To close off three weeks of writing about the local music scene, I am zooming in on a genre that in Guyana at least, seems to have lost its steam.
Calypso, said to be the oldest genre of Caribbean music, and which has been around since the days of slavery, has been taking a licking in Guyana for more than a decade now. And every year, sadly, it gets worse.
Calypso has become so beaten down, it needs to put on life support in intensive care. Unfortunately for calypso though, and for all of us, those in charge of the intensive care couldn’t care less. They have all but closed the door shutting out this traditional art form, this music genre that has been and still is a critical part of our culture.
Calypso is satire, but it’s more than caricature and humour. It inspires, it teaches, it influences and creates a whole world of thought. In this sense, calypso is perhaps seen as a danger by those who shy away from change.
Calypso over the years has basically remained true to its origin. It tells stories of the lives of people and their surroundings, their happiness and pain, tranquillity and worries and it does this in a melody of words and music. Calypso’s message, though often delivered in innuendo has always been blunt. It speaks frankly about corruption, lies and cheaters and the message always booms clear to those who would take the time to stop and listen.
This is why calypso should not be allowed to peter out. It is needed in this society where the masses still yearn for their voices to be heard on so many issues.
Last year’s censorship of the genre on national airwaves really hurt me because I had spent the month working with calypso artists and other Mashramani enthusiasts, only to watch their hurt as the rug was ripped from beneath their feet so to speak. As we all know, this is stifling local music. This is an industry where there is a huge divide between the haves and the have-nots.
The haves will spend millions to sponsor Jamaican artistes singing crap about “foot pun shoulder”. The have-nots are the calypsonians.
There is raging talent in the school and junior calypso competitions, but once our youth graduate from that stage they drop calypso like a ton of bricks. Why? Ask the likes of Ernesta Nelson, Tennicia DeFreitas, Diana Chapman and others. There is nothing in it for them. No real recognition, no money and not even the fleeting pleasure of hearing themselves on the radio during the month of February. How many calypsos have you heard? The soca songs are blasting on the airwaves and calypso, which once held pride of place, has become the unwanted stepchild.
Is it any wonder that one of our best calypsonians retired from competing? Yes, the Mighty Rebel fought long and hard for calypso in this land, but he threw in the towel eventually.
There is a Calypso Writers and Singers Association now chaired by Aaron ‘De Liberator’ Blackman. It’s not a new intervention; it has been around for decades. It has not made much of a difference because while calypso needs that kind of activism, what it needs most of all is money. It will take cash to run the programmes and workshops that will give calypso new blood. No one, not the government and not the private sector has come forward to make that kind of commitment to revitalising calypso.
Me, personally, I will do what I can. I will talk about it. I will write about it. I will make a nuisance of myself, if necessary. I refuse to watch calypso go down without a fight. Who’s with me? (Jairo Rodrigues)
