Going into the family business is always a dicey proposition. That goes triple if the family business is music. The record bins are filled with the sires of music royalty trying to make their way. Now, imagine if your father is considered the undisputed king. No, the offspring I’m talking about isn’t Lisa Marie Presley, but Ziggy Marley, whose father Bob is not only considered the greatest reggae musician ever, but is arguably the only one most people know. Ziggy is always first and foremost the “son of Bob.” This is compounded by the fact that out of all of the Marley children who perform, only Ziggy’s voice is nearly a carbon copy of his father’s. So, despite the fact that with a career spanning three decades, 14 studio albums (10 with the Melody Makers, four as a solo artist) and four live albums (one with the Melody Makers and three as a solo artist), for the general public, Ziggy still exists in the shadow of his father. But that hasn’t and doesn’t seem to slow down or stop Ziggy, who’s releasing his fifth solo record, Fly Rasta (Tuff Gong).

When your father is literally the face of reggae, one would presume that you’d try to get as far away as possible from the genre. Yet, Ziggy has always embraced his roots with the occasional sonic dabbling in other styles. Fly Rasta continues in that tradition while at the same time bringing in styles that have nothing at all to do with reggae. Overall, the results are solid, but not everything lands solidly. The album opener, “I Don’t Wanna Live on Mars” goes in a quite unexpected pop-rock direction. While it’s not bad, it does seem like something designed to have been played on the Jay Leno version of The Tonight Show. (Is it too late to make “Jay Leno rock” a thing?) Lyrically, it’s in line with Ziggy’s oeuvre, but sonically it just hangs together like an ill-fitting shirt. The title track gets things back on track with an interesting blend of dancehall chanting and roots reggae, but more interesting is that it features background vocals that seem to channel the I-Threes, his father’s legendary backup vocalists. It’s a welcome nod to the past that pops up on other occasions on the album.

But there are also many distinct differences between Ziggy and his old man. Other than “You,” no song really gets as sonically heavy as some of the Wailers’ best work. The album certainly is not as rock steady–based or ska-influenced as his dad’s music; reggae traditionally focuses on a powerhouse rhythm section to drive the songs along, but Ziggy instead takes a lighter approach, with stripped down acoustic numbers and the sweetly earnest and slightly punny “You’re My Yoko.” That song teeters on the verge of being epically eye rolling, but is saved by the chorus. Thematically, Fly Rasta ranges from loves songs, political undertones, Rastafarian philosophy and dare it be said, “One Love” songs informed by the father’s legacy, but equally rooted in that of the son.