A Reflection on Bob Marley & The Wailers' "Exodus"

One year after the assassination attempt of Bob Nesta Marley, “Exodus,” a defining work of Bob Marley & The Wailers’ career, was released. Though popular worldwide for its mainstream tracks such as “Three Little Birds” and “One Love,” among reggae fans, “Exodus” is known for its artistry and unique choices that render it one of the most memorable works in Marley’s discography.

The regular version of “Exodus” has ten tracks. In vinyl, the first five are on one side and the other five on the opposite side. The first five songs are probably some of the serious and sterner tracks Marley had produced at this point in his career (“Survival” doesn’t come out until 1979). The other five, however, shift the entire tone of the album with light-hearted melodies and beats, with serenading tracks like “Waiting In Vain.” To understand Marley’s musical choices in the creation of the legendary “Exodus,” it would be most useful to go track by track and explore the distinct choices that made “Exodus” one of the greatest reggae albums of all time.

“Natural Mystic”

The album opens with “Natural Mystic,” a song that almost sounds like it’s creeping up at you from the unknown. It begins with the classic reggae “skank” as well as the steady, enveloping bass of Aston “Family Man” Barrett’s guitar. As it gets louder (for a full 25 seconds), the drums introduce Bob Marley’s voice, and he sings, “there’s a natural mystic blowing through the air.”

This bar sets the rather dark tone of the rest of the song and the first half of the album. Marley continues with this ominous tone with lyrics like “many more will have to suffer, many more will have to die,” as well as references to the trumpet of the end of days with “if you listen carefully you will hear, this could be the first trumpet, might as well be the last.”

As a revolutionary reggae artist, Bob Marley’s “Natural Mystic” could be a reference to the coming African Revolution that could lead to many more who would have to suffer and die. Marley could also be referring to the political violence that gripped Jamaica because of the 1976 elections, in which the Jamaican Labour Party (JLP), under Edward Seaga, and the People’s National Party (PNP), under Michael Manley, fought for dominion. This was the same political violence that led to the attempt on Bob Marley’s life in the confines of his home at 56 Hope Road. Bob Marley’s previous message of peace and love seemed a threat to those who wanted to control Jamaican politics. And “Natural Mystic” was, in part, a warning of the nature of violence.

“So Much Things To Say”

“So Much Things To Say” starts with the classic upbeat reggae rhythm introduced by the drums. Though musically it may seem a shift from the stern tone established by “Natural Mystic,” the lyrics prove different. Marley repeats the line “they got so much things to say,” possibly in reference to the Rastafarian-based biases that began to follow him and his bandmates around as they toured the world.

As one of the first mainstream Rasta artists from Jamaica in the 1970s, Marley introduced Rastafarianism to the world through his music. Though some embraced it, there were a lot more who rejected, if not downright ridiculed, the Rastafarian faith. Most people understand Rastafarianism through surface-level analyses: believing Haile Selassie I to be God come again, the locking of one’s hair, and the spiritual usage of ganja (weed). Though this is not untrue, it would be doing the entire Rastafarian faith a disservice to solely understand it through this lens.

In “Bass Culture: When Reggae Was King,” Lloyd Bradley provides an earnest exploration of not just the spiritual belief of Rasta but its philosophical orientation as well. He writes:

"Rastafari was able to establish itself so securely as the natural standard bearer for the Ethiopian Christian churches, Pan-Africanism and Garveyism because its whole point, as a way of life, was for the advancement of Jamaica's black population. It sought to achieve this by restoring the self-awareness and self-confidence that had been all but bred out through the destruction wrought by transporation, the brutalization of slavery and the subservience that wsa necessary to maintain the colonial system."

Rastafarians are a devout and disciplined people who take the healthy maintenance of their body, soul, environment, and collective incredibly seriously. It takes discipline and devotion to the betterment of you and the world around you to be a true Rastafarian. And although less emphasized in popular depictions of Rasta, this entialed a materialist analysis of the conditions caused by colonialism. Though they may have erred on the side of spirituality, and even non-confrontation for some, there were the likes of those who embodied a more militant iteration of Rastafarian resistance—a popular representation of this is Peter Tosh.

Like many other Rastafrain artists, Marley continues by mentioning Jamaican revolutionaries like Marcus Garvey, founder of the United Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) and Paul Bogle, executed for rebelling against the British government in Jamaica (1865) by singing “I’ll never forget, no way, the way they turned their back on Paul Bogle...the way they sold Marcus Garvey for rights.” Marley continues by urging, “Don’t forget who you are and where you stand in the struggle.”

