The 500 - #126 - Catch A Fire - The Wailers

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

---

Album: #126
Album Title: Catch A Fire
Artist: The Wailers
Genre: Reggae, Reggae Rock, Roots Reggae
Recorded: Four Studios, Kingston, Jamaica

Released: April, 1973

My age at release: 7
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple of songs
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #140, dropping 14 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Stir It Up

My wife and I have always loved sampling different cuisines. In fact, we recently joined friends at the Annual Taste Experience (formerly Food & Drink Show) in London, Ontario, where we eagerly tasted a variety of flavors, dishes and beverages from regional artisans. With our adventurous palates, we're ready for almost anything. Fortunately, neither of us has allergies or sensitivities, and we enjoy vegetables, seafood, and most meats. We’re also game when it comes to bold, spicy food...though, we’re not out to break any Scoville Scale records eating Carolina Reaper hot wings. We prefer spice with depth and flavor, crafted by someone who knows what they’re doing.

It took me a while to realize that not everyone possesses an adventurous approach to food. I’ve had friends who stick to a handful of simple, fairly flavorless dishes they eat over and over again. One friend even joked, "Hodgy, I’m Irish -- mayonnaise is spicy to my people."

Always the educator, I felt they were missing out. If only I could introduce them to some of the incredible dishes I’d discovered, surely they’d be won over. Sadly, in the process, I became a bit of a food bully, pushing my favorite discoveries on them, instead of respecting their cuisine comfort zone.

An AI image capturing my excitement as I push an exotic dish

on friends with more reserved tastes.

Sometimes, my pushy efforts actually worked. Case in point: Chicken Tikka Masala, a dish that delighted my wife and I while checking out East Indian cuisine in the late 1980s. At the time, the predominantly white, Anglo-Saxon city of London, Ontario, was hardly a culinary hotspot. There was just one Indian restaurant -- Curry’s on Wellington Road. Unfortunately, after 40 years it closed in 2025, a casualty of road widening. On our first visit, we tested Tikka Masala, a U.K. twist on the Delhi classic Murgh Makhani. I learned that in Britain, they simply call it Butter Chicken. And just like that, my campaign to convert the cautious began.

The front door to the recently shuttered
Curry's restaurant in London, Ontario,

Over time, we stocked up on spices and started experimenting with Indian dishes. Moving to Brampton in 1991 was a culinary jackpot. The city’s large South Asian population (15% then, 55% now) meant spices, paneer, mung beans, tamarind, ghee, naan and other Indo-Asian staples were everywhere. Now widely available, these were delicacies at the time, seemingly as rare as a snow-free January in Southwestern Ontario.

The 90s opened us up to a world of flavours. We felt tres- continental.

Slowly, we learned to tame the heat, while keeping the flavour, for more sensitive North American palates. Then came the fun part -- serving these unfamiliar dishes to dinner guests, some of whom would have bolted at the mere mention of words like spicy, Indian, or curry…let alone such mysterious names as Tikka, Masala, Murgh, or Makhani. We waited nervously as our guests took the first bite of our North American-branded “Butter Chicken on rice with a side of cheesy pita.” Just in case, a back-up pizza chilled in the fridge for quick baking.

There was no need. The foreign dish was a hit. Over and over again, our once food-reticent friends asked for seconds. We had unlocked the secret, or rather, two secrets. First. tone down the spice and, second, rebrand the name. Suddenly, ‘Butter Chicken on Rice” sounded far less intimidating than “Murgh Makhani.” Marketing works, even at the dinner table.  

The same strategy was applied when The Wailers released their fifth studio record, Catch A Fire, in 1973.

The Wailers - 1972 - (l-r) Bunny Wailer, Bob Marley, 
Carlton Barrett, Peter Tosh and Ashton Barrett.

The band found themselves financially strapped and stranded in the U.K. following a tour supporting American singer Johnny Nash, known best for his 1972 hit, I Can See Clearly Now. The Wailers’ road manager, Brent Clark, reached out to Chris Blackwell, head of Island Records, with a proposal. Blackwell agreed to pay for their fares back to Jamaica in exchange for a chance to market their next record. Five months later, Marley returned to London with the tapes from their recording sessions. Blackwell, in pure “butter chicken” fashion, reworked the tracks at Island Studios, adding rock guitar overdubs from famed Muscle Shoals session player Wayne Perkins.

Musicians Jimmy Johnson (left) and Ronnie Van Zandt of Lynyrd
Skynyrd pointing at Wayne Perkins in the Muscle Shoals Sound Studios.

The original album cover on the Tuff Gong label featured a picture of a Zippo lighter and was credited to "The Wailers". Blackwell changed the name for the International release of Island Records. The group was now credited as Bob Marley and The Wailers and featured a portrait of Marley smoking a "marijuana spliff", as seen at the toop of this post. There’s debate among historians and reggae scholars that skin tone may also have also been a factor in promoting Marley as the band’s leader. Marley was of mixed heritage, his father was white and his mother was black, and some argue that his lighter skin and "universal" image made him more appealing to Western markets. However, this ignores Marley’s natural leadership qualities as well as his talents as a singer, songwriter and musician.

Original album cover for Catch A Fire on Tuff Gong Records.

In 1973, The Wailers performed their first single, Stir It Up, on the popular U.K. television program The Old Grey Whistle Test, and international attention began to build. 

Bob Marley (centre) and The Wailers on The Old Grey Whistle Test.

