Podcasts · Episode
Calypso: Race, Land, and Politics through Journalistic Music
Program: Power Play
Aired: Tuesday, June 9, 2020
Hosted by Karbo · Ross Hickman
In this episode, Karbo and Ross examine the political messages of Calypso music from Trinidad & Tobago. The popular genre has perhaps the most vivid and explicitly political words of the series. Calypsonians engage in history and identity with compelling frankness, fusing music, and journalism to speak truth to power.
Transcript
Karbo: Hello, and welcome to Power Play: a podcast where we explore the relationship between music and power.
Ross: Throughout this season we’ll bring you stories about the power of music, the music of the powerful, music as a means to power, and what happens when music and power go head to head.
Karbo: I’m Karbo.
Ross: And I’m Ross.
Karbo: Let’s get started.
[Rum and Coca Cola, as performed by the Andrews sisters, plays]
Karbo: If you’re familiar with Calypso music you’ve probably heard the song we just played: Rum and Coca Cola became a number 1 hit nationally for the Andrews Sisters in 1945.
Ross: Calypso music originates from the Caribbean, and in the U.S. it’s largely known for its often upbeat and bright sound. Calypso is, however, much less light-hearted than its popular reputation might have you believe.
Karbo: The recording of Rum and Coca Cola which became popular in the U.S., for example, is a cover of the Trinidad original by Lord invader.
[Rum and Coca Cola, as performed by Lord Invader, plays]
Karbo: Notice that the brightness in tone is still there but the lyrics are a bit different.
Ross: Yeah, not to dance around the issue, this is a song that was originally about U.S. soldiers stationed in Trinidad during World War 2 and local women turning to prostitution. They “saw that the Yankees treat them nice/ and they give them a better price”. The tone was emulated by the Andrews Sisters but the original meaning is lost.
Karbo: While this may seem perhaps a little edgy for a song from the 40’s, Rum and Coca Cola is actually fairly typical for the genre of Calypso.
Ross: Let’s hear a bit from Lord Cristo’s “Mock Democracy.”
[Mock Democracy, performed by Lord Cristo, plays]
Karbo: Not only is the subject matter striking, but the songs are so direct. In general, songs are often analyzed for their broader meaning, categorized as a call to action, or prescribed a larger moral significance. But, Calypso is usually more forthright.
Ross: That’s not to say that there aren’t subtleties and double meanings, but often a Calypso will just come out and say what it wants to in clear – and rhyming – terms.
Karbo: Calypso was described by Harry Bellafonte as a “living newspaper” and that’s certainly true; performers were known to sing songs composed to reflect events taking place hours earlier, like the results of an important cricket match for example.
Ross: But, like a modern newspaper, Calypso is about more than simply presenting news about recent events. Calypsos could take on the role of editorials, addresses to prominent officials, political endorsements, or financial advice.
Karbo: I’m sorry – financial advice?
Ross: Yeah! During the building of a U.S. naval base in Trinidad money was flooding into the economy because locals were paid wages by the U.S. Navy. Calypso singer, the Tiger, warned that “with the circulation of money at the advent of the Yankee/ Take this advice from me / Because I’m sure after the war / Things are not going to be as they were before / There is a lot of money circulating in the island / We must make preparation for the rising generation / In 1932 you can remember the great depression the world was in confusion there was great starvation / So save your money or you may be on the streets begging for charity.”
Karbo: Well that is certainly direct, and good financial advice as well.
Ross: Always good to save.
Karbo: [Chuckles] Oh, it certainly is. So far we’ve been talking about how intertwined Calypso is with politics, power, and really the everyday life of Trinidad, but let’s take a step back and look a bit more at where Calypso came from and how it became what it is.
Ross: Ok, so here’s the short version – and honestly Calypso is a very rich genre, so a lot of what we’re talking about here is the short version. Slaves from Africa were brought over to Trinidad when it was a Spanish colony. The Calypso singer Atilla the Hun, in his memoir “Kaiso” asserts that “Calypso began with Spanish and French slaves singing at the end of the day about their work” as a kind of community gathering and celebration.
Karbo: Calypso was a form of oral history to commemorate important events, but also about the everyday lives of those singing. Songs ranged in topic from pretty women of different races, to recent massacres, to England’s invasion and subsequent annexation of Trinidad.
