There are few things more absurd than standing outside a reggae concert while arguing about missing credentials.
Inside Cal Coast Credit Union Open Air Theatre on Saturday night, clouds of marijuana drifted through the warm San Diego air, thousands of fans swayed to one of reggae's most celebrated musical bloodlines, and Ziggy Marley was preparing to deliver exactly the kind of uplifting, joyous performance his family legacy promises.
Outside, however, your humble reviewer was discovering that "Love Is My Religion" was becoming increasingly difficult to practice. After spending days helping promote the show and coordinating coverage, the tickets that were supposed to be waiting at will call were not. My photographer's credentials were also nowhere to be found, causing him to miss access for much of Burning Spear's opening set while venue staff, management, and promoters attempted to sort out a problem that should never have existed in the first place.
For a brief period, love was not my religion. Frustration was. The irony was impossible to ignore.
Thankfully, once inside, the music largely redeemed the evening. The smell of cannabis hung over the venue like incense. Fans danced in the aisles. Conversations flowed between strangers. For a few hours, Cal Coast felt less like a university amphitheater and more like a communal celebration built around one of music's most enduring messages: unity.
Burning Spear opened the evening with the quiet confidence of a living legend. At 81 years old, Winston Rodney remains one of reggae's most important and influential voices. There are artists who perform songs, and there are artists who embody entire movements. Burning Spear falls firmly into the latter category. His music has always carried spiritual weight, political consciousness, and cultural purpose. Even from the portions of the set we were able to experience, it was clear the audience understood they were witnessing one of reggae's foundational architects.
Burning Spear opened the evening with the quiet confidence of a living legend. At 81 years old, Winston Rodney remains one of reggae's most important and influential voices. There are artists who perform songs, and there are artists who embody entire movements. Burning Spear falls firmly into the latter category. His music has always carried spiritual weight, political consciousness, and cultural purpose. Even from the portions of the set we were able to experience, it was clear the audience understood they were witnessing one of reggae's foundational architects.
Then came Ziggy Marley. For anyone who has never seen him live, the resemblance to his father is striking, though not in the superficial ways one might expect. It isn't merely the voice, though there are moments where closing your eyes can transport you back decades. It isn't even the appearance. It's the movement.
The way he dances. The way he bounces with the rhythm. The way he seems to float across a groove rather than simply perform on top of it.
Watching Ziggy is perhaps the closest younger audiences will ever come to understanding what it must have felt like to see Bob Marley command a stage.
His set balanced original material with selections from his father's immortal catalog. Songs like "Jah We Give Glory," "Rebellion Rises," and "Circle of Peace" reinforced Ziggy's longstanding commitment to social consciousness and optimism. "Beach in Hawaii" brought a lighter energy before the crowd erupted for "Jamming," "Is This Love," and the encore performance of "Could You Be Loved."
The way he dances. The way he bounces with the rhythm. The way he seems to float across a groove rather than simply perform on top of it.
Watching Ziggy is perhaps the closest younger audiences will ever come to understanding what it must have felt like to see Bob Marley command a stage.
His set balanced original material with selections from his father's immortal catalog. Songs like "Jah We Give Glory," "Rebellion Rises," and "Circle of Peace" reinforced Ziggy's longstanding commitment to social consciousness and optimism. "Beach in Hawaii" brought a lighter energy before the crowd erupted for "Jamming," "Is This Love," and the encore performance of "Could You Be Loved."
The highlight, however, may have been "Love Is My Religion." The song remains one of Ziggy's defining achievements because it distills reggae's deepest values into something remarkably simple and accessible. In an era where outrage often feels like a business model, the song's central message remains radical in its simplicity.
Be kind. Love people. Choose connection over division. Saturday night's audience embraced every word.
Yet despite the positivity onstage, it would be impossible to review the evening honestly without addressing some of the operational issues surrounding the event.
Cal Coast Open Air Theatre continues to have some of the most aggressive and often unnecessary security in San Diego's concert scene. The combination of credential confusion, restricted access, inconsistent communication, and excessive security oversight once inside created unnecessary friction before the music even began.
Be kind. Love people. Choose connection over division. Saturday night's audience embraced every word.
Yet despite the positivity onstage, it would be impossible to review the evening honestly without addressing some of the operational issues surrounding the event.
Cal Coast Open Air Theatre continues to have some of the most aggressive and often unnecessary security in San Diego's concert scene. The combination of credential confusion, restricted access, inconsistent communication, and excessive security oversight once inside created unnecessary friction before the music even began.
There is a difference between keeping people safe and treating every concertgoer like they're attempting a prison break. The venue would be wise to remember that distinction.
Because the reality is that Ziggy Marley spent two hours preaching unity, joy, compassion, and community. The audience showed up ready to receive that message. The music delivered. The infrastructure surrounding the event did not always keep pace.
Still, great artists have a way of cutting through noise, confusion, and logistical headaches. By the time Ziggy closed with "Brightside," the frustrations of the evening had largely faded. The crowd danced. The amphitheater glowed beneath the summer night sky. Thousands of people left smiling.
And perhaps that's the true measure of the night. Despite everything that happened before the show, Ziggy Marley ultimately accomplished exactly what he set out to do.
He made love my religion again.
Originally published on June 21, 2026. Photos by Tom Searcy of Zilla Media.
Because the reality is that Ziggy Marley spent two hours preaching unity, joy, compassion, and community. The audience showed up ready to receive that message. The music delivered. The infrastructure surrounding the event did not always keep pace.
Still, great artists have a way of cutting through noise, confusion, and logistical headaches. By the time Ziggy closed with "Brightside," the frustrations of the evening had largely faded. The crowd danced. The amphitheater glowed beneath the summer night sky. Thousands of people left smiling.
And perhaps that's the true measure of the night. Despite everything that happened before the show, Ziggy Marley ultimately accomplished exactly what he set out to do.
He made love my religion again.
Originally published on June 21, 2026. Photos by Tom Searcy of Zilla Media.
