By Kenny Bailey
In the vein of Lester Bangs, the infamous rock critic known for his passionate, brutally honest, and often countercultural musings, I am setting forth my thoughts on a controversy that has shaken the music scene of St. Vincent and the Grenadines – the case of Zion-I and his recent disqualification from the Calypso Tent Contest.
Firstly, I’d like to invoke the essence of calypso music. Born from the crucible of Caribbean slave societies, this genre is rooted in a tradition of social and political commentary. Through its rhythmic melodies and biting lyrics, calypso has historically given a voice to the powerless, challenging authorities and the status quo. It has been a tool of the disenfranchised, a musical manifestation of a population’s joys, sorrows, and frustrations.
But with the recent disqualification of Zion-I, we are forced to question if calypso is losing its essence. Is the genre now just a palliative for the masses, expected to soothe without ruffling feathers? Should Calypso now tiptoe around the egos of politicians and powerful figures? I say, absolutely not.
Zion-I’s lyrics, though undoubtedly direct and provocative, fall within the realm of what Calypso has always been – a conduit for expressing dissatisfaction, anger, and frustration. They may be uncomfortable to some ears, and for some, they may have gone too far. However, the disqualification of the artist is not only an affront to his right to free expression but also a slap in the face to the long-standing tradition of calypso as a space for unfiltered social commentary.
Moreover, the fact that the disqualification stemmed from the artist’s decision to confront certain figures in government exacerbates the problem. The reality of power dynamics is such that those in authority will always have a louder voice. What happens, then, when those without that power are silenced? We lose a crucial counterbalance, a necessary challenge to the mainstream narrative.
We must ask ourselves, are we so afraid of the unspoken word that we resort to such drastic measures? Are we so intolerant of differing views that we refuse to listen to the voices of those we disagree with?
As we navigate this controversy, we need to remember the roots of Calypso and its role in our society. It is more than just catchy beats and pleasant harmonies; it is a social barometer, a reflection of our collective conscience, and an agent of change.
Let us not forget, Calypso has always been provocative. It has always poked, prodded, and stirred. It has always been the platform for those unafraid to voice what others dare not. If we muzzle it now, we stand to lose a piece of our identity, a piece of our history, and a vital check on the powers that be.
This isn’t just about Zion-I. It’s about preserving a space where we can critique, question, and challenge without fear or favour. Long live the spirit of Calypso, and long live the courage to speak the unspoken word.
So, where do we go from here?
With Zion-I’s expulsion, we must confront the very tangible threat to our cultural heritage and, more significantly, our freedom of speech. We cannot allow the whitewashing of a tradition that has been historically politically charged, rooted in rebellion, and instrumental in advocating change. This is not the time to retreat into silence; it is a moment to rally, to express solidarity with our artists who dare to speak truth to power.
Every individual, including Zion-I, has the right to articulate their frustration, even more so when it mirrors a broader public sentiment. The act of disqualifying him from the Calypso Tent Contest is not just a punitive action against a lone musician. It’s an indirect message to our society, suggesting that we must tread lightly around the powerful, a tacit warning to those who dare to voice their discontent.
Yes, we must respect the line between freedom of speech and defamation. However, we must also understand that this line is inherently blurry, open to interpretation, and often weaponized by those in power. In the case of Zion-I, it is not for a contest committee to adjudicate on matters of legal interpretation; that is the role of our courts of law.
The decision to disqualify Zion-I has wider implications. It threatens to dampen the spirit of other artists, instilling fear and limiting their creative expression. We risk cultivating a culture of self-censorship, where artists may think twice before penning lyrics that challenge authority or speak up on issues deemed controversial. This is a dangerous path, one that we must avoid at all costs.
It is time to reclaim our Calypso, to allow it to breathe, to challenge, to provoke, and most importantly, to reflect our society’s truths, however bitter they may be. It is time to ensure that the voices of our artists, like Zion-I, are not silenced by fear or intimidation.
As we venture forward, I urge the Calypso Tent Contest committee and, indeed, all of us, to remember the essence of Calypso. It is our collective cry, our shared voice, our vehicle for truth. Let us honor and protect this tradition, recognizing the invaluable role it plays in our society.
Today, the music may be about Zion-I. Tomorrow, it could be about you, me, or anyone else. If we don’t champion the right to speak freely today, we stand to lose the very essence of our democratic society tomorrow.
Long live Calypso, long live freedom of speech, and long live the courage to voice the unspoken word.
I THE VIEWS EXPRESSED ARE NOT THOSE OF ASBERTH NEWS NETWORK, ALL OPINION PIECES MUST BE SENT TO [email protected]
