Bob Marley & the Wailers: Birthday Countdown Special #3 Live from Hammersmith Odeon, London June 16th 1976

Bob Marley & the Wailers

 

June 16th 1976 Live at the Hammersmith Odeon, London

A very nice recording from the soundboard.  Maybe a tad slow, I don’t mess with pitch control with transferring tapes.  I try to leave history as exact as it was documented. Bob and the Wailers did a run of shows at the Odeon from June 15th thru the 18th.  His mark as the king of reggae was solidified this year with these shows and the ones at the Lyceum show he now had the band in top for and was ready to conquer the world with his messages and positive energy. 

 Setlist:

Trenchtown Rock,

Burnin’ And Lootin’,

Them Belly Full,

Rebel Music,

Crazy Baldheads,

I Shot The Sheriff,

Want More,No More Trouble 

You can right clip and save as each song above, or just left clip to listen. Also

the entire show is in the youtube clip below


                                      

Here is a great article from NME,, thanks to Michael for sending it to me
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Hammersmith Odeon, London
Charles Shaar Murray, NME, 26 June 1976
RIOTS LAST NIGHT they said, marauding hordes of smart, mean kids swarming around getting illegal all over the place with property and the concession stands in the foyer. Not so much heaving the moneylenders out of the temple as ripping off their money, but as an analogy it will suffice.
Like Patti Smith’s Roundhouse set, the Wailers’ show gets things on which don’t happen in the ordinary crappy-old-theatre-with-humorous-acoustics type of environment such as is provided by town councils throughout the land.
The audience, by sheer sleight of spirit, made the rows of seating devices perform the Big Vanish just as they shut the house lights down, transforming Hammersmith Odeon into an environment fit for whoopin’, hollerin’, jumpin’ up and down, dancin’ tight, singin’ along and all kinds of other things that folks do when someone’s blowing clouds of inexorably exhilarating and ineluctably – you should excuse the expression – positive vibrations all over them.
‘Trenchtown Rock’ filled the hall, occupying space and time like a solid object. Down front it was like dancing in the middle of a choir while simultaneously getting a full massage – plus you could watch the band with the I Threes dignifiedly swaying in the breeze and Marley moving fluid behind the centre mike, radiating the strange kind of intensity of presence that a small man can use to dominate a stage.
The band generated what seemed like infinite quantities of energy with virtually no apparent effort; a judoka’s mastery of stress and balance and pressure. Family Man Barrett’s bass was a huge granite Odin humming in the bath and the guitars did almost as much dancing as the audience.
Marley himself was, they tell me, in a state of near exhaustion that night, but even in that state he moved more earth than any of your friendly neighbourhood gentlemen of leisure can do after fifteen hours sleep and half a gram of coke up the nasal cavities. What was so totally overwhelming about the show was not so much “The Music” itself (inasmuch as music can never be considered as something existing separately from the people who produce it and those who listen to it) as the audience, and what got the audience the way they were.
See, these days a lot of dull, brutish music is played dully and brutally and received dully and brutally by audiences grown accustomed to no better. The Wailers’ audience last Wednesday night reacted passionately and joyously to the music, singing and dancing along with it quite spontaneously and unpromptedly, without seeming at all dominated by or subordinate to the performer.
What was happening was quite simple. The audience regarded Marley as their champion and their voice, but not as their master or leader or prophet. They regarded him with admiration and affection, not with the kind of fawning idolatry that greets Bowie or Jagger. Similarly, Marley manifests respect and friendship to the people he plays to, a welcome change from the usual rampant condescension.
Maybe it was once like that in rock and roll: an audience hearing people instead of instruments and a man instead of lyrics, and not wanting or needing to cluster round the back to watch him get into his car after the gig.
© Charles Shaar Murray, 1976

You can always view this post and many other post on specific Bob Marley shows at

Bob Marley and the Wailers – Birthday Countdown #2 Live from The Rainbow Alternative Night

Bob Marley and the Wailers

Rainbow Theatre, London, England

June 2nd, 1977  (rare unreleased date)

 

Review

Two of Bob Marley’s most famous live shows were performed in London. The 1975 shows from the Lyceum used to make the “Live” release and the

June 4th 1977 show from the Rainbow used for the “Live at the Rainbow” release. Here is a rare recording from a different night in the historic run of shows at the Lyceum.

 

This show is almost a instrumental only set. Bob’s vocals are so low in the mix you can’t really hear him.

* the SBD version sounds good, but the vocals are almost turned off, so it’s almost only instrumental.
* rare 1977 performance of “Concrete Jungle”.
* the date is not confirmed, but the show usually circulates by this date.
* the show was most likely filmed on video, as probably were all Rainbow 1977 dates.


Lineage:SBD>3rdgen

burnin’ and lootin’ with intro.
concrete jungle
i shot the sheriff
them belly full
rebel music
war> no more trouble
no woman no cry
positive vibration(cut)
get up stand up
exodus

transfer done 2006-08-03 by.T.Jones ( thanks Tim)  right click and save as to download, left click on a track to play it.

