Obeah bassman in heaven

As a tribute to the late Shadow, this special Carnival Sunday version of Trini to the Bone (as told to BC Pires) takes every word (apart from a handful of conjunctions or articles) in all the personal statements, not from in-depth conversation with the subject, but from the lyrics of Shadow’s own songs. This is, then, a very special ‘Bago to the Bone', as listened to by BC Pires.

My name is Winston Bailey, the Shadow and I belong to the House of Music.

I am the wizard who was born dread. Poverty dread. Misery dread. And I was born in them, so I must be dread.

In this world of confusion, I try to understand for so long what’s really right and what’s really wrong.

Somebody keeps fooling somebody.

I love my music. Instead of giving me love, give me music.

They say angels does come down and walk around. They say angels are everywhere. Maybe I’m an angel, maybe I’m not. If angels are loving and kind and righteous in thoughts and deeds, I’m an angel. But, if angels are creatures who are gentle and meek, and if a man slap an angel, he turn the other cheek, I’m no angel.

A calypsonian challenged my reputation: he said that he is the soca king, I can’t make with the soca thing. I called the mental hospital: come quick to avoid a funeral. I might pelt a big stone and mash up your jawbone. Boy, you better don’t touch me! He came in my house to fight me – but I belong to the House of Music. He is either crazy or real sick. I don’t want to sink that soca boat: if I tackle the soca, the boat will turn over! Leave me, let me do my thing.

Survival is a crucial business. The cat loves the rat. He loves the rat for his face. He loves the way rat face does taste. But the rat don’t need no love like that. The fox loves the ducks, oh what a love! But it’s a decent meal he’s thinking of! Survival is a brutal business.

The late Winston Bailey, the Shadow. PHOTO BY MARK LYNDERSAY

A young man asked for an opinion about a lady he want to marry. “You working?” No. “You stealing?” No. “You dealing?” No. “You looking for plenty horn, Boy.” Why you want to marry? You ain’t have no money. You think is joke? I wish you luck. Without money to buy honey, you heading for misery. She want money for hairdo and callaloo. And you ent have none? You better believe me, somebody will horn you.

Some bum-bum thin, some bum-bum fat. When bum-bum rolling, who care ‘bout what?

If you burst my face with a stone, police have a right to bring you to my home. Give me a stone, forget about case, I have a right to burst back your face! If a man burst a next man eye, putting him in jail is equal to “lie.” He only resting and getting fat – burst back his eye and finish with that!

Man could change my destination, give me suffocation, treat me very evil, get me into trouble. Man could take my wife, change my life, man could leave me in grief but no man could take my belief. For I believe in the stars in the dark night, I believe in the sun in the daylight, I believe in the little children, I believe in life and its problems. Rob me, beat me, cheat me. You could dig out my eye and cause me to cry, you could tell me I lie – but you can’t change me.

Love was meant to be the master key of a world of peacefulness, happiness and togetherness, equality throughout humanity.

Shadow. PHOTO BY GARY CARDINEZ

If a man is born in luxury, they prove to me through history, he is somebody. But if a man is born in poverty, starvation and misery, he is nobody. But everybody is somebody and nobody is nobody, whether poor or wealthy. Poverty is what it takes to make such dangerous mistakes about who is somebody. But when a woman raise her son or daughter from the time that child is born, he or she is somebody.

Tension in my body, tension in my soul. Tension in my belly, my blood running cold. The tension keep rising, reaching for my head, if it don’t stop rising, I will soon be dead.

The blind man said to the seer-man, “Put a penny in the blind man hand.” The seer-man said, “I’m working so hard, drawing my pay, but life so hard, I can’t see my way.” Then the blind man let go his bombshell: “I blind – but you seeing Hell!”

Life is a one-way street. And I don’t intend to waste it.

Everyone must choose the right side to use. To make yourself happy should be your priority.

If angels don’t jump up on Carnival day, when all them nice ladies come out to play, dressed up in they short pants with bum-bum galore, if angels don’t watch back, I’m very sure I’m no angel.

Read the full version on Wednesday at www.bcpires.com

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"Obeah bassman in heaven"

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