Thanks to Shorty

Express - July 16, 2000
By Raffique Shah

In the wake of the death of yet another calypso icon, Ras Shorty I, Prime Minister Basdeo Panday, in paying tribute to him, suggested that his hit song “Watch Out My Children” be placed on the “curriculum of every school in the country”.

I think what the Prime Minister meant was that the song should be sung by primary and secondary school children as often as is necessary, at their weekly assemblies for example, which is quite different to placing it on the syllabus or curriculum. That I agree with.

“Watch Out My Children” and Ajala’s “When You Ride A White Horse” (the latter also comes in the form of a superb video) are two of the most powerful songs I’ve heard that directly attack cocaine abuse.

I concur with Dennis “Sprangalang” Hall, though, that calypso as an art form, and not just a few selected songs, should find a place on the syllabi of the nation’s schools, even if it’s made part of their extra-curricula activities. Take Sparrow’s “Education” as an example. No finer song has been sung that exhorts children to pursue academic work as a means of lifting themselves out of the cycle of poverty.

But calypso’s place in the education system has infinitely more uses.

The most important developments in the history of the 20th century have been cast in wax by our bards, much the way many internationally-renowned persons have been cast in another kind of wax at Madame Tussaud’s gallery in London. And while I agree that some of the more risqué calypsoes should be excluded from schools, there is much that our students could benefit from the art form in general.

But back to the man whose passing we mourn, and whose life we celebrate, Ras Shorty I. When he burst onto the national calypso stage in the mid-1960s, having beaten rising stars like Black Stalin and the Mighty Composer for the South Calypso King title, Shorty was what I would term a compelling calypsonian and an iconoclast, much the way the Mighty Sparrow was a decade before him.

For those of us who were fortunate to have seen and heard him in that period, there was no doubt in our minds that here was a bard who was about to stamp his image on the art form.

To complement his “Love Man” image, he chose to be trendy rather than conservative in dress, showing off his well-sculpted body, and he matched a superb voice with showmanship that was reminiscent of Sparrow. Bear in mind that the more reticent Maestro, with whom Shorty had collaborated from early in his career, also entered the calypso circle around the same time.

And between them both they pioneered the transition of the art form from “pure” calypso to soca, and added to the revolutionary brew the “Indian” touch that would later evolve into “chutney soca”.

In Shorty’s first incarnation, the “Love Man” showed his versatility by writing and singing songs as varied as “The Art Of Making Love”, “Money Is No Problem”, “Endless Vibrations”, “Indrani” and “Om Shanti”.

For me, “Endless Vibrations” was his most musical song. But it was “Om Shanti”, which met with open resistance from the Maha Sabha, that went on to become a monster hit here and in India, where Kishore Kumar did what they today refer to as a “cover version” of it. Whatever the term, it was naked piracy, since Shorty told me he never received one rupee in royalties from the lucrative Indian market.

By then, older masters of the art form like Kitchener, who had been critical of soca in its original form, had joined in and soon soca all but swamped calypso. Shorty’s revolution was complete. Or so we thought.

Without a single national title under his belt, Lord Shorty suddenly transformed himself into Ras Shorty I. The true story of that transformation was a very personal one that he mentioned only in passing, and that to a few people in whom he had some measure of confidence. Suffice it to say when he packed up bag, baggage and family and moved into the forests of Piparo, most of his fans were disappointed.

I recall the first occasion after that transformation when he came to see me: he was draped in what later became his trademark dress—metres of cotton covering his body, cotton bag strung across his shoulder, staff in hand, and feet bare. I must confess that I was among his fans who had felt deprived when he made that drastic change in his life, which, in retrospect, was really a selfishness on our part. We wanted more music, sweet music.

The feeling was that Shorty had denied us his multiple talents and that it was unfair that he subject his many children to the rigours of life in the “wilds”. In the years following his shift to serving Jah, as he would say, he was subjected to much ridicule and condemnation, even from his fellow calypsonians.

But in short time he would prove us all wrong. For not only did he proceed to turn poverty into an asset, but he brought up a tight-knit, well-informed and multi-talented family that proceeded to perform miracles in the world of music.

It was not only Abbi and OC and Sheldon who stunned us with their hereditary talents, but we saw the emergence of “jamoo”, much maligned when it was first aired, but flooring everyone when he got around to singing “Watch Out My Children”.

By the time his new persona became acceptable to those who had deemed him “mad”, Shorty had created the “Family Circle”, a band made up of all members of his family. He had proved that one did not need the so-called niceties of “normal” society to bring up a “normal” family. He had also proved that education did not necessarily come from classrooms. In Shorty, we saw not just a musical genius, but even better, a man who stood by his beliefs and who was prepared to die for them. While few expected this giant of a man to expire before age 60, we must all be thankful that he has left us richer for the music he gave us, and stronger for the determination he displayed in pursuing a lifestyle of his choice, a calling from above, as he used to say.

At a personal level, I say thanks my brother for the music, and for the strength of character that few of us will attain even if we live to be 100 years.

Previous Page

---

Copyright © Raffique Shah