On December 11, 1936, United States president Franklin Delano Roosevelt visited Trinidad and Tobago. All things considered, the visit didn’t result in a significant change in U.S. relations with the British colony. While Roosevelt returned to Trinidad once more in 1943, another U.S. president wouldn't return until Barack Obama's visit in 2009. The 1936 event also lives on in song. Musician Raymond Quevedo, under his alter ego Attila the Hun, recorded and performed a tune commemorating the occasion called “Roosevelt in Trinidad,” combining the Trinidadian style of calypso music with an interpolation of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” It became one of calypso’s first international breakout hits, gaining the attention of artists like Van Dyke Parks, who would cover the song on his 1972 album Discover America.
Calypso only started making its way out of the Caribbean in the ’30s and ’40s, but it’s part of a long tradition dating back to the early 19th century. French Creole Carnival and West African musical and storytelling traditions helped shape the form in colonial Trinidad. Its storytelling and satire drew on West African griot traditions, while the origins of the names “kaiso” and “calypso” remain debated. The culture endured through emancipation: apprenticeship began in 1834, and full freedom followed in 1838.
In a rendition of the classic calypso song “Rum & Coca-Cola,” the legendary singer Calypso Rose says it best: “Calypsonians are reporters. They might not report with a pen or paper, but they report it in the song.” The spirit of griot tradition endured in free society, with calypso musicians using music to take humorous swings at current events or start political debate. Caribbean Carnival, repurposed from the Roman Catholic festival brought to the Caribbean by French colonists, took on an identity of its own. It became a veneration of emancipation, combining inherited African heritage with the unique customs of the Creole diaspora. Calypso music would, of course, be the centerpiece.
Calypso became sport as well as entertainment, its popularity further spreading through competitions like Calypso Monarch, an annual contest awarding the prestigious title to the artist who best defined the year in a song. (It was formerly known as Calypso King until its first female winner, Calypso Rose, was crowned in 1978.) Extempo tournaments are held annually at Trinidad Carnival, too, which pit calypsonians against one another in an improvised setting not unlike a rap battle; panelists judge them on their sharpness and quick wit. When there was no longer a need to share information in secret and under fear of reprimand, calypso evolved into what it was always meant to be: a free and open observance of Trinidadian identity.
