Why is Bob Marley given a free pass from liberal music writers despite his sexism, anti-semitism, and homophibia?

otherwise, this thread's just guilt by association and worthless slander.

unlike any other musical luminary.

That's why I asked if it counted! But who did the calling out and did they ever change their mind? I honestly don't know.

Oh sorry, I misread that. Never mind.

Ask Tony Parsons and Cosmo Landesman.

yeah i read that and they weren't really being homophobic as such.. just saying that they couldn't understand gay men cos (in their opinion) women are so much sexier.

Plus, the guy's a doofus for letting Griff back into the group, not just because Griff's a dick, but because Griff is so remarkably untalented to the point of distraction.

But I still love PE, dagnabit!

from my blog...

New piece in The Guardian. It's a more manageable version of that walloping great big transcript of the Ce'Cile interview I posted a while back.

More than any other, 2003 has been dancehall reggae’s year. Thanks largely to huge hits from Sean Paul and Wayne Wonder, this previously underground musical style has risen to unprecedented prominence in both the UK and United States, cementing its position as a vital and viable mainstream genre. However, despite the emergence of such top-ten-friendly figures, it has struggled to shake off a reputation as a male-dominated arena, rife with misogyny and the kind of homophobia that prompted gay-rights activist Peter Tatchell to call for the arrest of performers Beenie Man, Elephant Man and Bounty Killer at September’s Mobo Awards.
Although this criticism is to a certain extent justified, female “deejays” – as dancehall vocalists are known – including Patra, Tanya Stephens and Lady Saw, have long taken up a contrary, subversive position, providing a liberated feminine voice in a predominantly testosterone-driven sphere. The latest and most outspoken example is that of Ce’Cile Charlton.
Having signed with Los Angeles’ Delicious Vinyl for the release of her forthcoming album, Bad Gyal, this 27-year-old is widely tipped as the woman most likely to capitalise on dancehall’s recent upsurge in popularity. Meeting at a small recording studio in suburban Valley Stream, Long Island, as she completes her debut long-player, the artist, known simply as Ce’Cile, clearly wishes to see her “gal-power” anthems reach the international stage. “Well, I want my work to get to as many people as possible and I’m hoping, because of what’s happening in dancehall, that I will get a little more exposure now,” she says. “But I think that goes for every musician. If not, though, we’ll still be here and nothing will change. We’ll keep doing what we’ve always done and carry on making the music we love.”
Charlton’s sense of assurance can be attributed to her background as the daughter of a respected family from the affluent town of Mandeville, Jamaica. She is something of an anomaly in the island’s music industry. Like Sean Paul, who was born into one of Kingston’s oldest and wealthiest families, she comes from a comfortable home, but she also systematically and single-mindedly pursued her career from the inside rather than battling her way through Kingston’s hardscrabble recording scene.
After a preliminary foray into roots reggae working with Third World’s Ibo Cooper, a family friend, she fell in love with the tougher sound of dancehall and eventually secured an apprenticeship with renowned producer Steven Ventura at the Kingston-based Celestial Sounds studio. “That was the best decision I ever made,” she says. “I met everyone I wanted to on a business level and got the chance to learn everything I needed to, especially how to produce records. The main thing was that I eventually wanted to be independent, but I had to be taught these things first.”
Here she set about defining her signature “singjay” vocal style: a blend of honeyed melody and rapid-fire rapping delivered in heavy patois, otherwise known as “chatting” or “toasting”. “I used to sing like a little girl,” Charlton laughs. “Starting out, I listened to Tanya Stephens and Lady Saw and older singers like Chevelle Franklin. They were much more interesting than the pretty singing that I did. They sounded ‘street’ to me, so I built up that vibe and began chatting hardcore dancehall from there.”
Leaving Celestial Sounds with a wealth of knowledge and determined to make it on her own terms, Charlton’s breakthrough hit came in 2001. Her self-produced single, Changes, was rhythmically inventive, catchy and a shot across the bow of dancehall’s macho braggadocio, light-heartedly lampooning the music’s biggest male names with unflattering speculation on their bedroom performance. Naturally, it was immensely popular and won her many female fans.
“It was meant to make people laugh,” Charlton says. “That’s why I think women liked it so much. We appreciate those sorts of jokes more than men, with their big egos and everything! I write what I like, but I’m a hip girl, y’know, so I do think I represent other women in my music. I just want to be me and have my own personality, but more times than not what I say addresses a bigger female perspective.”
Her songs are filled with tongue-in-cheek wit and peppered with killer, man-bashing lines (“boy, you buy Claiborne but can’t spell the Liz”), but this forthright, humorous approach has allowed Charlton to broach a number of more serious issues. As she says: “Right now I have a song called Do It To Me. It’s about oral sex. It’s a big taboo in Jamaica. There have been so many songs by men saying it is a bad, dirty thing to do, so I’m like… enough already! Yeah, I like funny things, but sometimes as a woman you need to come out and be assertive and push and shock people, you need to be seen and heard. It’s true of other things, too. Like I think it’s ridiculous that people are so homophobic in dancehall. I have nothing against people being gay and never will. Men being homophobic are also, by implication, being misogynist to me and I will keep saying that, no matter what.”
Such an uncompromising attitude makes Charlton a truly original voice, but freedom of expression comes at a price and has even led to a stern warning from one of her peers that she could be dicing with her livelihood. “My reaction was that if that was the case, then my career needed to be mashed up,” she reveals defiantly. “If I can’t write and sing what I want then I shouldn’t be singing in the first place.”
Luckily the faith being placed in Charlton indicates that her status as dancehall’s first lady is safe. Indeed, with a raft of popular Jamaican singles and genre-crossing collaborations with British breakbeat producers Shy-FX and Stanton Warriors already to her credit, her star appears to be firmly in the ascendant.
She’s come this far by doing it her way, but laughs at the idea of being seen as a role model. It’s not about setting an example to others; being true to herself is enough. “Sure, we’re all in this thing to make money and be famous,” she says. “I suppose I could be doing better if I was singing nasty, dirty, slack lyrics and putting myself across as a different kind of a woman, but I don’t want to. I have no time for foolishness. I want to show that it’s possible to be a classy lady, say what I want and still work in street-level dancehall – just as well as any man.”

