I’ll Always Come Back to You

KING OBSTINATE – I’LL ALWAYS COME BACK TO YOU!

And at an early age in the cane field I start to sing
I’m from a family of 13, and you know that’s a lot of mouths
So I decided to go away to help Papa out

But I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to nyam funghi, I’ll die
I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to be at Brother B, I’ll die

Antigua and Barbuda, you know we’ve had some trying times
So in order to survive I had to sing the Calypso rhyme
Europe, Canada and America are few of the places I have roamed
But regardless of where I have been, I always come back home

I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry for Labour Day, I’ll die
I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to hear what Papa say, I’ll die

Antigua and Barbuda, even though we were far apart
I spoke of you so many times, even though it broke my heart
I keep telling them about our beaches, the coral reefs and indented shores
Where you could play a game of warri, or a card game of All Fours

I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry for Sailing Week, I’ll die
I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to play withe dem Yankee chicks, I’ll die

Antigua and Barbuda, I stuck with you every step of the way
And I am still on the battlefield up to this very day
I’m your true ambassador, who has no office
And who gets no salary, but I owe my country this

I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to swim on my beach, I’ll die
I’ll always come back to you, I’ll always come back to you
And if I can’t come back I’ll cry to hear Brother Connie preach, I’ll die

I’ll always come back to you…

John Hughes, Betty’s Hope, Newfield, Green Bay, Jennings, Liberta, Blizzard, Parham, Willikies, Cobb’s Cross, Potters, Ovals, Cedar Grove, All Saints, Cashew Hill, Old Road, Bolans, Seaton, Falmouth, Five Islands, Buckleys, Green Castle…

Happy Independence Day, Antigua and Barbuda!

Today I’m Inspired by: King Short Shirt

McClean Emanuel was born on February 28, 1942 on the island of Antigua. The last of nine children, he is the son a fisherman, and grew up in the low-income urban district of Point. At the age of 20, he brought his awesome talent into the spotlight, when he entered his first calypso competition. He made it to the finals, but was eliminated in the first round.  By 1964, however, he walked away with the crown that would start his first three-year winning streak as King Short Shirt, Calypso Monarch of Antigua.

Short Shirt was confident and brash, calling himself the “Cassius Clay of Calypso”. He won the local crown again in 1969 and went on to win six more times between 1970 and 1979. In all, he had won 15 titles by the time he retired from competition in 1992. Known for the power and clarity of his singing voice and exceptional diction,  his legacy is one of scathing social commentary. His songs echo the rise of the Black Power movement in the late sixties, and the disillusionment in the islands of the early seventies. He sang against all forms of injustice, and was a fearless social advocate. He won the Antigua Road March title seven times, and had a total of seven regional wins, as well.  His 1976 hit “Tourist Leggo” is reputed to have created an immense stir at Trinidad’s Carnival, almost capturing the title and allegedly inspiring officials to start a ban on foreign entrants to the Road March competition.

One of the most loved Antiguan ‘Sons of the Soil’, Brother Emanuel, as he now prefers to be called, recently celebrated his 70th birthday, and the 50th anniversary of his performing career. He still writes and performs gospels songs, and appears to have no plans of slowing down.

King Short Shirt sang at my parents’ 1973 double wedding, and my favorite album of his – “Ghetto Vibes” – was released when I was just an infant. I have already posted about the song ‘Vivian Richards’ from this 1976 album. I now present ‘When’. While not as haunting as ‘Lamentation’, the lyrics remain as relevant as they were three and a half decades ago:

When? When will we learn to live together?
When? When will we learn to love each other?
When? When will we learn to trust our brother?
When? When will we live one for another?

Lord! I search and I search and I can’t find neither love, true happiness nor peace divine.
Sometimes I feel like I want to scream. And scream. And scream. And scream.
Sometimes, Lord I feel I could scream.

When? When will mankind turn from their evil?
When? When will the children rise and shine?
When? When will crime, violence and corruption?
When? When will they leave the hearts of mankind?

Lord! I search and I search but I can’t find either purity, grace or truth in mankind.
Sometimes I feel like I want to scream. And scream. And scream. And scream.
Sometimes, Lord I feel I could scream.

When? When will our dreams become Utopia?
When? When will our sorrows cease to be?
When? When will the poor no longer hunger?
When? When will mankind be truly free?

Lord! I search and I search but I can’t find the land of milk and honey and rivers full of wine.
Sometimes I feel like I want to scream. And scream. And scream. And scream.
Sometimes, Lord I feel I could scream.

Happy Birthday to the Master Blaster

Happy 60th birthday, Sir Viv! I remember the early-eighties glory days of the indomitable West Indies cricket team. I am proud of this handsome, charming, uber talented and passionate Antiguan “Son of the Soil”, Sir Isaac Vivian Alexander Richards.

In the words of King Short Shirt:

Vivi is the name, cricket is the game
Brother I don’t know how he could play cricket so
But his batting, bowling, fielding, catching is breathtaking
Sometimes I does wonder if he’s a next Sobers In the making
That man Richards Could really bat
Is something him on the attack
Plundering bowlers again and again
It’s remarkable how he does dictate the game

CHORUS
No bowler holds a terror for Vivian Richards
Not Thompson and Lillee, nor Bedi nor Chandrasakar
Perfect co-ordination of body and mind
That brother is really dynamite
Pace or spin, he don’t give a France what you bowling him
Fast or slowly, you going back to the boundary

England, here they come, this hunk of a man
This classical player and his fellow Antiguans
Andy Roberts, wreaking havoc once again in your country
Vivian Richards wrecking bowlers boundary after boundary
Watch the scoreboard ticking on
When Vivian batting, the machine must run
And people applauding for runs like bread
And another splendid Richards century again!