Reggae Beyond Bob Marley

It's a given that your reggae music collection should include a couple of Bob Marley & The Wailers albums, but then what? What of those artists who, though lesser known, were just as influential as Marley in the development of reggae?

Reggae grew out of ska and rocksteady in 1960s Jamaica as tempos sped up, song structures loosened up, and the organ shuffle, drums, and bass moved to the fore. With the 1968 release of the Maytals' "Do the Reggay," the genre was immortalized.

In the early 1970s, vocal groups like Burning Spear and The Abyssinians and like-minded deejays brought their Rastafarian beliefs and political consciousness into Jamaican mainstream culture, spurring a renaissance of roots reggae. Running parallel to this subgenre was dub, a sticky, echoey morass of deconstructed, manipulated songs emphasizing the space between notes instead of the notes themselves.

Reggae then took across the seas, thanks largely to the iconic 1972 film The Harder They Come, starring Jimmy Cliff. Major record labels began signing roots reggae acts, among them The Wailers, with a young Bob Marley, who helped further to spread the sound worldwide.

By the time of Marley's 1981 death, roots reggae had faded in popularity. While groups like Steel Pulse and Black Uhuru worked to keep the flame alive, a new wave of producers and singers—e.g., Yellowman and Shabba Ranks—ditched the roots polemic for party/sex rhymes and used digital rhythms instead of the traditional backing band, turning out the deejay-as-superstar subgenre of dancehall.

Then, in the late 1990s, performers like Luciano and Sizzla embraced Rasta spirituality, setting a new tone that harkened back to roots reggae while not shying away from modern sounds.

The best reggae can have the proselytizing fury of Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs or the bonkers experimental tendencies of your most outré underground music; it can also have mass popular appeal. Whatever form it takes, it's here for the long haul.

Reggae is considered more of a singles phenomenon than an albums phenomenon. Occasionally, it's better to invest in a compilation, which will give a long view of an artist's development, than to stick with just one album. However, there are epochal and cohesive albums out there, and with this chronologically ordered list, I've tried to strike the correct balance. There are a number of new young reggae performers emerging from Jamaica—e.g., Mavado and Etana—so if the more classic material goes over well, it might be worthwhile to investigate their albums as well.

Jimmy Cliff. The Harder They Come. Island. 1972. UPC 7-31458-61582-8.

Cliff's soundtrack to the film of the same name brought roots reggae to the world's attention.

Big Youth. Screaming Target. Sanctuary. 1973. UPC 0-60768-05532-2.

Big Youth ruled the dancehalls with his outrageous toasting style.

Burning Spear. Marcus Garvey/Garvey's Ghost. Mango. 1975. UPC 0-16253-93772-7.

This landmark roots album, full of eloquent Rasta teachings and fiery emotion, was a real game changer in Jamaica.

Augustus Pablo. King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown. Shanachie. 1976. UPC 0-16351-45592-5.

A definitive instrumental dub album, all haunting melodies and wide-open spaces.

Peter Tosh. Legalize It. Sony. 1976. UPC 0-74646-59222-9.

Ex-Wailer/Marley creative foil Tosh's edgy, blazing solo debut found a receptive rock audience.

Culture. Two Sevens Clash. Shanachie. 1978. UPC 0-16351-45652-6.

Spirituality was the lyrical and thematic focus of this apocalyptic album, but the musicianship and execution were progressive.

Buju Banton. 'Til Shiloh. Island. 1995. UPC 7-31458-68542-5.

Banton helped kick-start roots revival and returned live instrumentation to dancehall.

Lee "Scratch" Perry. Arkology. Island. 1997. UPC 7-31452-43792-1.

Perry shaped both dub and roots through his collaborative work at Black Ark Studios; his solo work is equally as insane and visionary.