Peter Tosh - Wanted Dread & Alive (LP) - Yellow Vinyl

Peter Tosh’s fifth solo LP, Wanted Dread or Alive, landed in 1981 on Rolling Stones Records, and it still hits with a calm, flinty authority. The cover sets the tone, a sepia wanted poster that frames Tosh not as an outlaw for shock value, but as a man marked for speaking plainly. You drop the needle and the intent is clear. This is heavy roots wisdom meeting early 80s sheen, a sharp-edged record that carries its weight with a steady gait.

“Coming In Hot” opens the set and earns its place among the best album starters of Tosh’s career. The groove is tight and unhurried, the guitar lines lick at the beat, and the bass moves like a tide you can trust. Tosh’s voice sits in that rich, measured pocket he made his own. He doesn’t bark. He doesn’t rush. He declares. It is militant in spirit but musical in every breath, a reminder that he was always about uplift and clarity rather than bluster.

Then comes “Reggaemylitis,” a cheeky title that points to the whole-body pull of this music. The hook lodges itself straight away, and the band locks into a sunny sway that makes the political bite of Tosh’s broader project feel even more subversive. Few artists could turn a pun into a small philosophy, yet here it works. The tune plays like a love letter to the culture and the crowd, the way a room warms when a proper one-drop hits. You can hear why it became a long-time fan favourite.

His take on “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” is the other obvious signpost. Rather than chase Dylan’s ache, Tosh strips it back to a righteous shuffle, letting the chorus bloom with harmonies that carry both sorrow and strength. It is less a cover than a translation. The gunfighter fades and a wounded community steps forward, asking for mercy with a steady pulse and a clear head. It is a quiet masterstroke and one of the reasons people still chase Wanted Dread or Alive vinyl pressings when they’re going deep on Peter Tosh vinyl.

Across the LP, Tosh’s writing balances the moral spine he never abandoned with a production polish that marks the period. The drums snap a little brighter than on his 70s sets, the keys shimmer in a way that nods to early 80s studios, and the guitars give space for his voice to carry the message. If you’ve spent time with Legalize It and Equal Rights, you’ll hear the shift straight away, yet his compass doesn’t budge. He stands for dignity, spiritual resilience, and the right to live free. He just packages it in a mix that can sit beside anything from the era without losing its roots grit.

What keeps the record fresh is Tosh’s sense of proportion. He knows when to turn the heat up and when to let a line hang. He also trusts groove as a form of persuasion. The songs don’t overstay their welcome. Each one feels carved rather than stacked, built from strong parts that interlock. It puts the LP in that sweet spot where you can sit and study the arrangements or let it soundtrack a late arvo with friends and a cool breeze through the window.

Collectors will tell you this is a rewarding stop if you’re mapping Peter Tosh albums on vinyl, not only because of the highlights, but because the sequencing gives it a clean arc. Side one brings the punch. Side two leans into reflection without dropping the pulse. If you find a tidy original on Rolling Stones Records, you’re in for a pleasingly warm cut. A good reissue will still do the business, though, especially if you’re building a set from scratch and want sturdy copies you can spin often.

I first fell for this one after hearing “Coming In Hot” at a small Melbourne record store, the kind where the reggae bins are well loved and the staff know exactly which pressing you mean when you ask. It sounded massive on the shop system. That same feeling carries home. Even through modest speakers, the album keeps its poise. It’s the kind of record that makes sense to people who browse vinyl records Australia wide and want a piece that sits beside Marley, Steel Pulse, and Black Uhuru while holding its own character.

If you’re keen to buy Peter Tosh records online, don’t sleep on this. Wanted Dread or Alive shows a master finding a slightly glossier frame without sacrificing principle. It’s persuasive, grounded, and full of performances that reward repeat listens. In other words, exactly what you want from a classic-era Tosh album, and a strong recommendation whether you’re chasing a clean reissue or the kind of copy that’s lived a little and still spins true.