Highly anticipated since the biopic trend took over Hollywood, the film depicting the Jamaican icon’s ascension to superstardom has been fully approved by the Marley family, with Kingsley Ben-Adir in the role of Bob and eldest son Ziggy as executive producer. To seal the deal, the label Tuff Gong has released a “soundtrack” to the film, which unsurprisingly showcases a number of Bob Marley’s hits, resembling an encore to Legend, with the eternal classics that are “Get Up, Stand Up,” “I Shot the Sheriff,” “Natural Mystic,” “Is This Love” and “Redemption Song”.We also hear the famous version of “No Woman, No Cry” at London’s Rainbow Theatre on June 4, 1977 – a concert that was seized upon for reissues in both 2020 and 2022. From the film, we also find “So Jah S’eh” and a version of “War/No More Trouble” with backing vocals by Naomi Cowan in place of the I-Threes, the new sensation of Jamaican reggae incarnating Marcia Griffiths in the film, and Anna-Sharé Blake, protégée of Protoje, playing Judy Mowatt. On keyboard for this version is Aston Barrett Junior, who takes on the role of his father, Family Man, legendary bassist, orchestra conductor, and scorned composer of the Wailers, who passed away February 3rd, 2024, a few days before the release of One Love, and whose immense career would also be deserving of its own film. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Every musician has their standout record, but Exodus is so much more than that for Bob Marley. Not only did this album propel the singer to whole new heights, but it also tells the story of an artist turned statesman. It’s 1976: Bob Marley thinks he’s reached the pinnacle of his career after Eric Clapton reveals his name to the world after covering his song I Shot the Sheriff. After the departure of Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer two years earlier, Bob Marley is the sole captain of his ship and has become a star in Jamaica, where a tumultuous election is brewing. Michael Manley, the Prime Minister, is up against Edward Seaga, a man who has the support of people living in the Tivoli Gardens district in Kingston. Seaga sent gangs to terrorise other areas of the city that didn’t favour him, and on the 3rd of December 1976, gunmen visited Bob Marley’s house. It was suspected that his political stance was leaning towards Manley, and the singer, his wife Rita and his manager Don Taylor were all shot at. Miraculously, no one died. Injured but still alive, Bob Marley took to the stage two days later at the Smile Jamaica Concert, revealing the wounds beneath his shirt and gaining popularity in the process. Despite this act of bravery, it would be his last show in Jamaica before his self-imposed exile to England.Once across the Atlantic, Bob Marley stepped into Island Studios in January 1977, as if he felt there was some kind of urgency to record his music. The album’s title, Exodus, obviously refers to his own exile, but it’s also a nod to the Rasta concept of repatriation, which advocates for a return to Africa. Feeling ultra-productive, Bob and his musicians recorded about twenty tracks, half of which were used for the following album, Kaya. Whilst the first half of the record is brimming with politically charged lyrics (Natural Mystic, Heathen and Exodus, as well as So Much Things to Say and Guiltiness), the rest is a lot more easy-going, including songs such as Waiting in Vain, Jamming and Three Little Birds. It’s clear Bob wanted to keep things as light-hearted as possible. The album concludes with the legendary Punky Reggae Party, a tribute to the reggae-infused English punk musicians. The track, with its frantic rhythm that’s worlds away from the Wailers typical sound, is a monumental moment, bringing together Lee Perry (who co-wrote the lyrics), Sly Dunbar (drums), and the members of the bands Aswad and Third World, who were also signed to Island.Upon its release, the record was an instant hit. Each single only propelled Bob Marley further into superstardom. When he finally returned to Jamaica on the 22nd of April 1978 for the One Love Peace Concert, he miraculously managed to bring enemies Michael Manley and Edward Seaga together on stage. He forced them to shake hands whilst the Wailers played the hit Jamming… a truly historical moment. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

After the success of 1974's Natty Dread and 1976's Rastaman Vibration, Bob Marley was not only the most successful reggae musician in the world, he was one of the most powerful men in Jamaica. Powerful enough, in fact, that he was shot by gunmen who broke into his home in December 1976, days before he was to play a massive free concert intended to ease tensions days before a contentious election for Jamaican Prime Minister. In the wake of the assassination attempt, Marley and his band left Jamaica and settled in London for two years, where he recorded 1977's Exodus. Thematically, Exodus represented a subtle but significant shift for Marley; while he continued to speak out against political corruption and for freedom and equality for Third World people, his lyrics dealt less with specifics and more with generalities and the need for peace and love (though "So Much Things to Say," "Guiltiness," and "The Heathen" demonstrate the bullets had taken only so much sting out of Marley's lyrics). And while songs like "Exodus" and "One Love/People Get Ready" were anthemic, they also had less to say than the more pointed material from Marley's earlier albums. However, if Marley had become more wary in his point of view (and not without good cause), his skill as a songwriter was as strong as ever, and Exodus boasted more than a few classics, including the title song, "Three Little Birds," "Waiting in Vain," and "Turn Your Lights Down Low," tunes that defined Marley's gift for sounding laid-back and incisive at once. His gifts as a vocalist were near their peak on these sessions, bringing a broad range of emotional color to his performances, and this lineup of the Wailers -- anchored by bassist Aston "Family Man" Barrett, drummer Carlton Barrett, and guitarist Julian "Junior" Murvin -- is superb, effortlessly in the pocket throughout. Exodus was recorded at a time when Bob Marley was learning about the unexpected costs of international stardom, but it hadn't yet sapped his creative strengths, and this is one of the finest albums in his stellar catalog.© Mark Deming /TiVo

