I was fifteen when Peter Tosh was murdered. I was just getting
into reggae and aware of him as one of the original Wailers, but when I tuned
into Radio London for the traditional Sunday lunchtime lovers rock show, and
heard the infectious ska sounds of ‘Hoot
Nanny Hoot’ instead, it sounded totally fresh and exciting, with the young lead
vocal expressing a playful wisdom . As it was followed by tunes like ‘The
Toughest’, ‘Downpresser Man’ and ‘Bush Doctor’, I was hit by a strange mixture
of excitement at discovering all these classics for the first time, and the
dawning realisation that I was a bit too late, and something was tragically
wrong in the reggae world. The normally rich, authoritative voice of radio
legend Tony
Williams was choking up as he broke the news that Peter Tosh had been
fatally shot at his home in Jamaica, age 42.
So I must admit it took me a while to open up this weighty
tome, as even though it was over thirty years ago, it still feels like his
sudden, brutal death is a shadow hanging over his story. But long time reggae
journalist, John Masouri, has done a miraculous job of bringing Peter Tosh back
to life, restoring the complex and often conflicting sides to his character
through meticulous research into his childhood, detailed documentation of every
tour and album, and interviews with long lost relations, friends and enemies. Through
the cloud of ganja smoke and verbal obfuscation that surrounded him, a picture
begins to emerge of the militant rebel whose intelligence, wit and desire to
get his message across led him to international fame. Sometimes his own worst
enemy, he would simultaneously attract and repel success, with his words and actions
damaging his career and personal relationships. Masouri never lets us forget
the effects of the car crash that killed his girlfriend, leaving him
grief-stricken and guilt-ridden, and the numerous police beatings he suffered,
causing permanent pain and headaches. All this at the time when reggae was
king, and Peter Tosh shared the stage with the likes of Dennis Brown and
Gregory Isaacs, in regular line-ups at huge concerts all over the world. A
serious time, when apartheid South Africa was a seemingly unshakable reality
and the struggle for equal rights and justice was not just a song.
Reading this biography is like an interactive experience, as
when you read about the concert in Montreux in 1979, lauded as one of his best,
or the time he made a cameo in a Brazilian soap opera, you can witness them for
yourself in few clicks. It’s fascinating to read how Peter Tosh was often
vilified by the British music press, being accused of selling out or watering
down his message and music (they obviously had not listened to him saying “I’m
not in this world to live up to your expectations” on ‘I Am That I Am’) while
being hailed in the streets as a hero in black communities across America,
England, Africa and the Caribbean. ‘The Life of Peter Tosh’ is an important
work and a vital piece of reggae history, taking its place alongside the
numerous biographies of Bob. It leaves you with a greater understanding of the
man, an overdue celebration of his achievements, but nothing can quite shift
the sense of regret and frustration and injustice that limited his output, and
ultimately his life.
The
Life of Peter Tosh by John Masouri