 

 

 

 

Below is an article by Vivien Goldman from Sounds June 11th, 1977 with her account of one of the nights in this historic run at the Rainbow

 

 

11 June 1977
Bob Marley & The Wailers: Rainbow Theatre, London
Vivien Goldman, Sounds, 11 June 1977
THE TENSION in the Rainbow was almost painful, the only relief the appearance of the Wallers.
And the curtain rises on a scene of splendour: two columns on either side of the stage soar the full height of the Rainbow, lions rampant on each one. The backdrop, painted by Tony Wright, is more atmospheric than I’d imagined it could be, warm reds and golds evoking Kingston at night, palms etched behind shantytown, lights blur in the distance.
It’s the first time the band’s played an Exodus-based set, (the European dates featured a range of classics) and there are a couple of loose edges in key and tempo. But any slight roughness is over-shadowed by the passion of Bob’s singing.
Tonight is a crucial night, the first presentation of his new material to the capital of reggae outside Jamaica itself. Each song builds and builds to heights of concentrated power. As ‘Natural Mystic’ opens the set, a tide of pure, high energy sings through the theatre.
It’s so satisfying, watching the Wailers. I love the way Family Man plays bass, planted firm, like a tree growing from sturdy roots – just the stolid set of his shoulders shouts that he’ll never give up the fight. Carly drums in crisp clockwork chops, every limb alert. Seeco calmly shifts through percussion parts, always adding oblique, unexpected emphasis. New guitarist Junior Marvin delights in showmanship, tantalising the audience with wheeling seagull swoops at his guitar, dancing vigorously back and forth, while Tyrone behind the banked keyboards bobs in smiling counterpoint. The I Three dip and sway, looking very exotic tonight in off-theshoulder white-ruffles, red gold and green turbans imperiously swathing their heads.


‘So Much Thing To Say’, merges into ‘Guiltiness’, my favourite track on the album, a disturbingly precise blend of remorselessness towards the guilty and remorse at the very existence of the downpressor… Bob shudders with passion while he sings, emotion squeezes through his voice as wine squeezes from grapes.
One of my favourite moments of the set is ‘Rastaman Vibration’, with a new keyboards part from Tyrone, a subtle alteration in the pulse that delicately flings the song into a new light. Tyrone stuns now, and Seeco performs amazing rhythm runs that flicker round the Carly/Famlly Man unit in a quicksilver outline. Positive.’No Woman No Cry’ moves you. It has to be that way.
‘Lively Up Yourself’ suddenly swirls into a new near-Latin texture, just like the title suggests, it shakes the audience into a more physical mood – revitalises the veins, brightens the bones, and boosts the blood. ‘Jamming’ is exuberant: exultant: joyous, again, just as it should be. Somewhere around that time, Junior delivered some sparse and bouncily imaginative guitar breaks, provocative and visual, and received extravagantly enthusiastic applause (Birth Of New Guitar Hero?)
Of course, there has to be an encore. ‘Get Up Stand Up’ is so perfect it seems unavoidable. That’s when Family Man’s bass seemed to roar, after a night of solid rumbling thunder. Now it’s an army of marching feet again, an imperturable onslaught on your whole body, battering you into submission. I discover that when my head droops in a parallel line to the floor, the bass bounces upwards and directly through the frontal lobes, controlling the pulse-rate, I’m certain, and the heart beat.


Again, there’s a classic inevitably to ‘Exodus’ as an encore. It’s so powerful, it grabs your soul and squeezes. Difficult to follow. Certainly at this point in time, when the song seems to tug just under the surface of Bob’s skin.Then the song gushes out from so deep inside him it hurts. For once, his eyes stare wide open, he’s in a transcendental state, anguish firing his wiry super-fit blue-denim’d body to a new stature. He grows before your eyes, and his voice swells and swells and swells, sounds as if they’re turning his vocals up so high, adding echoes and echoes till the board must explode.
Or maybe his voice is simply growing louder and louder till it threatens to vibrate the bolts fixing the roof to the building, the way Ella Fitzgerald’s voice shatters glass on the Memorex ads, and the roof will simply rise heavenwards on a bubbling hot geyser of Bob’s voice, pulsing it higher and higher each time he shouts MOVE. “We’re leaving Babylon,” he stresses ardently, “going to our FATHERS’ LAND”. Tyrone’s voicebox twists mysteriously round Bob’s singing.
And then it’s “We the generation, tried through great tribulation” over and over, round and round. Each time the anguish of the lament deepens, till it’s a cry against all wrong in the world, from the abundance of thievery going on in the audience even while he’s singing so passionately and explicitly of everything that’s right and true, to every other bitter idiocy that’s perpetrated on this planet. Higher and higher.
© Vivien Goldman, 1977

 

Thanks to Michael Watson for this article, you can check his blog here Midnight Raver

 

 

From the famous officially released night at the Rainbow Theater, The complete show from youtube.