When the Wailers began recording their fifth album, they were in the middle of a contract dispute with CBS, the upshot being that Catch a Fire was their first record for Island under the auspices of Chris Blackwell. The band had recorded a batch of classic songs in Jamaica, then brought the tapes to London, where Blackwell proceeded to remix them, adding rock guitars and keyboards to a handful of tracks (with the band's ultimate approval). No matter how convoluted its creation might have been, Catch a Fire is a hands-down classic album that both defines and transcends the reggae genre while bringing it to a wider audience, and it started Bob Marley on his way to becoming a global star. As much as Marley became the hero over time, Fire is a group creation where the band, singers, and songwriters all worked together to create something greater than its individual elements. Yes, Marley wrote most of the songs and sang them with a pleasing blend of warmth and strength, but without the soothing, empowering harmonies of Bunny Wailer and Peter Tosh backing him, and the at once tight and elastic bounce and strut of the band driving him forward, the album wouldn't have been nearly as good. Tosh, too, takes lead on a couple of songs: the deeply soulful, Impressions-inspired "Stop That Train" and the fierce protest song "400 Years," which shovel coals onto the fire that blazes beneath much of the record's laid-back exterior. The album is a good mixture of songs like that -- as well as "Concrete Jungle" and "Slave Driver" -- that make the listener want to shout and fight, and those that are made for times when the lights get a little lower and thoughts turn to romance. "Stir It Up" is one of these, and its echoing guitars, bubbling organ, and shimmering synths pair with Marley's aching lead and the note-perfect backing vocals to create a wonderfully slinky baby-making jam. "Baby We've Got a Date (Rock It Baby)" is a little more insistent, featuring some almost strident female vocals, but the mood is similar. The only hitch is the wandering slide guitar, a slight misstep that could have been avoided if Blackwell had left well enough alone. Another tiny stumble comes on "No More Trouble," which is the kind of vague, sloganeering song Marley became more known for once he jettisoned the other two Wailers and took center stage. It's a pretty good attempt, though, and the funky clavinet gives the song some extra bite. Regardless of these faint faults, the album holds together incredibly well as a listening experience and features the original Wailers at their angriest, toughest, and most romantic peak. Anyone looking to check out reggae at its very best -- or Bob Marley before he became an omnipresent icon -- would do well to give Catch a Fire a spin.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Perhaps Licensed to Ill was inevitable -- a white group blending rock and rap, giving them the first number one album in hip-hop history. But that reading of the album's history gives short shrift to the Beastie Boys; producer Rick Rubin, and his label, Def Jam, and this remarkable record, since mixing metal and hip-hop isn't necessarily an easy thing to do. Just sampling and scratching Sabbath and Zeppelin to hip-hop beats does not make for an automatically good record, though there is a visceral thrill to hearing those muscular riffs put into overdrive with scratching. But, much of that is due to the producing skills of Rick Rubin, a metalhead who formed Def Jam Records with Russell Simmons and had previously flirted with this sound on Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell, not to mention a few singles and one-offs with the Beasties prior to this record. He made rap rock, but to give him lone credit for Licensed to Ill (as some have) is misleading, since that very same combination would not have been as powerful, nor would it have aged so well -- aged into a rock classic -- if it weren't for the Beastie Boys, who fuel this record through their passion for subcultures, pop culture, jokes, and the intoxicating power of wordplay. At the time, it wasn't immediately apparent that their obnoxious patter was part of a persona (a fate that would later plague Eminem), but the years have clarified that this was a joke -- although, listening to the cajoling rhymes, filled with clear parodies and absurdities, it's hard to imagine the offense that some took at the time. Which, naturally, is the credit of not just the music -- they don't call it the devil's music for nothing -- but the wild imagination of the Beasties, whose rhymes sear into consciousness through their gonzo humor and gleeful delivery. There hasn't been a funnier, more infectious record in pop music than this, and it's not because the group is mocking rappers (in all honesty, the truly twisted barbs are hurled at frat boys and lager lads), but because they've already created their own universe and points of reference, where it's as funny to spit out absurdist rhymes and pound out "Fight for Your Right (To Party)" as it is to send up street corner doo wop with "Girls." Then, there is the overpowering loudness of the record -- operating from the axis of where metal, punk, and rap meet, there never has been a record this heavy and nimble, drunk on its own power yet giddy with what they're getting away with. There is a sense of genuine discovery, of creating new music, that remains years later, after countless plays, countless misinterpretations, countless rip-off acts, even countless apologies from the Beasties, who seemed guilty by how intoxicating the sound of it is, how it makes beer-soaked hedonism sound like the apogee of human experience. And maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but in either case, Licensed to Ill reigns tall among the greatest records of its time.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Voodoo Lounge confirmed that the Stones could age gracefully, but it never sounded modern; it sounded classicist. With its successor, Bridges to Babylon, Mick Jagger was determined to bring the Rolling Stones into the '90s, albeit tentatively, and hired hip collaborators like the Dust Brothers (Beck, Beastie Boys) and Danny Saber (Black Grape) to give the veteran group an edge on their explorations of drum loops and samples. Of course, the Stones are the Stones, and no production is going to erase that, but the group is smart enough -- or Keith Richards is stubborn enough -- to work within its limitations and to have producer Don Was act as executive producer. As a result, Bridges to Babylon sounds like the Stones without sounding tired. The band is tight and energetic, and there's just enough flair to the sultry "Anybody Seen My Baby?," the menacing "Gunface," and the low-key, sleazy "Might as Well Get Juiced" to make them sound contemporary. But the real key to the success of Bridges to Babylon is the solid, craftsmanlike songwriting. While there aren't any stunners on the album, nothing is bad, with rockers like "Flip the Switch" and "Low Down" sounding as convincing as ballads like "Already Over Me." And, as always, Keith contributes three winners -- including the reggae workout "You Don't Have to Mean It" and the slow-burning "How Can I Stop" -- that cap off another fine latter-day Stones record.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

