Hooper and Chanderpaul

“What’s your favourite

Tradewinds song, and which one you feel has had the strongest reaction?”

I’ve been asked that several times. On the first question, it depends on when you ask me; some days it’s Is We

Own; some days it’s Angel

Wings; some days it’s

Copycats. On the second question, I suspect Not A Blade O’ Grass would be the answer.

It’s interesting though that only one interviewer – a very astute Guyanese lady – has ever asked me the parallel question: “Which song do you feel had the weakest response?” The answer to that one, hands down, is Hooper and Chanderpaul, and therewith, as they say, hangs a tale.

It was around the time of ethnic street clashes here, and a concerned Guyanese government official called me where I was living, in Grand Cayman, out of the blue. “Guyanese pay attention to your music, man, so a song on this subject might help to calm things down,” was the way he put it. My response was that my serious songs did not tackle subjects head on – Blade o’ Grass, for instance, did not mention Venezuela or border clash directly – and that I didn’t think the notion would work. But in the week or so afterwards, troubled myself by the violence, I came up with the idea of addressing the subject through an imaginary cricket match which Guyana could win only by using both Hooper and Chanderpaul – symbols of our two major ethnic groups.

I still see it as one of the most subtle double entendre calypsos I have written – a disc jockey in Antigua dubbed it “the best calypso of the decade” – and, with the song launched, Tradewinds came to Guyana for one of our frequent Pegasus poolside fetes.

The fellow in Antigua may have loved it, but Hooper and Chanderpaul landed like a ripe breadfruit in Mahaica; it hit the ground and didn’t even bounce. I was stunned. I had been so sure of this song, and this was Pegasus poolside .... I couldn’t believe I was so wrong.

There are two aspects to this. The first is that it is proof of what I wrote in a column here recently which is that song-writers rarely mould popular opinion – we simply delve into it. Blade O’ Grass was a good song but it became a hit because it expressed the national sentiment. Conversely, Hooper and Chanderpaul, also a good song, crashed and burned because the people were not of that mind. Tellingly, you can still hear the Venezuela song on radio, and everywhere I perform, I have to play it. On the other hand, the cricket song is dead, and audiences don’t ask for it. That’s the first aspect.

The second one, the one that distresses me the most and is my main point here today, is that the incident reflects the depth of this rift that pervades our culture, holding us in a state of two major divided camps, hampering and frustrating us as a nation. Furthermore, the division remains. The attitudes behind the dismissal of the suggestion in my song, so many years ago, continue. And before someone raises it, please spare me the “politicians-created-the-division” nonsense. Certainly it was exploited by politicians, but they didn’t invent it; it was already there. No, it hadn’t reached the cussing and beating up stage, but it was there, and many decades later it is there to some degree. In recent times, in a trenchant column in this publication, Alan Fenty related an incident with a taxi driver reflecting the divide in stark simple terms...still frustrating us.

I vividly remember leaving Guyana on that tour a chastened man. The experience with Hooper and Chanderpaul had shown me the depth of the division between our two major groups. Truly, it jolted me. What I said in the final line, “this place ain’t you and me, this place is all o’ we”, was wrong; Guyana is more a case of “this place is you and me.” A sad conclusion; a bitter reality. It’s likely you don’t remember the song that virtually died at birth; here are the lyrics:

Hooper and Chanderpaul

Ramotar and Joseph Henry, drinking two rum in Unity planning a cricket game next day, Ramotar turn to Joe and say

We can win it in Guyana, pick Chanderpaul and pick Hooper.

The first time that the West Indies win, it wasn’t just Sonny Ramadhin when we give England licks that time, it was Ramadhin and Valentine and now in this time in this country, we have to use the same strategy

We must play Carl and Shiv that’s how we have to live for us to win this game, banna

Guyana must combine Hooper and Shivnarine this match is make or break, banna

Curry team up with metagee, Hooper and Chanderpaul Yellow plantain and dholl pouri, Hooper and Chanderpaul Roast cassava and fry channa, Hooper and Chanderpaul Evening gown and shalwar, Hooper and Chanderpaul

Joe say boy I agree with you, we have to play Shiv and Hooper too Jacket and tie alone can’t win, you have to get dhoti to join in and in the pavilion the menu must feature roti and dumpling too

It must be Carl and Shiv, that’s how we have to live from Waini to Canje, banna

This place ain’t you and me, this place is all o’ we from Kaieteur to the sea, banna

Curry team up with metagee, Hooper and Chanderpaul

Cook up rice and dholl pouri, Hooper and Chanderpaul Paratha roti and black pudding, Hooper and Chanderpaul Pumpkin curry and green plantain, Hooper and Chanderpaul Cumfa and Diwali, Hooper and Chanderpaul

A-line dress and white sari, Hooper and Chanderpaul

From Rosignol to Wakenaam, Hooper and Chanderpaul Leguan to New Amsterdam, Hooper and Chanderpaul

From Aishalton to Bartica , Hooper and Chanderpaul Golden Grove to Parika, Hooper and Chanderpaul

This place aint you and me, Hooper and Chanderpaul

This place is all o’ we, Hooper and Chanderpaul