Even before the band hit the stage you knew it was going to be an unforgettable night - out front, as you pass the desperate people seeking tickets for a sold-out gig; inside, as the crowd gathers - the way it does with reggae - from all walks of life; and as you connect with them on that soon-to-see-living-legend buzz, the man who needs no introduction receives an almighty introduction - and at long last arrives.
From beginning to end, Toots is effervescent with enthusiasm and Elvis-like showmanship. Even without his ten-piece band he’d have raised the roof with his unbelievably robust voice. And as he shifts smoothly between reggae, ska and rock ‘n’ roll, the crowd is utterly enraptured. Raised hands front to back, sing-a-longs like I’ve never before witnessed in this town and a soaring room temperature that would have you believe – if it weren’t for that darned smoking law – that you were in Jamaica.
That is before the whole funky Kingston vibe gets squashed by the bring-you-back-down-to-Dublin technical problems. Toots is not impressed. In fact, he’s quite angered, even leading the crowd in a pleading chant, “Engineer! Engineer!”. After an inexcusably long period the microphone is restored to full working order and the party continues at full steam. The classics are belted out (‘Pressure Drop’, ‘Reggae Got Soul’, ‘Funky Kingston’, ‘54-46 That’s My Number’, etc) as is a glorious rendition of John Denver’s ‘Take Me Home Country Roads’. And while they tried, there were no security guards stepping on Toots’ toes when he started pulling people up for an onstage party. For those 30 people and for everyone else on hand, Toots and the Maytals provided an all too rare (tech problems aside) experience in Dublin.