Ross: And it wasn’t just the topics which were shaped by the occupation of Trinidad. The language was first French and Spanish in the 18th century, then English after the colony was taken over. The instrumentation originally involved more percussion instruments, but then was adapted to steel pan music after percussion instruments were banned in the late 19th century.
Karbo: At this time Calypso music was performed in bamboo tents constructed specially for the occasion, but commercialization began to change the genre. Originally, the tents were constructed by the community, and singers and bands would come together to exchange songs and play together. Visitors were welcome, as spectators and often wealthy members of the upper-class would come to watch as well. Slaves were, however, banned from the events.
Ross: After emancipation in 1881, former slaves could not be kept from these gathers so the former-slave owning upper-class largely withdrew and stigmatized calypso. Carnival days were reduced, and for a few decades the events grew in popularity with the newly freed population who could attend them – while remaining largely out of mainstream attention.
Karbo: These events did, however, become so popular that organizers began offering prizes to the top Calypsos performed at a gathering, and began to charge small admission fees to audiences to help finance the prizes. Over years, tension grew between the event organizers, musicians, and the singers over the money coming in from Calypso’s increasing popularity.
Ross: This struggle resulted with the singers – perhaps inevitably – taking center stage. Singers began to recruit musicians to play with them, signed recording contracts, began hosting their own gatherings, and ultimately reserved the title of “calypsonian” for themselves, the singers only.
Karbo: These singers continued to report, commemorate, and inform through their lyrics. But, with their rise in status, singers were able to take on a more active role at providing nuanced criticism of government officials and policies. For example, Attila the Hun’s song Commission’s Report was written explicitly to rebut a 1937 report written by the Forster Commission on Riots taking place in Trinidad.
[Commission’s Report, performed by Attila the Hun, plays]
Ross: And the songs weren’t limited to commentary either. In some cases, singers would make their own policy suggestions through Calypso. Calypso singer, Mighty Prowler, wrote the song “Build More Trade schools” and another, Mighty Leveller, wrote “How to Stop Delinquency” which recommends the government increase spending to create more jobs.
Karbo: Not all of the songs were what could be termed “constructive”, however. Many were about specific politicians and it likely won’t surprise you that some of the more negative ones began to get people’s attention. This content, as well as the money changing hands, served to bring Calypso back to the attention of those in power.
Ross: After the emancipation, Calypso and Carnivals were seen as subversive and so were regulated by the police with curfews of 10pm. Other than this rule, there was little regulation of Calypso up until 1933. But then, the singer King Radio began advertising a song about a new scandal. Songs like this – with *hot gossip* – always drew large crowds, and this one in particular because rumors had been circulating that high-ranking police officials were involved. The night of the performance numerous policemen showed up to watch, and one brought a message to the stage that the song advertised could not be performed.
Karbo: As Atilla the Hun recalls, a prominent political figure also present that night – Captain A.A. Cipriani, a member of both the legislative and executive council – addressed the gathering, saying “put a chair for me on stage and sing your song. Let the police do their damndest. I am by your side.” And so the song began
[Country Club Scandal, performed by King Radio, plays]
Ross: And, everything seemed to be alright. The crowd dispersed and no one was arrested. But a few months later, in 1934, the Theater and Dance Halls Ordinance was passed by the government. This act gave those same police soul authority over the performance of Calypso and release of Calypso records.
Karbo: Calypso performers had to obtain permits for each performance they did – which often meant getting permits daily. They could also have their permits withheld if they performed songs disagreeable to the police, and the tent managers – who were often now Calypso singers themselves – could be charged with violations if songs deemed inappropriate were sung in their tents.
Ross: And this was enforced. Atilla the Hun was brought before the court for letting the song “Go Daniel”, which was critical of the Director of Education, be performed in his tent. Several of his songs were also banned. Commission’s report which we played earlier? Banned for being too critical. “Rats in Town” and “Sally Water”? Another two of his banned for alleged obscenity. In 1938 Atilla wrote the song “The Banning of Records” which laments that the work Calypsonians put toward Trinidad is kept out of Trinidad itself.
[The Banning of Records, performed by Atilla the Hun, plays]
Ross: This was, of course, banned.
Karbo: [Chuckles] Of course it was. But actually, I feel like this singer keeps coming up – Atilla the Hun, you said?