A tour followed, and by the summer of 1974 the album had sold about 14,000 copies. Although not a blockbuster by any stretch, it was enough to establish The Wailers and Bob Marley as bona fide artists in a now palatable genre of reggae. The following year, Eric Clapton released his version of Marley’s I Shot the Sheriff, and reggae exploded into the mainstream. And, like our butter chicken, it was enjoyed by everyone, even those with a sensitive palate for spicy, exotic flavours. These days, it is tough to find a person who doesn't like both -- butter chicken and reggae. Mission accomplished!

The 500 - #181 - Natty Dread - Bob Marley and The Wailers

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

---

Album: #181
Album Title: Natty Dread
Artist: Bob Marley and The Wailers

Genre: Reggae, Reggae Rock

Recorded: Harry J. Studios (Kingston, Jamaica)

Released: October, 1974
My age at release: 9
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple songs

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Lively Up Yourself

In the winter of 2007, my wife and I made our first trip to Jamaica, accompanied by our friend and tour guide, Bill Gudgeon. Bill had been to the Caribbean island nation more than a dozen times, so we put our trust in him to help us navigate our first visit. Neither my wife, nor I are big fans of "all-inclusive resorts". We currently prefer to live among the locals and learn about the history, culture and cuisine from them. Despite its convenience and promise of security, all-inclusives feel a bit too culturally sanitized for our liking -- but, we can understand why people enjoy them, and our opinions are open to change.

An example of accommodations at a Jamaican resort.

The trip was fraught with obstacles from the start with a delay at the border overcome only by our prompt 3 a.m. departure time from London. Our plane needed to be de-iced before leaving Detroit, so we were hours late departing there. This led to us missing a connecting flight in Philadelphia and we had to spend our first vacation night in hotel rooms in Springfield, a small community about an hour outside the City of Brotherly Love. I did get a chance to order a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich and a Yuengling beer over lunch. I would later learn that the sandwich I got was a terrible knock-off. I still hope to get to Philly one day for an authentic cheesesteak from Jim's South Street ..."wit whiz!"

The next morning, we caught a 5 o'clock flight to Washington's Dulles Airport before spending several hours yawning and waiting for a connecting flight to Jamaica. We arrived in Montego Bay that afternoon -- our luggage, however, had other plans. Was it in Philadelphia? Was it in Washington? Was it hiding here?

My wife, Angela. with our carry-on, waiting for  word on our missing luggage.

No one seemed to know. Reluctantly we shared our cell phone numbers with the airport staff and climbed into our rental car for a trip across the Nassau Mountains toward Treasure Beach in Saint Elizabeth Parish on the south side of the island. Just as we cleared Montego Bay’s busy traffic my cell rang. It was the airport, informing us our luggage had "arrived" or "been discovered". It didn't matter which. Bill happily turned the car around and we travelled back to retrieve the errant items. We set off again, well behind schedule.

Our route from Montego Bay to Treasure Beach, across the
Blue Mountains of Jamaica.

The rural roads across Jamaica are treacherous even for seasoned drivers. Poor Bill was fighting the dwindling light as he drove on the left side of the road with an unaccustomed stick-shift and a right-sided steering wheel. The switchback roads twisted and turned sharply as they climbed 1,000 metres over a hard, black surface of sedimentary rock called marl, which shatters easily and makes the edges jagged. Shredded tires are a distinct possibility for the unsuspecting driver.

Narrow, marl covered, winding Jamaican mountain roads.

At about 11 p.m., after 38 hours of exhausting travel, we arrived at our destination -- a short-term rental house overlooking the town of Treasure Beach. Billy assured me the view was spectacular; but I'd have to wait until morning to see it. Besides, it was time for a cold Red Stripe and a good night's sleep.

Bill and me on the outdoor balcony deck of our Treasure Beach abode.

The frustration and tension of those first couple days melted away quickly as we ate, drank, suntanned, swam and snorkeled beneath a healing Caribbean sun. A particularly good day found us floating in Frenchman's Bay on a pontoon boat chartered from Bill's longtime friend and Treasure Beach resident, Captain Dennis. We sampled  local agricultural products (wink), washed down with plenty of rum. And we leisurely bobbed on small flotation devices harnessed to the boat anchored in the calm waters of the Caribbean Sea. Reggae piped through the boat speakers supplied a healthy dose of Bob Marley’s greatest hits as well as a few deeper cuts.

Bob Marley performing in the 1970s.

I recognized songs from Natty Dread, the seventh album he made with his band The Wailers. It opens with the bluesy, up-tempo and celebratory Lively Up Yourself, followed by the well-known No Woman, No Cry, a nostalgic reflection on the reggae legend’s childhood in the impoverished Trenchtown ghettos of Kingston. The rest of the record contains a number of songs with political messages of rebellion – Marley’s way of seeking social justice and change for his fellow Jamaicans. Them Belly Full (But We Hungry) served as a lyrical warning to those in power: "A hungry mob is an angry mob." The closing track, Revolution, is a powerful lyrical argument about the need for radical change when people are being suppressed and controlled. That's the thing about Marley's music -- it can be up-tempo, reflective or politically charged and socially impactful. He knew how to connect with people in so many ways before his untimely death in 1981, at 36, of cancer.

Album cover for single release of  Them Belly Full (But We Hungry).

I've always been a fan of reggae and tend to throw on a Marley record when relaxing at home, or marking some papers for school. His sound is a panacea for my racing mind, calming me instantly. Now, when I hear his voice and easy-going tempo, it isn't hard to think back to that beautiful, peaceful day -- bobbing on gentle waves, sipping rum cocktails and soaking up the Caribbean sun. The travails of our journey a few days earlier – the delays and perilous mountain drive – washed away.

A view of Frenchman's Bay from the popular local bar, Jakes.