Among the confusion and miseducation that is unleashed upon Africans by the venomous Babylon system, it is of utmost importance that Africans know who they are—know the difference between those who truly fought for them and those who continue to plot our demise. Among this disarray, Marley reminds listeners not to expect liberation through the constructs of men: “I and I nah expect to be justified by the laws of men.” And that when the revolution comes, these constructs will not be there to protect anyone, despite the protections a certain caste or class might offer: “when the rain falls, it won’t fall on one man’s housetop.”

Overall, “So Much Things to Say” continues the tone established by “Natural Mystic” by warning and urging of the forces that killed Africans like Paul Bogle and Marcus Garvey, who were truly about the liberation of their people. Marley urges listeners to stay true to where they came from—their roots—because all the “things they have to say” are to the utmost detriment of Africans anywhere.

“Guiltiness”

“Guiltiness” begins with the same low, ominous tone first established by “Natural Mystic” and grows even more ominous with the lyrics. Marley begins with the line “Guiltiness, pressed on their conscience, they live a life of false pretense every day.” Upon first listen, one might surmise that Marley is speaking of the bourgeoisie, but this line of thought is solidified with the following line, “these are the big fish, who try to eat down the small fish;” and continues with “they would do anything to materialize their every wish.” The use of the word “material,”—if not the vivid picture painted by Marley—seems to refer to the capitalist system in which the bourgeoisie (the big fish) survive by feeding on the labor of the working class (the small fish).

The chorus of “Guiltiness,” however, is a proclamation—a threat, if you will—for Marley sings “woe to the downpressors” for “they eat the bread of sorrow.”

“Guiltiness” is one of the most militant songs of Bob Marley’s career for not only does he characterize the inherent vulture-like aspect of capitalism with the “big fish/small fish” analogy, but he also proclaims woe— “great sorrow and distress”—on the downpressers (oppressors).

“The Heathen”

“The Heathen” continues and amplifies the militant tone by starting the song with vocals from Marley and the I-Three chanting, “The heathen back dey ‘pon the wall.” This chanting style of singing further emphasizes the warning and militant tone that Marley is so clearly trying to create with the first half of the album. “The Heathen” is also the first track in which there is little to no musical variance in terms of chord and tone progression. It is the same beat over and over again, with flares of the guitar here and there. Marley also adds a certain roughness to his voice by utilizing lower octaves when chanting. This, again, may be done to create a specific sound and aesthetic that Marley is going for.

This artistic choice is reinforced with the lyrics as most of the song is comprised by the chorus “the heathen back dey ‘pon the wall.” It is also important to note that “The Heathen” is the first track in Exodus that deviates from the reggae formula slightly and incorporates more rock elements. This may simply be an aesthetic choice, but it could also be done to emphasize the militant side of Marley, best exemplified by the lines, “rise up fallen fighters, rise and take your stance again!”

“Exodus”

“Exodus,” for which the album is named, is the longest song at 7 minutes and 39 seconds long. It marks the halfway point before the album completely switches gears. I like to think of it as a lengthy interlude, but calling it an interlude would be doing it a disservice, as its musical and political significance is evident.

“Exodus” starts with the classic reggae skanking by the lead guitar, which is met with the bass, the keyboards, and “one drop” drum rhythm to create the warm sound ready for Marley and I-Three’s “Exodus! Movement of Jah people!” This beat is sustained by the steady beat of the bass drums as well as the light hi-hats.

Marley’s proclamation of “we’re leaving Babylon, we’re goin’ to our father’s land,” coupled with shouts of “move!” adds to the urgent tone Marley is creating. Much like “The Heathen,” this is a militant and political song, calling for Africans to forsake and leave the vampire that is Babylon (the West).

Marley also sings, “We know where we’re going, we know where we’re from.” It is important to note that the PNP under Manley used the phrase “We Know Where We Are Going” for their campaign in ’76. Marley’s clever retort of “we know where we’re from” is in reference to resistance and Africa, the homeland.

“Exodus” can be interpreted in a number of ways. For some, it may symbolize the physical return to Africa. For others, it is more of a “return to Africa” mindset in the way one lives and thinks. Regardless, “Exodus” has the perfect musical choices that one can’t help but feel the need to get up and literally move, as Marley urges multiple times throughout the song.

Whether it is to get whoever is listening to get up and dance or, more likely, urge Africans worldwide to ‘leave’ Babylon in any capacity, “Exodus” is a quintessential roots reggae track that was a defining force in developing the militant side of reggae as a whole.

“Jamming”

The first lighthearted, feel-good song of the Exodus, “Jamming,” marks the complete shift from the dark tone established between tracks 1-4. “Jamming” is almost meta in the sense that Marley is highlighting the beauty of, and defending the right to, jamming, as he puts it, to great music.

