Who killed calypso?

The record, which featured the quirky Banana Boat, topped the Billboard charts in March, September and November that year, outshining Elvis Presley, then at his peak, Doris Day and others.

Calypso, we all know, wasn’t quintessential calypso, although Belafonte’s commercial success has never been matched, not even by the internationally acclaimed genius Sparrow.

Belafonte fed richly off the creativity of Melody, who died a pauper in 1988, and Sparrow, in a tribute song to his fallen pal, asked the New York crooner to say “what happen to Melo’s millions.” The year 1956 was a watershed one in Trinidad and Tobago, with the birth of its most successful and enduring political party and launch of organised self-government.

In the succeeding 61 years, no TT calypso artiste has matched Belafonte’s historic business success and international branding, even with larger, more inter-connected and diverse communities to entertain.

And, from the evidence of 2017 and recent years, there is little chance of the world craving TT ’s current calypso fare.

Many diehard calypso aficionados are shying from acknowledging that the treasured native art form is on life support, having fallen on its own sharp sword.

The just-ended Carnival season saw more artistes than patrons at some calypso tents, while there are few recordings, little material deserving of encore airplay and virtually no international gigs.

Fans would be hard-pressed to sing a verse of any renditions over the past, say, five years.

Trinidad and Tobago’s indigenous cultural expression has been in hasty retreat since its prior salad days, then indicated by imaginative subjects, original music and lyrics of subtlety, bravado and artistry.

Today, hackneyed themes, barren melodies, timeworn lyrics and poor artistic stagecraft — on lavish display at the Dimanche Gras final — define calypso.

In a lacklustre event, Chalkdust was the obvious 2017 winner, but he opted for calypso’s softest target — the conflict-ridden Sat Maharaj — instead of a hot-button social issue, such as the crime plague, national unease or the Prime Minister’s loose lips.

Chalkie has long gotten the memo: That calypso dramatically changed course two decades ago, after Basdeo Panday assumed national leadership.

The evidence is crystal clear, to the point that Alvin Daniel, a calypso stakeholder, said during the television Dimanche Gras commentary that Lady Gypsy was “brave” to challenge the political status quo.

There now appears no place for critical thinking and balanced political commentaries, which were essential and enduring hallmarks of the discipline.

One exponent won the crown some years ago after he brought the party’s leader on stage and brandished the organisation’s symbol.

Chalkie’s reversal is particularly unfortunate.

He is not only a student of the art’s long and historic struggle, but he overcame strident efforts by then-maximum leader Dr Eric Williams to have him silenced.

For his courageous and withering calypso offerings, Chalkdust was targeted, on the spurious grounds that he was a public servant, a teacher.

He held strong against the all-powerful Williams, intoning at one time: “If dey want to keep me down/Tell dem to cut out mih tongue.” Frustrated, Williams famously uttered, “Let the jackass bray!” For years, Chalkdust held true to calypso’s fierce autonomy, challenging draconian Attorney General Karl Hudson-Phillips (Ah ’Fraid Karl), ANR Robinson (Driver Can’t Drive) and Patrick Manning (Selwyn in the Garden Hiding).

To be sure, Chalkie is a significant long-serving calypso raconteur, but now a mere shadow of his take-no-prisoners persona.

It’s almost lamentable that he has overtaken Sparrow as the most decorated monarch, the latter acknowledged for the courage of his convictions as much as his unparalleled artistry.

Birdie supported Williams’ tax plan and other early measures, but turned sharply over the Patrick Solomon affair and documented his anti- PNM angst with the seminal 1982 We Like It So.

Intellectual honesty is a vital aspect of his legacy.

“By calypsoes our stories are told,” Sniper observed, and David Rudder heralded its tradition of “lyrics to make a politician cringe.” But today’s version generally lacks the creative honesty, flair, ingenuity and poetic mastery which had pitchforked calypso as an outstanding creative expression.

There surely must be a national clamour for a calypso renaissance, and the Trinbago Unified Calypsonians Organisation (TUCO ) must assure there is a place for practitioners who call a political spade a spade.

Also, Sparrow, Stalin, Shadow and other accomplished bards must be recruited — by the Ministry of Culture, the university, TUCO or any other authority — to lecture on the fine art of lyrical composition, musical originality and stagecraft.

We cannot afford another year of calypso decay.

While calypso’s prognosis remains guarded, its offspring, soca, basked in MX Prime’s memorable Road March for the ages and Voice’s abiding faith in himself and his country.

Prime’s number escapes the formulaic Road Marches at frenetic pace, and tells a well-crafted and layered story of Trini abandon; the song would entertain revellers for decades to come.

Voice’s spirit of optimism and self-belief is refreshing, especially from a youth in a troubled society.

As for calypso’s future, it would be great to hear Chalkdust’s thoughts — in song.