually filed back out into the cold, dark city-each one of us properly satiated yet eager for next years event.
If you like: Bob Marley, The Fugees, Shaggy
Try: Damian, Julian or Stephen Marley
Saturday 2/23/03
Any given Saturday night in San Francisco is humming with life: crisp dark air slowly blankets the city, a brigade of cars pass down Van Ness Avenue, revelers in boas or with skateboards carefully make their way to the next bar.
After a brief brush with luck, I find parking on the same block of my destination, a rarity in the city, more so, in this particular area of the Marina District. Formerly housing rock music and frat boy clientele, Mick’s Lounge closed its doors nearly five years ago to make way for the new and improved Tongue & Groove. The 21 and over bar and nightclub regularly features local bands and DJ’s with the occasional touring act.
Reputable for their exceptional weekend shows, stopping in on this particular Saturday evening proved a rewarding bet. The soulful stylings of D.J.’s Platurn (Oakland Faders Collective) and Centipede permeated the air. After working everybody into a bubbling bliss, the DJs stepped aside for headlining act, O-Maya to carry out the night.
The individual talents that comprise ten-piece local group, O-Maya, boost them into veteran status, though the band itself has only been performing the last two years. With keyboards, accordion, guitar, bass, trumpet, percussion, drums and timbales they crowd the stage, barely leaving room for vocalists, Jorge Martinez and Destani Wolf and “reporter of the people” emcee Rico Pabon (Prophets of Rage). As if mad scientists with musical ADHD, O-Maya draws from reggae, dancehall, salsa, cumbia, samba, old school, afro Cuban, hip hop, beat box, Mexican and Puerto Rican folkloric music crowd participation becomes inevitable, as they send the masses gyrating into the night.
“In every song, we are telling some type of story,” Pabon said. “We party and have a goodtime but it is also important to us to keep that element of consciousness in our songs. We are trying to reach the world. We [as a band] have a very revolutionary spirit in a warm way, and with genuine emotion.
“We sing about people freeing themselves. Our lyrics are something we can pass onto our children, and they should be filled with light and hope…documenting what we have gone through as people, to let them know that we are not just a shadow of the past, but also of what the future could be.”
With undeniable character and heightened social consciousness, O-Maya succeeds at what many a band set out to do with diminishing results: at 2 a.m., they send their crowd home in a sweaty, in a worn out state, bodies and minds equally engaged from a night of excellent music.
If you like: Buena Vista Social Club, KRS-One, Ozomatli
Try: O-Maya