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Starting Black History Month off in a unique way, Daniel Caesar released a cover of the reggae classic, “Waiting in Vain” by Bob Marley and the Wailers, on Feb. 2. The cover will feature as part of the soundtrack for the upcoming film, “Bob Marley: One Love,” which will be released this Valentine's Day. Caesar’s song comes as a soulful surprise; while Marley’s reggae sound is arguably one of the most cherished and definitive characteristics of his musical catalog, its twangy, reggae origins have all but been rewritten in this new cover. Although some may interpret this decision as a misguided attempt to Americanize an untouchable reggae classic, this song is also a testament to both the multiplicity and commonality of the Black experience and diaspora.

While both Caesar’s cover and Marley’s original song share the same lyrics, they are each reflective of the influences, values, and personalities of their respective vocalists. In Caesar's new rendition, he changes the instrumental entirely by stripping it down and implementing a synth, simple percussion, and a plucky baseline. The sound is modern, sincere, and slow, composed of mostly the simple bass melody. “From the very first time I blessed my eyes on you, girl/ My heart says, ‘follow through,’” he sings. His delivery of the line draws the listener in and makes them question if they’ve heard this before. His astounding presence as a vocalist shines through — his words, as opposed to the instrumental, are the focal point of the song. Caesar makes intentional choices about his cadence and emphasis, deviating from the original in a way that lends the lyrics to his identity as an artist. His voice is bittersweet and soft, and at times he utilizes a slight vocal tension which offers a lyrical interpretation that feels like passionate and honest yearning.

Born to Jamaican gospel singer father Norwill Simmonds, Caesar struggled to live within the boundaries imposed on him by his family and the Church until he eventually left home at 17 to pursue music. Despite his father's Caribbean heritage, he doesn’t often cite reggae or any other distinct West Indian genres as major sources of inspiration for his music. He instead cites gospel, soul, and contemporary artists like Frank Ocean and Beyoncé.

He often describes the tensions between himself and his father, comparing it to “when you put a grain of sand in a pearl,” but also stating: “I’m thankful, I’m here because of that friction that we [Caesar and Simmonds] had.” Every child of an immigrant knows how difficult it is to refuse the boundaries placed upon them by their parents and the culture and influences that inform their background. It's especially difficult when those expectations don’t match one’s personal perception of self and success. That part of Caesar's story is arguably universal across the Black diaspora, making his interpretation of this classic all the more powerful. His rendition of the song transcends genre and uses modern tools and influences to create something that is both true to the original and wholly new.

While the song feels like a complete reimagining upon a first listen, the references and intentional deviations from the original become clear upon closer listening. Around two minutes in, the song reaches a powerful vocal and percussive climax featuring faster, more prominent, and slightly offbeat drums, working in the gaps of the previous tempo. Caesar utilizes symbols and vocal tightness, changing tempo in a way that is almost hypnotic, yet managing to again center his delivery of the lyrics.

While the same moment occurs in the original, the instrumentals are the focus. Marley’s version contains instrumental flourishes and other various stringed instruments, whereas, in Caesar’s version, the drum percussion is more developed and is itself the instrumental ornamentation. He calls attention to Marley’s legacy but adjusts it — altering it in a way that is more true to his artistic sound and storytelling. It is derivative but inspired. Even when he adheres to the original vocal melody, he creates his own unique moments. At times he slows down where Marley speeds up, holds notes, pauses between syllables, or strains for emphasis, all to create a new atmosphere of melancholic, and yet, optimistic longing. “You see, in life I know thеre's lots of grief / But your love is my relief,” he sings.

Speaking about his aspirations for his own music and some of his musical inspiration, Caesar said, “Some of the songs, you hear them and you know that that's an original song that he wrote that just came but it's almost like it was already there …of course, this song has to exist these feelings exists.” This song encapsulates that exact sentiment. It embodies the coexistence of present and past, of homeland and diaspora, of son and father. It tells the story of lovers, children, and anyone who has ever experienced longing. The lack of reggae instrumental may be unforgivable, but this new and beautiful rendition of the song allowed Marley’s lyricism and compositional sense to transcend genre, similar to how the diversity and similarities of Black identities and cultures transcend spatial, musical, and generational bounds.