The Wailers
Although the recent cold snap was slowly releasing its grip on the city, Downtown was still suffering through the extreme effects of the polar vortex Thursday night, with snowdrifts obscuring the usual walkways and hurried pedestrians struggling to avoid the stinging wind. Inside of the Pabst Theater, however, the mood was altogether different. Instead of shielding themselves from bone-chilling, sub-zero temperatures, the audience was practically basking in the warm Kingston sun courtesy of the legendary Wailers, who celebrated their spiritual father Bob Marley’s birthday with a fiery reaffirmation of his core beliefs and, of course, his greatest hits as well.
As the band took the stage, cloaked, suggestively enough, by an overworked smoke machine and green lighting, the audience was still staggering in, shivering and looking for someplace to stash their winter coats. Soon though, nearly everyone in attendance had seemingly forgotten about the atmospheric hell that mercilessly awaited them all outside, quickly succumbing to the insistent skanking rhythm. Most had clearly bought their tickets in advance with little thought to what the weather might be like, but few seemed reluctant to follow through with the purchase and the excitement was still running high.
To the crowd’s evident delight, the two-hour program stuck mostly to Marley’s most celebrated output. Those who came expecting hits, even if their knowledge of reggae begins and ends with Legend, likely did not walk away disappointed with “Is This Love,” “Three Little Birds,” “Buffalo Soldiers,” “Get Up, Stand Up” and nearly all of the other usual suspects making their way into the mix. As relentlessly overplayed as these tunes are, though, the band still manages to make them seem vital, thanks in part to the song’s enduring strength and in part because they’re still delivered with the utmost conviction.
Given Marley’s vast discography, easy crowd-pleasers could have taken up the whole night but the Wailers seemed determined to avoid the kind of nostalgia-driven karaoke vibe that ruins so many tribute shows, working in semi-obscure but still relevant tunes like “Johnny Was” or really cutting loose on something like “Exodus.” In the end, The Wailers, old and new, managed to breathe life into songs that, by repetition, we’ve all become sort of numb to and the crowd was clearly grateful to them for keeping the fire alive, even on this most frigid of nights.
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