AlLL AH WE is one the most popular party tunes in Crop Over history. Nation columnist Ezra Alleyne calls it “potent and persuasive social commentary”. An underlying message of the song can easily get lost in the midst of the mas.
A problem in the ghetto is a problem in the heights and vice versa. A problem among young people is related to problems among adults. The recent frequent flashes of gun violence have our eyes opened wide. Hopefully, now we see that all uh we in de bacchanal together fuh true.
Even easier to miss is the message of the man. The entire career of Peter Wiggins, better known as Peter Ram, is potent social commentary.
All uh we celebrated when Peter Ram was crowned Soca Monarch. It was enough to mek a big man cry. It did. Tears rolled down Ms Wiggins’ last boy’s cheek. Emotions overflowed. The steady rain of love and appreciation Ram received from the Barbadian public throughout the season, opened into a torrential downpour at Soca Royale that flooded into Kadooment Day.
This universal admiration didn’t come overnight. Many were surprised to realise that this was the first major title the veteran entertainer had ever won. His brilliance has not been always properly acknowledged.
In a class conscious society, broad social acceptance is hard won. The only other artist with a similar path, Lil Rick, gained his “Society” pass after competing in the Pic-O-De-Crop competition. It was like a validation of the intellect behind his artistry.
Winning the Party Monarch title is Ram’s transcendent moment. It is the point when Barbados said: “All ah we salute you”. If your vision was not clouded by the lingo, the gold, the street style, and the sometimes raunchy content, you would have
known from long time this artist was something special.
It is doubtful that another artist could have taken the song where he took it. We love it not only because it is well written, well produced and draws on our African heritage as Ezra Alleyne suggests, but because of Peter Ram’s delivery. We love the indigenous, Barbadian Ramness he brings. This is the biggest tune the lyrical master has brought to date. It is, ironically, one he did not write. But he is no less responsible for its success. It is brimming with his energy.
It is an energy this society has traditionally tried to stifle. It is the energy of the housing schemes and villages; what we call ghettos today. Young men of this background are often seen and portrayed as the villain or the problem. In order to shake that perception they have to talk, walk and dress differently. They have to change their energy. For long, the only representation they have had in the mainstream would have been Ram and Lil Rick.
The big win for Peter Ram is significant because more than any other, he is the ambassador of this energy. He is the elder statesman of ghetto youth, maybe even more than the Hypa Dog, who has smoothed somewhat over the years. Ram is as rough around the edges as ever. He has maintained this energy and the society that once would have rejected it, has embraced it.
The tide of this energy started rising here in the 80s. It rose through the influence of first, Jamaican dancehall music and then American rap music. This is the period when ghetto went mainstream. Along with it, gangsta. The subject of the film “Straight Outta Compton,” the rap group N.W.A. is from this period.
Those of us in our late 30s and early 40s remember the days of rampant hat snatching, chain popping and getting yuh shoes tek, when young men would wear two jeans pants to tuck the collins in between. We were listening to “Rude Boy Skank” and “Bad Boy Tune”. It is during this era that Peter Ram and other Bajan dub artists emerged.
Forward thinking persons at the N.C.F. sought to harness this youth energy and channel it into the Farley Hill Dub competition. Entrepreneur David Prophet started Revodubalution. Violent and slack lyrics were discouraged at these shows. A host of local chanters came to national consciousness. This era gave us some classics in Bajan music. But it died, stifled and suffocated by a lack of support.
We addressed its negative aspects by throwing out the baby with the bath water. For example, artists who made a living producing phenomenal art on ZR vans and minibuses were put out of work by a yellow wash and blue strip. We sought to whitewash the black energy of the housing schemes.
This potent energy is one that many in society fear. They wish it would just go away. It did not. It went into hibernation. Neglected and pushed underground, it nursed itself on music from the US and Jamaica. For many, it was out of sight, out of mind. The school teachers knew better, though. They could tell you that the tide was rising again.
Seeing the ordinarily macho and in-your-face Ram moved to tears and at a loss for words was impactful. The sight of Lil Rick’s elation and exuberance at his friend and longtime rival’s success was beautiful to behold. No one could appreciate how Ram must have felt more than Lil Rick. They both managed to survive and thrive despite efforts to purge the Barbadian mainstream of their brand of energy.
Through his very being, Peter Ram challenged a society that did not fully accept him. What if we had rallied around Peter Ram in his 20s? What if we had embraced this energy instead of trying to stifle it? How many equally talented young men and women from similar backgrounds have given up and found other outlets for their energy? How many gunmen would have been channelled down another path?
Energy cannot be created or destroyed. We either channel it or have it turn against us.
Adrian Green is de original front teet, brush teet and gargle Communications Specialist, heavily influenced by Peter Ram. Email [email protected]