Though this track marks the shift to less-serious topics, Marley has lines that are possible allusions to his assassination attempt: “no bullet can stop us now, we neither beg nor we won’t bow, neither can’t be bought nor sold.”

Overall, “Jamming” is significant in being the first song in the album that marks the deviation from existential and political questions posed in “Natural Mystic” through “Exodus.”

“Waiting In Vain”

This light-hearted theme is again continued and built on by “Waiting In Vain,” a song that personally makes me feel like I’m lying on a beach in Jamaica, sun on my skin, maybe with the love of my life beside me—enjoying the feel of the earth’s warmth and the soft spray of the azure colored ocean waves.

Putting aside how it makes one feel, “Waiting In Vain” is a serenade of a reggae love song that is allegedly about Cindy Breakspeare, mother to Damian Marley, and former lover of Bob Marley. The lines of “it’s been three years since I’ve been knocking on your door,” claims Breakspeare in an interview, were actually about Marley’s incessant knocking on her door, which happened to be an out-house type living unit on Bob Marley’s property at Hope Road.

As the title of the song so aptly puts it, this track is about having affection for another in the hopes of reciprocity. At this point in Marley’s career, I doubt whether he had any trouble getting anyone he desired, but it isn’t hard to believe that maybe Breakspeare had him run for his money, since in 1976, she was crowned Miss World—and as such was probably desired by many herself.

Regardless of who it’s about and Marley’s motivations, “Waiting In Vain” is a beautifully written love song that is an anthem for many lovers, rooty or not.

“Turn Your Lights Down Low”

“Turn Your Lights Down Low” is a track that evokes mellow emotions and moods from its start. The first few lyrics are Marley creating the mood and space he’s trying to sustain throughout the song: “Turn your lights down low, pull your window curtains, let jah moon come shining in.”

I’ve listened to this song many times over, but I think I’m just now noticing some eroticism that has flown past me in the past. The particular line, “I wanna give you some good, good lovin’” immediately followed by “turn your lights down low,” gave me that lightbulb moment.

It seems that in the later parts of Exodus, Marely is expressing and communicating the more sensitive and loving side of himself. Having “Turn Your Lights Down Low” closer to the end of the album, and particularly after “Waiting In Vain”, is an appropriate choice. It almost seems like a story; turns out he didn’t have to wait in vain, and now he is—as he puts it—giving, and presumably receiving—that “good, good lovin.”

“Three Little Birds”

Now on to one of the most well-known songs in reggae history: “Three Little Birds.” I want to emphasize that it being popular, or mainstream, has little to nothing to do with the value of the song as it is. It’s popular because it’s a great song. However, it is also popular because almost everyone on Earth can relate to it. Again, this is not a bad thing.

“Three Little Birds” is a beautifully sung and written song that is uplifting and comforting. And that in itself is a commendable thing. To write a song as simple as “Three Little Birds” but have it mean so much to so many different people only speaks to the genius of Bob Marley as a singer and songwriter.

For some, “Three Little Birds” might be the only track that symbolizes Bob Marley and his politics. The only potential problem is that this gives leeway for people to interpret Marley as this non-violent, love-your-enemy type of person through and through. This thought process disregards the first half of the album (some will argue his entire career) that clearly speaks to the militant or downright pessimistic side of Marley. Like any person, he’s too complex to fit into the box we may have constructed in our heads.

“One Love/People Get Ready”

This is another Bob Marley classic that was remade into a reggae song from the original Ska version released in 1965 in The Wailing Wailers album. “One Love,” much like “Three Little Birds,” continues that theme of peace and love for all people. These last two tracks speak to the loving person that Bob Marley truly was because, despite the ills he suffered—from his own countrymen, no less—he understood that love was necessary. That love makes you “feel alright.” The same love that helps one “have pity on those whose chances grow thinner.” The same love that helps us “fight this holy Armageddon.”

As Marley puts it, this is his “plea to mankind.” As such, this is a great choice with which to close the album because it shows listeners that, again, Marley is not disillusioned by the horrors he’s experienced with the threat on his life and the political violence he saw his people subjected to. Rather, it shows that he truly does have hope for the future.

As significant as “Exodus” is to Bob Marley & The Wailers’ career—and to the genre of reggae—by no means is this album the superlative work of Marley’s career in any capacity. Before “Exodus,” Marley—with the help of the original Wailers, Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer—created revolutionary reggae albums like “Burnin,’” Catch a Fire, and “Natty Dread.” After “Exodus,” Marley continued to drop classic works like “Kaya” (1978), “Survival” (1979), and the last one before his death, “Uprising” (1980). Even his posthumous album “Confrontation” (1983) (which I argue is the least popular album in terms of reach) is a classic in its own right.

It seems that for Bob Marley, creating timeless music was second nature.