Ross: Yeah, it’s spelled differently from the other Attila – two L’s instead of two T’s – but that’s right. And he does keep coming up! He is one of the Calypso singers who lived through many of the substantial changes to Calypso and, as you have heard, he was quite political in his songs and experienced censorship by the government firsthand. He didn’t stop there, though. Atilla, or as he was known outside of Calypso, Raymond Quevedo, decided that singing about political issues was not enough. He ran for, and was elected to, the Legislative Council of Trinidad and Tobago in 1950.
Karbo: I imagine he had a few things he’d want to change.
Ross: That’s for sure, and in 1951 he got his chance. A new bill was introduced to adjust how Calypsos were censored – moving authority from police officers to magistrates – remember that it wasn’t until 1958 that the island was allowed to become self-governing, so these were British magistrates. Quevedo had a few things to say on the subject. He gave a speech on the history of Calypso and their censorship, telling the story of the Country Club Scandal and Captain A. A. Cipriani. He discussed how Calypso was seen on the island as low-class and vulgar because it offended those in power by pointing out their shortcomings. He ultimately argued that Calypso is an art form necessary to express the concerns of the everyday people, to each other and to those in power. He said “this interference is a calculated move to stultify the creative genius of the people here, and to put a stranglehold on the singer thus preventing him from expressing his true feelings. This is a pernicious, dictatorial, and satanic piece of legislation. Some of us only associate with the common man at election time, but I associate with him all the time, and so I can be brutally frank.”
Karbo: Well that certainly is frank – yikes, satanic? What happened with the ‘satanic’ bill then?
Ross: [Chuckles] The main bill, meant to put magistrates in charge of censorship, passed, which was a relief on the pressure of calypsonians. But, unfortunately, amendments to the bill, which were meant to fully free Calypso from censorship, did not pass. Moving forward, though, Calypso was able to proceed relatively unfettered.
Karbo: And Calypso became intertwined with one of the major political parties – People’s National Movement or PNM. The PNM was founded in 1955 and it’s leader, Eric Williams, won the general election in 1956 and held power for the next 25 years until his death. Calypso and the PNM were both tied to the descendants of the slaves who were brought to the island from Africa, and there was racial tension with those whose families had been native to the island before its occupation. Especially after Trinidad became its own nation, these tensions began to form into political battles. After a close election in 1961, Nap Hepburn sang about the victory of Eric Williams’s PNM (calling him by his nickname, the Doctor) and the race war she viewed as nearly incited by his fiery opponent in the Democratic Labor Party – known by the PNM as the “Mad Scientist” [chuckles]. The song reads: “yes, from Trinidad and Tobago, the Doctor had the go / Only in the rural districts support the mad scientist / The election was at hot pace / Some deceitful people vote race / But all who vote race, I have one thing to say / The Doctor come here to stay. / He didn’t say to arm yourself with your weapon in Savannah / He didn’t say to burn up your ID cards down at Couva / He didn’t say to break up the voting machine / That was brought by my Government /It’s the mad scientist as usual preaching violence.”
Ross: Yeah, as usual, Calypsonians were direct, even when speaking about what must have been a truly frightening time in the history of the island. In 1962 Lord Cristo sang in “Election Violence”: “That was real suspense / And plenty violence / Electrifying suspense / And a lot of ignorance / Because I can remember / On the fourth of December / Trinidadians stand by / For results to know if to do or die . . . Whip dem, PNP, whip dem . . . Now we faring better / Since we got the Premier / We living in contentment / So who we want: PNM government.”
Karbo: And, Calypso continued to evolve with the political consciousness of the nation. In 1962, when Calypso was declared the national music of the island by the PNM at the Calypso King competition for the newly freed Trinidad, the runner up preached racial harmony. Here’s Mighty Sparrow’s “Our Model Nation.”
[Our Model Nation, performed by the Mighty Sparrows, plays]
Ross: Yeah, he didn’t win though. The Calypso King that year, while also espousing the ideas of a unified and independent Trinidad, offered a more practical solution to racial issues.
[Independence song, performed by Lord Brynner, plays]
Ross: Did you catch that? In among the ‘this land is your land this land is my land’ message, Lord Brynner says “Forget all this lousy rumor ‘bout racial equality / If you are an East Indian / And you want to be an African / Just Shave your head clean like me / And then no one can tell your nationality.”