Indeed, I think you've hit the nail on the head as to WHY Marley and Ali get 'free passes' from some people: whatever their positive points, to expect them to be pro-black civil rights and be inspirational to millions AS WELL as being saintly in every other respect would be too much. Especially considering what a 'leap' it was for them to 'escape the ghetto' in the first place.

True, but (playing Devil's advocate here) you could say that by singing about "Jah" and whatnot he's promoting a religion that is anti-semitic, homophobic, etc.

Constructing arguments can be entertaining, but it's not so much fun if they're really flimsy (although you could also argue that by singing "No woman no cry" he's explicitly promoting homosexuality, and that would be pretty fun, I think).

Well, it makes about as much sense as grilling Fifty Cent about his feelings towards Pitt the Younger. Ie tAtU aren't communists. But Marley was a rasta.

"'cause I remember when a we used to sit
In a government yard in Trenchtown,
Observing the hypocrites - yeah! -
Mingle with the good people we meet, yeah!
Good friends we have, oh, good friends we have lost
Along the way, yeah!
In this great future, you can't forget your past;
So dry your tears, I say."

Addressing his partner/lover, possibly. Gender unspecified.

"No woman, no cry;
No woman, no cry.
Little darlin', don't shed no tears:
No woman, no cry."

"Little darlin'," of course, indicates that this indeed an intimate partner, gender still unspecified. Bob's avuncular advice to his "little darlin" is obviously intended to suggest that since there are no women in their intimate social arrangement, there's no reason to cry. Hence, he is addressing a male -- presumably a young, luscious boy.

"I remember when we used to sit
In the government yard in Trenchtown, yeah!
And then Georgie would make the fire lights,
I say, logwood burnin' through the nights, yeah!
Then we would cook cornmeal porridge, say,
Of which I'll share with you, yeah!
My feet is my only carriage
And so I've got to push on through.
Oh, while I'm gone,
Everything's gonna be all right! [etc]
No woman, no cry;
No woman, no cry.
I say, O little - O little darlin', don't shed no tears;
No woman, no cry"

A reminiscence of previous male bonding experience, suggesting intimacy and perhaps sensual delights (not explicitly, though -- Bob had CLASS), once again emphasizing at the end that everything's gonna be all right, since there are none of those devilish, godfosaken women about.

Love to all,
Hurlothrumbo

Lovely man.

Yes.

Hmmmmm, could be, Noh troupes are almost as popular in the poorer areas of Kingston as sound systems.

i mean he's great, but his contribution is blown so far out of proportion that it's really tempting to cut him down when his name comes up

my friend and i joke that there are three kinds of reggae fans:

(1) "i love bob marley"
(2) "yeah bob's great but have you heard of peter tosh?"
(3) the rest of us (=seemingly small minority)

Yeah, sure, that's fair -- I guess there are people who do that, but lionizing pop musicians in a broader social spectrum isn't really something that adults do much, in my experience. Is Bob Marley widely praised among music writers (at whom the original question was aimed) for social influences (outside of the obvious accomplishment of helping to popularize a third world music in the mainstream culture of the developed world)? I honestly don't know -- it would seem a little grandiose to me, but I'm certainly no expert on Bob Marley.

the really good reggae historians give him an important place but not necessarily a dominant one, in fact it's crucial to acknoledge his estrangement from trends in reggae music starting about the early 70s

i mean getting at the SPECIFICITY of marley's achievement vis a vis his jamaican contemporaries is important and the kneejerk responses (going in both directions) don't try to do this

i guess i feel like marley criticism has reached a point of saturation and to make both the criticism and the music alive again it's best to stick with the music

This doesn't add up. They are toning down the hate to sell more( a-la Sean Paul) means precisely that they ARE pandering/catering to the tastes of the Liberal white middle classes outside Jamaica.

Didn't Morrisey play around with some Nazi imagery before?
― Jon Williams (ex machina), Wednesday, February 18, 2004 4:50 PM bookmarkflaglink

he done tings since den for sure

--Bob Marley

this thread is messed up

i almost wrote "i'm glad it's not 2004 anymore" but of course i don't love that it's 2020 either

True.

I'm sure I've read a fairly high profile SReynolds piece addressing reggae / rasta and it's strict authoritarian values

Jesus I was an idiot in this thread.