His look hasn’t changed. The same goes for his cocktail of vintage rock mixed with soul and funk. And yet, Lenny Kravitz makes a clean sweep with each new project. This eleventh − self-produced − album confirms his talents as a songwriter as well as sound producer. As usual, the New York artist calls upon his elders’ legacy (Marvin Gaye, Prince, Curtis Mayfield, John Lennon, Bill Withers) to make it his own and create pure and unadulterated Kravitz sounds. Whether they are intimate and very introspective, or openly engaged to underline the planet’s woes, the songs on this 2018 vintage effortlessly zigzag between funky uppercuts, stadium anthems and dance-floor soundtracks. And on the single Low, Lenny even grants himself a marquee (virtual) guest star with an iconic cry: Michael Jackson! Unsurprising, but effective as always! © Clotilde Maréchal/Qobuz

The Chineke! Orchestra was the brainchild of Chi-Chi Nwanoku, a renowned English double bass player of Nigerian and Irish descent. Whilst chatting to Ed Vaizey, then Minister for Culture, he pointed out that she was often one of the only people of colour on stage at symphony concerts. And so, in 2015, the concept of the Chineke! Orchestra was born. This ensemble brings together a majority of Black, Asian and other ethnic minority musicians who are usually erased from the classical stage. A revolutionary orchestra, it’s only logical that, after performing Dvořák, Sibelius and Rachmaninov on Signum Classics, they’re joining forces with… Tuff Gong, the label founded by Bob Marley, to produce a record containing covers of the Jamaican icon’s songs.The roots of this particular project can be traced back to 2018, when the cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason (a member of the Chineke! Orchestra who became a bit of a star on social media following his performance at Prince Harry’s wedding) included an incredible cover of No Woman No Cry on his album Inspiration. It caught the attention of Tuff Gong, who then decided to get on board with this experimental music and produce an album on which the ensemble would cover and rearrange ten of Bob’s classic hits. To take things to the next level, the album even includes vocals by Bob Marley himself (which were provided by Island Records). As you might expect, the raw edge of the original tracks is gone—even Bob’s voice sounds softer at times—but this work highlights the undeniable pop dimension of the Wailer’s music. Plus, it gives the band a personality that’s as artistic as it is political. “I ardently believe that all genres of music should be open to absolutely everyone, so it was wonderful for Chineke! to be able to bring new orchestrations to these iconic tracks,” Chi-Chi Nwanoku concludes. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz

