Oberlin students woke up Monday to a bitterly cold morning, but those folks who made it to the Culture show that night at the ’Sco got enough warmth and energy to last them until next spring.

Originating in Kingston, Jamaica, Culture, headed by legendary roots reggae pioneer Joseph Hill, has produced over 24 albums throughout their near quarter-century of existence. From their hugely influential debut, 1977’s Two Sevens Clash, to their later releases Payday and Humble African, the trio at the heart of Culture, Albert Walker, Keneth “Paley” Dayes and Hill have produced a body of work and a legacy to rival that of fellow reggae masters Bob Marley and Peter Tosh.
Though Hill’s influences range from these pioneers, to Paul Simon and even the Beatles, as Hill himself said, “I’m more of a trend setter, not a copycat.” Culture’s passion and precision onstage and all the loving fans who gave back every bit of intensity he and his band gave justified his confidence.
Reggae’s vast history and the political struggles that are woven so deeply within its culture can seem intimidating to those who know no more then Marley’s “No Woman No Cry,” but Culture’s performance had enough of a broad appeal to attract everyone from the casual listener to the reggae scholar. As Hill put it, “I’m not here to enjoy, I’m here to spread joy,” and it was the way every song expressed this love for the audience that made his music so powerful.

This “classique style” of roots reggae featured songs from all over the group’s lengthy career: from the ganja anthem “Legalization” off their latest disc Payday, to their hit “Jah Pretty Face” from their ground-breaking debut. Thematically, Hill and crew focused on familiar reggae themes — Rastafarianism, social justice and, last but not least, the mighty herb. “Legalization” featured the catchy hook, “Legalization! Free the ganja herb,” which was followed by the equally potent “International Herb” from the 1979 album of the same name.

One of the most moving tunes of the night was “Equal Rights,” a song dedicated to Peter Tosh (“’nuff respect,” as Hill put it) in which Hill discredited the need for peace without first attaining equal rights and justice for all — an idea that summed up the message behind Culture’s music.

These messages, though, wouldn’t have gone over quite so well if Hill and company hadn’t displayed such sincerity and talent onstage. Though Hill looked at least a decade or two older then his mates, all his years of experience gave him an ease with his music and the crowd that was irresistible. And the few times he busted a move, the audience went nuts cheering him on. Walker and Talford Nelson (who filled in for Dayes) were equally poised, setting up a cool layer of vocal harmony under Hill’s chants and choruses.

To say Culture’s backing band, Forces of Justice, was tight Monday night would be an understatement. Their confidence and pizzazz onstage was matched only by the quality of songs they were performing. As one keyboardist laid down the melodic rhythm, the other’s synthesizer added a trumpet riff or a cascading organ melody on top. The bassist and drummer also maintained an endearing musical relationship onstage — smiling at each other whether they were maintaining a steady beat or making a 90 degree turn. And the band didn’t even miss a beat when Culture’s sound engineer ran delay effects through certain tracks to give their music that classic dub sound.
But the real standout was the guitarist. Decked out in blue silk, dreds, and a conical straw hat, he exhibited exquisite taste in both his rhythm playing and his solos. Though reggae often limits its guitar players to a fairly minimal role, Culture’s guitarist, when prompted, could tear up a solo as well as any Jimmy Page or Kirk Hammet. This was especially true of their last song of the main set, “Not Ashamed,” where a wicked major key guitar riff led into at least two hair-raising and immensely crowd-pleasing solos. These moments were so rock, with the spotlighted guitarist standing in front of the monitors, his face sublimely twisted with sweat pouring down and the audience’s arms raised at a 45 degree angle toward their new hero, one almost thought they were front row at a Van Halen concert rather then a roots reggae show.

That said, Culture’s performance was all about community and the love of reggae music. Seeing everyone from out of town adults to dred-locked Obies, jumping and jiving to the same melodic beat, was a true pleasure and Hill’s positive message and wise-man presence made the event all the more special. Taking the pulse of his audience in between songs, Hill said, “I just feel like this time, isn’t wasted time.” You could almost see the entire crowd nod in unison.