Essence of calypso

Calypso, like all enthralling art forms, creatively reflects human conditions. It is clever harmonisation of words with tunes — the mingling of lyrics and catchy music, which makes bodies move in tandem with the tempo. It is, as Rudder says “a living vibration rooted deep within” the belly of local culture, yet there’s a yearning, today, for its authentic essence.

Great calypsos linger throughout generations like the songs of the unrivalled king of calypso — the Mighty Sparrow. His Jean and Dinah piece lives in the nation’s memory.

Sometimes calypsonians cast themselves as defenders of the people. Here the rebellious, Rastafarian lyricist, the Black Stalin, in his classic metaphor “Dorothy Wait”: “Now on your fans you know your future depends/so I sit down to write smut only to please them/But as I take up meh pen and piece of paper/and I write down the first words/this is what I remember. Dat oil money gone/…and poor people remain on de pavement and ghetto/but when mister divider start/he don’t divide the bread equally/Yes ah goin and finish the whole damn calypso about Dorothy. How I jam she, and she jam me /and we back back/and we roll back/But once my people keep fighting for an equal share of the cake/wait Dorothy, wait Dorothy, wait.”

Lyrics can make “politicians cringe” as in Rudder’s compelling Madman’s Rant — “But I hear a madman bawl as he lean on a wall/He say ‘this is it, this is it, this is it. I’ve been hit. But no time to give up brother: no time to quit’…A chant of a madman is this tale from a strange land.”

Women are, unquestionably, the calypsonians most favourite topic as this timeless piece, dating back to the 1930’s, amusingly captures: “Tell me where you been last night Caroline/Tell me where you been last night Caroline/ Last night by Piccadilly if it weren’t you, who could it be? So tell me where you been last night, Caroline…”

In this limerick from the 1940’s the Growling Tiger vividly portrayed the early era of Shango. “Everywhere you breathe in the atmosphere/You bound to hear a Shango drum beating far or near/A choir of voices singing so loud/As if they want to burst a hole in the cloud…” There is beauty in the line “burst a hole in the cloud,” which conveys the intensity and purity of Shango mantras.

It was the Lord Kitchener who, perhaps more than any other calypsonian, celebrated the steelpan and the panman. In the 40’s he sang: “Port of Spain nearly catch afire/when the steelband was crossing the Dry River/Zigilie, leader of the ping pong/had people jumping wild in de town…”

His celebratory ditties were picked up by the Mighty Terror: “What a talent, excellent talent/You hear what I say/Steelband music is the greatest talent today.”

Four decades later in the 1980s, there emerged a young king named David Rudder who immortalised a legendary panman in kaiso. The legend’s ghost still reigns over all who passes below ‘de Hill’: “Somewhere up in Laventille many years ago/a man had a hammer, used to follow it to and fro/He used to use it to pound a pan/Or sometimes a stupid man/All in the savannah, never miss Panorama/One day the old hammer just disappeared/…some say that it vanished into thin air/…where the man with the hammer gone/Tell me, tell me where he gone…”

And the bittersweet violent days of steelbands were extolled by Kitchener: “The road made to walk on Carnival day/Constable I don’t want to talk what I have to say/Any steelband man only venture to stop this/ and is a long funeral from the Royal Hospital/…But tell them, don’t worry with me/Is a different thing,1963/…They tell me Tokyo is a danger with Desperadoes/They even call Sun Valley, Trinidad All Stars and Tripoli/They could play they mas’/So long as they don’t tackle me when they pass.”

Try as he may to forget calypso, the bassman haunted the Mighty Shadow: “I was planning to forget Calypso/ And go and plant peas in Tobago/ But I am afraid/ I can’t make the grade/ Cause every night I lie down in meh bed/ I hearing a bassman in meh head/I don’t know how this thing get inside me/ But every morning, he driving me crazy/ Like he taking meh head for a pan yard/ Morning and evening, like this fella gone mad/ pim pom...”

And the endearing compatriot the Black Stalin — sang one of the masterpieces in the annals of Caribbean song. “…For we country facing its darkest hour/…And need us today more than ever/But in our fight to recover/If ever you feel to surrender/It have one little thing I want you to remember. We could make it if we try/Just a little harder/If we just give one more try/Life will be much sweeter…”

Happy Carnival!