8 minute read

Into the Pot

The official music of Carnival is Calypso. Well, yes and no (did I mention our contradictions? The Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday are the two official Carnival Days when almost nobody goes to work – but yet they are not official public holidays. Go figure). Calypso is the best-known music of Trinidad and Tobago. But what you might know of Calypso could be anything from Harry Belafonte to those cheesy snatches of the Hollywood Caribbean stereotype. That Calypso doesn’t really exist. The real thing is far more interesting.

Historically, or so it is said, Calypso was derived from songs the 19th century slaves sang to communicate with each other, when other forms of contact was banned. It is also said that the Calypso singer, or Calypsonian, is a descendant of French balladeer s– all very interesting, I’m sure. But, in our lifetime, Calypsoes have been the de facto folk songs of the era, capturing in brilliant detail the issues of the day

For convenience, let’s just say that the term Calypso encompasses all the sung musical material that forms part of the Carnival experience. Its sub-categories include Kaiso, Soca, R agga-Soca, R apso and Chutney Soca. The artform is in transition, as it always has been, but the older practitioners have great difficulty accepting the changes that are taking place. They also seem not to relish passing the baton to newcomers. And therein lies the tension.

Soca is the domain of the young and young-at-heart. At upwards of 140 beats per minute, it is not for the weak, singers and patrons alike. And the new Soca stars have that special charisma. You will quickly come to hear names like Bunji, Machel, Destra, Shurwayne and Maximus thrown around. They will be everywhere. And you will be convinced that, with all the popularity that is evident, all’s well with Calypso. But this is Trinbago. We don’t do “all’s well”.

The Kaiso singers (Kaisonians) of today have been around a long time, most from the sixties and before. They uncompromisingly embrace Kaiso their own, legitimately inherited from the founding fathers of the 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. Except for the use of modern electronic instruments and an increased presence of the snare drum, it has remained virtually unchanged for over fifty years. It’s tough to give up that heritage without a fight.

But there has been an international phenomenon from which few cultures have escaped. In the late sixties, the Disc Jockey (DJ) was the person who played the records. Simple as that. He eventually realised that, if he played the songs in a particular order, he could control the mood of the party Back then it might have been nothing more than grouping the “slows” together for

Kaiso is the Calypso form that has been around the longest. It is normally slower than the others because the lyrics are its most important facet. Kaiso is used to comment on social issues, ridicule politicians, raise consciousness or provide comedic relief Although it is rhythmic, listening – not dancing –is its participatory intent.

Soca is considered the party alterego of kaiso. Although it can also be used to make social commentary, its purpose is to get you up and on the floor. It is literally impossible to resist. The name Soca came from the two words “soul” and “calypso” and was originally an experimental blend of Calypso and East Indian rhythms. Thirty years down the road since its birth, today ’s Soca bears little resemblance to that formula. Its purpose, however, has not changed. Ragga-Soca is the spicing of Soca with Jamaican Dancehall music.

Rapso is our version of poetry put to rhythm and gets its name from the two words “Rap” and “Calypso”.

Chutney Soca is how the East Indian culture of Trinbago crosses over into the world of Soca. At first it was a way for that community to assert itself in response to a barrage of what was considered predominantly African music and, as such, could have become divisive and discriminatory However, nowadays, Chutney Soca hits are among the biggest of the Carnival. That potential racial tension has produced something unique and unquestionably national from page 17 ultimately digital recording. For the DJ, anything was possible! In fact, it became in their interest to dictate the tempos and styles of songs being produced so that they could, in turn, “perform” them on their turntables and mixers. They could even produce the material themselves and, through repetitive play, create a taste in the public where none might otherwise have existed. The delivery system had hijacked the message.

Thus there arrived an abundance of DJflavoured recordings which, by and large, bore little relation to what artistes wanted to produce or people wanted to hear Invariably, the material was simpler, less musically complex and with more talking/shouting than singing. Communication between artiste and audience had become dependant on the DJ as middleman and had paid the price. It was time to adapt or drop out.

A possible antidote might have been to have a more direct relationship between

Winston Scarborough, better known as The Original de Fosto the singers and their listeners, through live performances. But it’s so much easier, and cheaper, to put on a record or CD, than to hire a band and the required sound system. Still, live shows are many at Carnival time and this may be why the DJ phenomenon has not completely broken the back of the industry Kaisonians get to perform in the Calypso Tents and shows and Soca artistes have the fetes. On top of that, there are big national Carnival c ompetitions for just about every version of Calypso (e.g. Calypso Monarch, Soca Monarch, R agga-Soca Monarch, Pan Kaiso Monarch, Road March Monarch, Chutney Monarch, R apso, Extempo and so on). This continues to provide the fuel for exciting compositions and performances. when for the creation and establishment of a hit and the successful singer can tour all year, earning very good money

Himself, deliberately creates his calypsoes to favour the steelbands.