Reviving the Chet Faker persona he'd abandoned back in 2016, Nick Murphy finds salvation in the hypnotic grooves and dark electronic soul of Hotel Surrender. Faker's breakout 2014 debut was a chilled-out delight of crafty trip-hop beats, jazzy sway, and disarmingly rich vocals. The two follow-up records he made under his given name found the Australian singer/producer nurturing his organic pop tendencies to strong critical response but lackluster chart performance. Back in Faker mode, he wields an effortless sense of cool, assembling a set of mood pieces that are cathartic in a subtle and often joyful way. Recording in New York just as the city was entering the 2020 pandemic lockdown, Murphy was dealt an additional blow by the sudden death of his father. Shaded by tragedy and global tension, he recast his project as a form of therapy in the hopes of offering some shred of inspiration, to himself and others. Laid out like a mission statement in the spoken intro of "Oh Me Oh My," Faker intones with weary wonder "Music does something, I don't know what it does, I just accept it as the sky is blue." As the track kicks in, he delivers a tour de force full of slinky charm and quirky asides sounding like a hip-hop Andrew Bird or a bluesy Beck. Another highlight, "Low," is full of bootstrapping affirmations and eerie dub-like sonic details. As Faker rolls through dreamy electro soundscapes ("Whatever Tomorrow") and funky neo-soul ("Feel Good" and "So Long So Lonely''), he sounds more fascinated by life's turns than bummed out by them. Proof that you can't keep a good man down, Hotel Surrender is a testament to Murphy's skills as an artist and his attitude as a person.© Timothy Monger /TiVo

Cut from the same cloth as the band's 1973 Deliver the Word LP, War's 1975 Why Can't We Be Friends? is a masterpiece in its scope and breadth. And, emerging as the last work the band would do for its longtime label, United Artists, it became a fitting swansong, powering up the charts and giving War its fourth and final number one hit. In recent years, the album has been overshadowed by the monstrously popular bass-beating and bright brass of its singular hit, "Low Rider." Indeed, the song would become the band's signature theme, as the Latino street-cruiser jam quickly became a live set staple and, much later, was reinvigorated through sampling on songs by the Beastie Boys, Stereo MC's, and Offspring. However, that one track, iconographic as it is, is by no means the only treat onboard Why Can't We Be Friends? There are far more interesting and superb treats roiling in the wake of "Low Rider." The snappy title track, which poses the question of the decade and, oddly, closes the album, is a feel-good thumper. Its bright brass punctuation and rakish vocals are wonderfully combined with an absolutely contagious reggae beat. Then, add the doesn't-get-much-better-than-that medley "Leroy's Latin Lament." Divided into four "songs," the music swings from the smart vocal opening "Lonnie Dreams" to the effervescent Latin jam of "La Fiesta." And, of course, where there's War, there's funk -- this time on the seven-plus minute"Heartbeat." Wrap it all up with the poignant ballad "Lotus Blossom," and the result is pretty much perfection. Why Can't We Be Friends? remains one of War's truly outstanding efforts, and has become an integral part of the funk genre's landscape. It also remains the nightcap of their finest hour. War's ill-timed move to MCA changed the energy and focus of the band forever.© Amy Hanson /TiVo

At the close of the '90s, the Beastie Boys had only released five albums, which may not seem like enough music to provide the foundation for a double-disc retrospective. But between 1981 and 1999, they released countless B-sides, non-LP singles, and EPs, resulting in a sprawling discography ripe for a compilation. So, in 1999, the Beasties released the two-disc compilation The Sounds of Science, which covers every incarnation of the band from Pollywog Stew to Hello Nasty. Inevitably, some well-known songs are missing -- only three cuts from Licensed to Ill are here, and their breakthrough single "Rock Hard" had to be pulled when AC/DC refused permission for a sample. Ultimately, that doesn't matter, since the set captures the spirit of the Beasties so well. Usually, compilations that don't follow chronological order are a little muddled, but The Sounds of Science benefits from its jumbled sequencing, since it emphasizes the band's astonishing musical reach and consistency. After all, every album since Paul's Boutique has followed a similarly unpredictable pattern, as the group moved from hip-hop to punk to funk to jazz. What's remarkable about The Sounds of Science is that it has all the obvious suspects, but since they're rubbing singles with album tracks and B-sides like "Skills to Pay the Bills," two outtakes from the abandoned country album, alternate versions of "Jimmy James" and "Three MC's and One DJ," Fatboy Slim's brilliant remix of "Body Movin'," goofs like the Biz Markie-sung cover of "Benny and the Jets," and the excellent new single "Alive," it all sounds fresh. There's much more than hits here, but The Sounds of Science achieves something most anthologies don't: it summarizes the attitude and spirit of the band, while offering some new revelations even for dedicated fans.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

"Their creativity and effort on the album shines....Regardless if you’re a newer jazz fan or someone who owns every single Miles Davis and John Coltrane album, this is a record that is designed for the old school music connoisseur." © TiVo