Stephen Marley Is in 'Control'

Entertainment Weekly hailed "Mind Control" as "the best Marley album in a generation," and Jamrock Magazine called Stephen Marley "a triple-threat entertainer that's taking the Marley name to new heights." Indeed, the album showcases Stephen's skills as a singer and toaster, a multi-instrumentalist and producer, and perhaps above all, as a writer. It's a thoroughly modern meld of the classic roots reggae of Stephen's childhood in Kingston with the rock, R&B and hip-hop influences of his world-traveling youth, with dabs of dancehall and reggaeton, the latter exemplified by the song "Let Her Dance," with cameos from rapper Illestr8 and singer Maya Azucena.

There are, of course, also inevitable echoes of Bob Marley, and variable Bobs at that. There's the political fire of "Mind Control's" title track, where Stephen warns about modern-day mental slavery, media trickery and the dangers of letting others control one's view of the world, in a manner reminiscent of "Redemption Song's" call nearly 30 years earlier to "emancipate yourself from mental slavery." "Chase Dem" lashes out at political corruption. Does Stephen think there's any way to be a Marley and not make conscious music?

"No, I don't," he replies with a throaty laugh, noting that "Mind Control" has several identities, only some overtly political. "I am a balanced person. This is us, this is who we are. I'm not a pop musician, I'm a born musician. I'm just doing what I do. The way we were brought up musically is the way our music comes out. Our work ethics and the integrity of the music, that's what we put into the music unconsciously."

Is there at least a symbiotic connection between the album's first single and video, "The Traffic Jam," and Bob Marley's 1974 song, "3 O'Clock Road Block"?

"Now that you mention it, yeah," says Stephen, insisting that no one has made that particular connection before (purely an act of kindness on his part).

Better known as "Rebel Music," the latter song recounts Bob Marley's distress at being detained in London by a certain "Mr. Cop" for carrying "my little herb stalk," which he mourns having to throw away to avoid arrest, only to still be harassed for not carrying identification. The song's more familiar title comes from its chorus declamation, "I rebel music!"

"The Traffic Jam," stripped-down dancehall with a touch of hip-hop, offers a similar story. Most of Bob Marley's 11 legally recognized heirs live in South Florida, and in 2002, Stephen and Julian drove to New Orleans to catch one of Damian's shows (mutual support is a Marley family trait). Driving back, the two were pulled over in Gadsden County, Fla., by "Officer Jimmy." They were charged with speeding and jailed after police found, of all things, marijuana in the car ("two dimes . . . two big dimes," Stephen would say later, though the police report called it eight "marijuana cigarettes").

A fine eventually was paid, and two songs were produced: "Officer Jimmy" and "Iron Bars," which was a collaboration with Julian, Spragga Benz and Stephen's longtime friend Mr. Cheeks. Its impassioned refrain ("Let me out, let me out / I'm an angry lion") is in sharp contrast to the more lighthearted mood captured in "The Traffic Jam" and its accompanying video.

"As inspiration, it was good," Stephen says of the bust.

The gentler side of the Wailers legacy is evoked on Stephen's reading of Ray Charles's "Lonely Avenue," the album's only cover.

"First of all, I'm a big fan of Ray Charles's music," he explains. "And that song, it kind of has a double meaning to me, reminds me of 'Concrete Jungle.' 'My room has got two windows, but the sunlight never comes through' reminds me of 'No sun will shine in my day today.' A lot of people see that kind of situation in their own lives -- they have windows in their lives, but the sun doesn't shine for them. It had a double meaning to me, more than just singing about a woman, it had a life meaning."

That's also true of the R&B-tinted "Hey Baby," featuring a verse from Mos Def. For a guy just embarking on his first headlining tour, Stephen has been on the road a lot the past couple of years, first with Damian and then as part of the acclaimed Bob Marley Roots Rock Reggae Festival, where he and Ziggy joined for the first time with reggae pioneer Bunny Wailer, one of the original Wailers. Stephen has eight children, and one senses a long-distance lullaby in "Hey Baby" when he sings, "Every day I pray to Jah that one day you will see and overstand the fact I must fulfill my destiny," capped by a sweet falsetto coda, "I'll be coming home to you again."

"Mind Control" closes with "Inna di Red," a rootsy spiritual track that samples Bob Marley (from "Natty Dread") and Ras Michael ("A New Name Jah Got") and features a children's chorus with three of Stephen's young daughters, Shacia, Mystic and Summer Marley. Recorded at Stephen's Lion's Den Studio in Miami and Marley Music Studios in Kingston, "Inna di Red" offers wonderful continuity from "Children Playing in the Streets," sort of "Marley, the next generation," with the hope, or perhaps the recognition, that family tradition rests in strong hands.

"It's a promise that the legacy will continue," Stephen agrees. "It's like my father said: 'This thing will plant in you, and it's going to get bigger and bigger.' "

For now, it's becoming bigger and bigger for him as well, with the door to performance not shutting the one on production. The immediate future includes a new album for Ky-Mani Marley and, finally, the long-awaited project uniting all the Marley brothers in the studio.

"They are two sides of the same coin," Stephen says. "When you produce, it's a beautiful thing because it's a creative thing that gets you excited in that way. When you're going to perform this music that you have created, again, it's a beautiful thing that you get to share with the people, and the music becomes alive now."

Stephen Marley with Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley and K'Naan

Appearing Tuesday at the 9:30 club and May 13 at Rams Head Live

Sounds like: Reggae past, present and future. And you can count on hearing some of dad's songs before the night is over, including the anthemic "One Love."