Bury the jump and wave

January 28, 2004

I used to wish that some local millionaire philanthropist would, out of the goodness of his heart, build a huge "soca jail" so this society could be spared the agony of hearing, year after year, the boring mindlessness that emanates from our overnight so-called "stars" every Carnival.

The "jump and wave" syndrome began innocently enough when SuperBlue sought to creatively describe in song the phenomenon of people waving handkerchiefs and rags and flags in appreciation of a calypso performance.

The fact that SuperBlue's initial song "Jump and Wave" was an awesome Road March success opened the floodgates to a plethora of rather poorly constructed and silly calypsoes attempting to capitalise and piggy-back on Blue's initial work, moreso as the Road March had by then become the premier calypso of the Carnival season, and was being rewarded as such.

We entered a period of what many of us now refer to as the instructional or aerobic calypsoes: "move to the left, move to the right," "run to the front, run to the back," "dust them away," "take out yuh rag," "leh me see yuh flag," "wave to the left, wave to the right," "wave it, wave it," etc.

It seemed as if we were trapped in a never-changing, timeless zone, when no longer was there any purpose in honing the craft that is the poetry of calypso. The aim seemed solely to arouse people emotionally and expose basic instincts without any component of catharsis or cleansing as was the norm with the calypso art-form of yesteryear.

But just as T&T's Carnival artists seemed stuck in this mould as if by the doing of some wicked wizard, the bards from Barbados, Grenada and St Vincent began to take up the mantle of sensible soca, with attractive melodic lines and at a rhythmic pace that was destined not to tear one's heart out.

It was painful to us to be so pleased and enamoured of the work of the likes of Edwin Yearwood, Red Plastic Bag, Allison Hinds and Square One, and more recently Kevin Little, Rupee, Talpree and Militant, while Machel Montano, the most disappointing of all, continues to lead the charge of his cohorts of T&T at blinding, breakneck speed like a mad bull chasing after a red big truck.

One is, therefore, not surprised that the international label that signed Machel to do some original work has since seemed to have given up on his possibilities, while spotlight, in this regard, has now fallen on Rupee and Kevin Little.

I am quite certain that Mr Clarke, in particular, will not disappoint, largely because he seems too focused, humble and measured a person to mess up golden opportunities. His offering for 2004 about "giving thanks and praise while in the mas because we can never know if it shall be our last" is the kind of intelligent work we can expect year after year from this young Barbadian.

Ras Shorty I went to his grave pleading and begging and exhorting our young soca bards to get serious about their craft, to no avail.

Yet, there are signs of hope.

Shadow, with his creative "Stranger," put an end to the "jump and wave" genre just as he predicted when he intoned that he was reluctant to "get on the soca boat for fear of sinking it." After SuperBlue's original there will never be a more ingenious "jump and wave" than Shadow's "Stranger." Between those two giants, one senses that the fad has finally been brought to an end.

Super, in his offerings for 2004, has slowed his music down considerably and has reverted to his previous approach to composing.

Shadow, on the other hand, is pointing to the future with his ability to bridge the hip-hop/rap genre with authentic calypso and provide a product that is appealing to both the extremes of the music market. He continues to be the man of the moment in both philosophical content as well as rhythmic form.

If SuperBlue's turnaround is complete, then he may be the only challenge to Shadow's supremacy, particularly as the verbose Rudder has now sought "refuge" in Canada.

The major problem is that there is no longer an "apprenticeship" period, as informal as it was, for the young wannabes. The old practitioners of the art-form tell tales of their experience when they were taken "under wing," so to speak, by the more accomplished people and how they were, in this way, nurtured in the art-form.

That no longer happens. Like instant coffee, there is now instant calypso star. One effective way of dealing with the problem is to be more critical of who and of what we reward. If we reward the "mindless ditties," then that is what we will get.

We cannot allow the raucous, ridiculous, boring Soca Monarch competition to be the most valuable and the most prestigious of the Carnival shows — or, for that matter, to be the show that is broadcast live internationally. One is certain that no one in the US or Europe will watch that offering for more than two minutes.

If we reward only that which is proficiently done then the art-form will improve across the board. The issue is bigger than "sampling." In fact, nothing is wrong with cover-versions and sampling per se, as long as the original work is cited, all the legalities settled and it is done with taste.

What is more crucial is the question of overall lyrical content and structure; the use of symbolic imagery in the story-telling; and the power of social commentary.

If these are the crucial issues then these are the matters that must be rewarded. Only in this way will the young folk be forced to learn their craft and, as we used to say, "pay their dues."

The point however is that no one wishes to put themselves up as some form of a cultural inquisition commission. No one wishes to pigeon-hole the art in any predetermined classical parameters. People must be free to experiment and improvise and when they do or don't do so, then the right signals must be sent.