Marley and Me

Hit me with music
Brutalize me with music

—Bob Marley

I’ve got a huge Bob Marley tapestry on my office wall and a Bob Marley t shirt in my drawer and even a Bob Marley bucket hat in a tote otherwise filled with way too many cheesy baseball caps. I had the Legend record on LP and the Live! record on CD, and I even read Timothy White’s Marley bio Catch a Fire. I can pick out a mean version of Redemption Song over beers on the back porch and felt immensely proud of myself the day I figured out the I Shot the Sheriff riff. In other words, I am absolutely insufferable.

I am a small piece of the puzzle as to why Bob Marley remains underrated despite being just about everywhere. The boardwalk heads and the college bros getting dorm-room-stoned to Three Little Birds know as much about Marley as the hipsters in their Nirvana tees know about Kurt Cobain. He’s become more of a fashion statement than bandleader. Any excuse to smoke weed and pretend to “understand the struggle” features his soundtrack. He’s become Che Guevara with a Les Paul.