The man behind the Shadow

Music fills the world

with happiness

plenty sweetness and

togetherness

Music have no friends

or enemies

Everybody

could dingolay…

Winston Bailey, The Mighty Shadow

AS A CHILD, our dance competitions were predictable. Once the music playing was by Shadow, it was expected that I would win. Well to clarify, it was expected by me that I would win. I remember explaining to you once before that I was never quite sure that he had a face. Even after I met him, I watched him talk and laugh convinced that he was playing a mind game on me.

Memories of us children dancing to his music swirled and eventually the tears came. I wondered, why do I feel such loss? Is it because I am selfish? Or because it was difficult to find a station playing his music on the day of his passing? Or were my tears for the many Carnival practitioners who languish in near-poverty? Or the fact that in 2018, the calypso fraternity is still asking for calypso to be included as an integral aspect of the curriculum?

Perhaps the tears were also because the story of his life was filled with so many disappointments and struggles. He was different and ahead of his time, and in this society, these are qualities that do not necessarily guarantee success. He wanted to challenge Sparrow and Kitchener, but although his music was good, was rejected many times, until the 1970s allowed him to be heard.

He was called a philosopher, but I believe he would laugh at that. His music was powerful, because he was rooted in Belmont, Les Coteaux, Laventille and bush.

David Rudder described Shadow as “the most African of calypsonians...People still wait on Shadow before they pass a judgment on Carnival. There will always be people who can’t go through Shadow’s door because of his weird, off-key sense of humour and unique way of visualising his world.” It struck me – this man dresses like a Midnight Robber.

I realised that up until then, I had always seen Shadow through the eyes of a child. Suddenly, the hat, cape, his version of the Masai leaping dance – all made complete sense. You see, the Midnight Robber contrary to what we have been told, is not from the American cowboy tradition. Of course, there were influences, but no cowboy ever wore a hat like that, or a cape, or used eloquent words to slay their rivals.

Through closer analysis, it is possible to identify strong links between this character and the Eyo festival of Nigeria, traditionally held as “the final burial rites for a highly regarded chief.” Further, the Midnight Robber’s magnificent stories of battle and conquest are no doubt related to the style and substance of the West African Griot.

A Griot is defined as a storyteller, however in ancient times he was regarded as a valuable and powerful member of his community because of his skill with words. Significantly, it was believed that the Griot possessed the ability to communicate between realms, to convey messages from the ancestors.

Could this be the reason for Shadow’s other-worldly talent and the fact that he was not understood by mere mortals (or judges)? That he was really a spirit from another realm who connected at a mystical level with Socouyant, La Diablesse and obeah? Shadow drew inspiration from the bush and life experiences. But he also sang from an understanding of what affected people, what mattered – poverty, tension, old age.

In describing how he felt about music, he told one interviewer “this thing like a magic.” Almost certainly, Bassman was about Shadow’s own obsession with music, playing anything he could find, even an upturned plastic bucket. “One night I said to the bassman/Give me your identification/He said "Is me, Farell/Your bassman from Hell/You tell me you singing calypso/So I come up to pull some notes for you..."

The little girl spinning in the living room never gave thought to any of this. She never thought about Midnight Robbers, Griots or ancestral realms. She did not think of Shadow’s pain or of the peculiar nature of T&T that produces so many creative people, but does not truly create a space for them. As the tears flowed, the grown up did not think about these things either. Still, in between the grief, a knowing smile – heaven will never be the same now that the Bassman has made his entrance. Walk good Griot. Dingolay.

Dara E. Healy is a performance artist, communications specialist and founder of the NGO, the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN.