The times are about social and sexual energy, “bubbling”, and “hands in ah de air,” all driven by the need for expression of bottled-up energy, much of it against the mores of times past of propriety, which then made alliances with the establishment.
Melodic sweetness in calypso, lyrical quality, double entendre, wit, imagination and spicy lyrical content within conventional morality are not features that are driving the composers and singers anymore.
The soca men and women are now getting their vibes from the jammers, and they in return feed off the energy of the music and vibrations. Observe them, the jammers and the singers/screamers; the interplay of energy is visceral, and it has been with us for two decades; the last golden age of calypso having lasted till the turn of the century, then it was in the realm of the mind and the appreciation for storytelling with rhyme, rhythm and melodies which touched the inner soul with “groovy vibrations.”
All of that has been driven into submission, hopefully not extinction. I contest that none of the soca artistes, male or female, of the present captured that anti-status quo movement in meaningfulness and energy as well as MX Prime and the Ultimate Rejects.
He, they, took the zeal for self-expression and freedom “To the full extreme.” And called on the society to “make way for de Youths because we Jammin’ still … Oh Lord, de city could bun down, we jammin’ still … no we doh business … oh God the economy could fall down … we jammin’ still.”
The call and warning signal came not at the start of the era of jammin’; it germinated a third of the way into the movement of our times; revolutions often reach their peak years after emerging and explode with many dying a natural death thereafter.
But there are still a few hangovers from the previous era when rhyme and rhythm sweetened a more controlled jammin’. Blue Boy/Super Blue is still around and meaningful “and wining but decently.”
Machel is without a doubt the leading apostle of the jammin’ times; even if last year, placed in an environment of thought, he demonstrated that he knows what good calypso and music are all about. The present, however, requires that he returns quickly and adroitly to secure his hold on his audience rooted in the energy-driven vibrations of the times.
Kes has achieved something of a middle ground, with understandable lyrics and language being other issues. There are a few others in such a category.
This year, Yung Bredda (a name reflecting the times) has made an impression on good kaiso and drawn those who know quality lyrics and melody into his embrace. His good looks and easy styling have given the national community another picture of the youth coming out of Sea Lots, that place of “castaways and shipwrecks” within the city limits.
He is persuasive in his exclamation “that we can rise again from the shadows and leave the darkness behind,” he having been “born and grow in de ghetto, ah learn to make joy from sorrow even though it was hardship and pain ah see the blessings falling like rain.”
Skinner Park, long a testing ground for quality calypso and calypsonians, endorsed Akhenaton like a Pharaoh of old Egypt; let’s see how he performs in Babylon. Calypso is never an art form on its own. It preceded the steelpan and band, the two having grown up together in the same environment. The Mighty Sparrow linked them in travail as the “Outcasts, if yuh sister talk to ah steelband man, yuh family want to break she hand.”
There is no contest between the modern steelpan in terms of the quality of the sound of the instruments and the playing ability of the pannists, the moderns being streams ahead not only in terms of the range of the pan playing but also in the displays of deep togetherness; the players, girls, boys, women and men are locked in with the instruments of their ancestors.
Boogsie and Dane Gulston are amongst the masters of the day. Old-timers will argue to the last that none of them reached within touching distance of the sweetness of the feel of “Cobo Jack” Riley and Invaders with Liebestraum.
Almost 50 years ago, Maestro raised the issue of “too much Boom Bam” which had the “Judges saying dey ent know what you beating … de tune have to come out plainly.” He was complaining about the predominance of the bass stifling the tenors and negating the “tune”.
My contest, along with ah old-time panman from the glory days of Bertie Marshall’s Highlanders from Laventille, is that speed, lightning runs on the pans, complicated arrangements have taken over, and like Maestro, I am complaining that I don’t know “what tune dey playing.”
That is complicated by the above, ie, the lack of sweetness in the calypso melodies of the age. All of the above-identified challenges and more need research and untangling. J’Ouvert morning, I listening and wining decently to sweet pan and melodies by Victoria Square: Sherman, yuh coming out?
Tony Rakhal-Fraser—freelance journalist, former reporter/current affairs programme host and news director at TTT, programme producer/current affairs director at Radio Trinidad, correspondent for the BBC Caribbean Service and the Associated Press, graduate of UWI, CARIMAC, Mona, and St Augustine–Institute of International Relations.
