Blackheart Man (Island, 1976)

The relatively overlooked member of the "big three" of The Wailers, Bunny Wailer has for decades put out solid material that seems to have evaded the tastes of many fans who favor Bob Marley and Peter Tosh (Critics, on the other hand, have long lauded Wailer, evidenced by his 3 Grammy Awards.).  It's easy to see how he has been overshadowed by Tosh and Marley, the former's militancy winning over fans, and the latter, well, is Bob Marley.  Wailer's style is not as distinct as either of those two, but it you take the time to listen to his music, you'll uncover its subtle beauty.  Blackheart Man, Wailer's solo debut, is generally considered his best album, but I beg to differ.   While good, this album isn't really a knockout, and it's not as consistently enjoyable as some of his later efforts.  This is prototypical roots -- perhaps too much so.  Tracks like "Battering Down Sentence," while popular, I found somewhat bland and unoriginal, a fairly generic '70s roots cut.  Wailer seems to excel when he decides to have a little fun, to not get caught up in the oft-serious nature of roots reggae.  Whereas "Battering Down Sentence" -- written about his jail sentence for ganja possession -- is somber and heavy, "Fig Tree" and "Dreamland" are romantic, escapist visions (the latter a classic remade, to better effect, by Third World and Marcia Griffiths), and "Bide Up" features an airy falsetto, and "Blackheart Man" and "Amagideon," though containing serious messages, are playfully structured pearls.  Thus, the livelier material is the stronger material here, something that would prove true for much of his future output.

Rootsman Skanking (Shanachie, 1987)

This is my favorite of the Bunny Wailer CDs I've heard, largely because he really lets loose and gets his proverbial groove on.  If dancehall artists can be accused of throwing too much slackness into their music, roots artists can be accused of being too righteous and stuffy.  Sometimes it's refreshing to just get up and dance like they did in the ska/rock steady era.  Too often, though, the only fun dancehall songs are so pop-tinged that they're un-listenable.  To the rescue comes Wailer, who provides fun yet competent roots with a touch of lovers rock and dancehall thrown in for flavor.   You can't help but be hooked from the opening track, the utterly bewitching "Ballroom Floor."  Practically every tune -- save perhaps "Cry To Me" and the title track -- is a spirited wonder, especially "Cool Runnings" (How this failed to be included in the movie of the same name, I don't know.), "Gamblings," "Dance Rock," and "Jammins."  Rootsman Skanking strikes me as one of the best examples of  maintaining the balance between having fun and "keeping it real" that I've ever heard on a roots reggae album.

Crucial! Roots Classics (Shanachie, 1994)

Though released in 1994, this album collects tunes recorded between 1979 and 1982 that were, remarkably, not released on an album for around 15 years.  Because of the politically unstable time period in which they were recorded, these tracks have an overtly cultural, socio-political leaning -- with titles such as "Peace Talks," "Unity," "Innocent Blood," "Power Struggle," and "Togawar Game" -- and a "classic" old-fashioned roots sound.   Still, I wouldn't call  these songs "classics."  The only cuts that approach that status are "Boderation" and possibly "Trouble on the Road Again," "Togawar Game," and "Here in Jamaica."  Rather than individual tracks, it is the overall solid roots feel of Crucial! that makes it enjoyable.  Thus, the melodies aren't always as strong as they could be, but the sound is as powerful today as it was in '79-'82 -- explaining why it was given the Grammy for Best Reggae Album in 1995.

Retrospective (Shanachie, 1995)

This "best of" collection spans 3 decades and is a testament to the overlooked talent of this "3rd wheel" of The Wailers.  With tracks recorded between 1979 and 1991, Retrospective displays the range of styles that Bunny Wailer has flexed since leaving Island Records: from the lovers rock of "Rock 'n Groove" to the conscious roots of "Liberation" to the dancehall edge of "Dancehall Music" to the '70s funk sound of "Rockers" to the pure danceable fun of "Ballroom Floor."  Some of these styles work better than others -- my personal favorite being the festive sounds of "Ballroom Floor," "Cool Runnings," "Rock 'n Groove" (all on Rootsman Skanking), "Roots, Radics, Rockers, Reggae," and Toots Hibbert's "Dog War."   Of course, his righteous roots style is still good for tracks like "Rise & Shine" and "Conscious Lyrics."  On the bad side, though, 3 Bob Marley covers (and well-known ones at that) -- "Time Will Tell," "Redemption Song," and "Soul Rebel" -- are included; I swear, if I never hear another Bob Marley remake, it wouldn't die unfulfilled. On top of that, it's kind of hard to describe Retrospective as a true "best of" album without any tracks from Blackheart Man, particularly "Dreamland" and "Amagideon."

Communication (Solomonic, 2000)

As a reviewer, I actually sometimes appreciate an album that out-and-out sucks.  That way, I have no mixed feelings about it, no qualms about saying how bad it is.  That said, ladies and gentlemen, we have Communication.  This album is at times so bad it's comical (until you realize that you actually paid for it).  Need I go any further than to quote "Almighty Is a Rappa":

            In the beginning, the Almighty God created the rap,
            And in the end -- wooooord -- that's when He'll rap it up.
            'Cause out of the mouth of babes and suckling He ordained the rap
            With a message to all the homies east, west, north and southside gangsters . . .

And yes, he is rapping.  And yes, he sounds like your dad trying to rap.  And do you wanna know the worst part?  This isn't the only rap song here!  No, later on, we get the magnificently crappy "Teeni Wappaz," whose chorus will certainly resonate with the youths of today:

            It's a wap wap wap wap wap wap,
            Get up and dance to the new hip hoppaz!

Move over Jay-Z!  Thankfully, there's no more rapping to be found on Communication, but we do still get "Millennium Rock," a woeful blend of rock, hip-hop, dancehall, and house/techno, and the drippy R&B ballad "Stand in Love."  By this point in the review, you're probably wondering if there's any actual reggae on this album.  In fact, most of it is reggae, featuring a nice mid-temp throwback sound that often incorporates a ska/rock steady vibe, but in the end, most of them still disappoint.  Most noticeably, Bunny throws in not one, but two droning dub poems (back to back!) -- "Fiya Red" and "Disarmament Speech" -- which sound to me like just talking . . . and talking . . . and talking.  Then you have "Against All Odds" (no, not the Phil Collins song), which wouldn't be bad if it weren't the most repetitive song in the world.  Sigh.  Believe it or not, though, there are some bright spots.  "Rockstone," "Legends," and the African-influenced "Genetic Order" are all nice tracks, and "Help Us Jah" is a downright excellent song.  There are about 6 songs on Communication that are just unlistenable.  I suppose if they had left those off and made this a 10 or 11-track album, it might be OK . . . but that's kind of like saying if the Titanic had just sailed in the Caribbean it might still be around. . .