Karbo: The issues of race and politics would continue to dominate Calypso in the following decades. We heard at the beginning of the episode how Calypsonians dealt with racism in the United States in the 60’s ,but it was then, as ever, also a rich space for reflection on Trinidad’s own government. In the 1970’s anti-PNM demonstrations led to what is now called the Black Power Uprising. And, Calypsonians were divided.
Ross: Some remained firmly with the PNM, as in Lord Fluke’s “Black Power”: “The policy on duty / Move with humanity / They spray a lil’ gas / And keep watchin fas’ / But when a fellow get the wrong idea / Is then the police get vex / And make his arrest.”
Karbo: But, other Calypso singers were more of an active part of the revolution itself. Bro Valentino sings that there was “no revolution” in a direct address to Eric Williams A.K.A “The Doctor.”
[No Revolution, performed by Bro Valentino, plays]
Ross: The singer Mighty Chalkdust also chimed in, both praising Williams and demanding specific policy changes. In his “Answer to Black Power” he sings “Doctor, the answer to solve Black Power / Is to tax the rich some more / And build houses for the blind, the lame, the poor / Houses for everyone we must ensure / Vital areas like sugar and oil / Must be run by our sons of soil / Why must a small white minority / Control us economically.”
Karbo: Man, you know the thing I love most about Calypso is that when you read it out loud it really sounds both like poetry and also a letter you’d write to your senator.
Ross: [Chuckles] It really does: tax the rich, make sugar and oil in control of natives, don’t let the white minority control the island. Calypso is a beautiful art form and contains so much of the history of Trinidad and Tobago.
Karbo: And, to be clear here, this is pretty much true of all music – that it’s intertwined with current events and the history of where it is from. What’s distinctive about Calypso though, is how clearly it speaks for itself. You don’t need to take a history class to understand the context for what is being said. And, honestly though, there is a lot of history we’re not getting into here. If you’d like a more complete picture, and especially one with some of the other impressive singers from the genre we didn’t have time to mention, I’d recommend Raymond Quevedo’s “Kaiso” which gives a picture of Calypso leading up to the late 50’s. Louis Regis’ The Political Calypso’ also discusses much of Calypso’s modern era: from Eric William’s election in 1956, until the PNM’s decline in the late 80’s.
Ross: There’s a lot of interesting history there, and you can find a Calypso about pretty much anything. Some of the most famous Calypsos are those focused outward like Rum and Coca Cola, or FDR visits Trinidad. But, while Calypso may have originated as a means to talk about those in power, it became a means to talk to those in power, and a way for those traditionally without a voice to be heard.
Karbo: Hello, this is Karbo – creator, and editor of PowerPlay. Ross Hickman is my illustrious co-host. This episode was researched by myself, and produced by Tamberly Ferguson. Thanks to Josh Sacco for audio engineering and indispensability. Additional thanks to you, for listening. The music you heard today was Rum and Coca Cola by the Andrew Sisters, Rum and Coca Cola by Lord Invader, Mock Democracy by Lord Cristo, Commissions Report by Atilla the Hun, Country Club Scandal by King Radio, The Banning of Records by Atilla the Hun, Our Model Nation by The Mighty Sparrows, Independence Calypso by Lord Brynner and No Revolution by Bro Valentino. Our Credit music today is Trinidad and Tibago courtesy of Purple Planet. Free music can be found at www.purple-planet.com. PowerPlay is presented by WDAV Classical Public Radio. If you like what you heard, you can find more information on this episode, and other great programming, at wdav.org/subscribe.
Playlist
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| Miles Hoffman · A Minute with Miles: Wind Instruments | |
| Gabriel Faure · Sicilienne, from Pelleas & Melisande, Op. 78 Seunghee Lee, clarinet; Evan Solomon, piano Summit Records 577 "Embrace" | |
| Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach · Flute Concerto in G, Wq. 169 The Feinstein Ensemble Martin Feinstein, flute Martin Feinstein Black Box 1019 "CPE Bach Flute Concertos" | |
| Sergei Rachmaninoff · Piano Concerto No. 2 in c, Op. 18 (finale) New York Philharmonic Gary Graffman, piano Leonard Bernstein Sony Classical 47630 "Tchaikovsky - Rachmanonoff: Piano Concertos" | |