In the past, Carnival was the only time Calypso enjoyed radio airplay and commercial regard but, fortunately, that has changed. The latest trend is that the new radio and television stations are boasting that they only play “we culture”.

This may be a curiously unforeseen backlash of the dreaded cultural invasion that we had feared with the coming of Satellite and Cable TV and the Internet. It could be that, after viewing everything the rest of the world had to offer, we have become tired of it – the novelty and mystery have gone – and now thirst for our own anew Only time will tell if this too is a passing phase.

So, you see, Kaisonians and DJs are not exactly bosom-buddies. Soca better fits what DJs need. And DJs can be very influential in making a new song a hit. And that is the bottom line. With a hit, an artiste becomes a marketable commodity, not just locally, but internationally, wherever there is a West Indian community and the semblance of a Trinbago -style Carnival (e.g. Jamaica, St. Vincent, Grenada, Barbados, Antigua, Toronto, London, Atlanta, Washington, Orlando, New York, Miami... there may be as many as 20 to 30 mini- Carnivals worldwide, which can be exploited if one knows how).

The tension between Kaisonians and Soca singers is real. Even if it is real only because it is perceived to be real. Every year we hear the old-timers complain that the new stuff lacks the wit, melody and craftsmanship so well established by the traditional. They say it’s too fast, too inane, too crude, too uninspired. In return, the young stars say that they are doing what the people want. Of course, money is money and, as such, there are Kaisonians who put out Soca to try to share in the bounty Imagine, at Carnival time, a singer with a hit can command as much as TT$3,000 for a single appearance and, with bookings for 4 or 5 fetes for any one night, can go home with an average of TT$10,000! And add touring to that! That’s enough to break with tradition.

Live appearances are what bring in the dollars, at home or abroad. In Trinbago, advertise himself, not as a means to earn money through sales. This is in sharp contrast to what occurs in the big countries where tours promote CD sales and are often sponsored. For us, CDs promote tours. But with all the amazing potential of our music, there is no structured marketing and merchandising. There are still artistes who go door-to -door and sell their wares, one-by- one. Meanwhile, hungry Calypso lovers overseas have difficulty finding their works in the record stores. It is an irony which many have tried to and few have succeeded in avoiding.

But what does the future hold? There are as many opinions as there are persons who will give you an answer Brian London is a 27-year old Kaisonian He grew up in Kaiso. He loves it and refuses to see it die and, in so doing, has managed to carve a pretty lucrative niche for himself (he has won many prestigious competitions a nd even placed second in 2004 in the competition- of-competitions, the Calypso Monarch). But Brian has gotten the unshakeable impression that, instead of the old bards advising and guiding him to take over when they leave, they make it as difficult as possible. They tell him he still has to “pay his dues”. With this sort of oppression and frustration, Kaiso runs the risk of fading into history when its generation is gone (Brian estimates that there are as few as 10 young Kaiso hopefuls who might still continue to run the course). But I know that Kaiso is very much alive in school and amateur competitions, where one can truly see promising talent. It may not be dying just yet.

Alvin Daniel, a Calypso connoisseur, host of popular Calypso television shows and music producer/composer, feels that there is room for all ingredients in this stew Although they might appear to be in competition with each other, the organic whole is alive and well. He says, “ There are several directions in which the Trinbago artiste can go. He or she has to make a choice. If they want to be a poet and die poor, there is a lot of room for that. If they want to sing what some might consider continued on page 20 to be crap and make money, there is also a lot of room for that. Or, if they walk the middle of the road and give the public what they are already programmed to readily consume, while retaining originality and standards, they can survive, albeit with only a hit- or-miss certainty ”.

Then there those who say to let Nature take its course. “If K aiso has to die, let it die. Archive it if you must but don’t fight change”. There has always been change, they say, and there always will be. “For example, there was a time when singing Kaiso was regarded as the recourse of the underprivileged, as was playing steelpan. Also, Chutney has changed the ethnic tone of Calpyso and a Soca hit (Kevin Lyttle’s “Turn Me On”) has gone to the top of the charts worldwide. These are all things we thought we’d never see. So just go with the flow!”

Personally, I see our melting pot as more like a petri dish, that little controlled environment where the scientist can grow his cultures. When it’s ready, he skims it off and makes it available to the world. Penicillin is no more a wonder than our Calypso. It may seem like a mess while it’s in the dish but what it produces is for your benefit.

You have come at a good time. Enjoy the stew I wish I could see through your eyes and hear through your ears.

For that I am jealous.

Roger Israel is a theatrical composer, studio operator, musician, arranger and producer.

By the way, if you have difficulty finding recordings of any music that you fall in love with in Trinbago, check Alvin atMajor & Minor Productions Limited (www.majorandminor.com)

Mobile: (868) 680-1718, Tel: (868) 628-5722, Fax: (868) 632-5775

E-mail: daniell@wow.net

Interesting Calypso information is available on-line: www.tuco.co.tt

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