IN THE SHADOW OF GREAT MUSIC

THE BASSMAN

 

Trinidad Guardian

January 1, 2000

Page 10

 

The Lord must have been his shepherd; for though he does not have what he deserves, he does not want.  Winston Bailey, The Shadow, lives simply in Mount Hope; watching, absorbing and creating music from the vibrations that shimmer in the air around him.

 

As an artist, he is sensitive to the treatment of his work.  As an artist he absorbs the blows and fashions them into instruments of creativity.

 

The Lord must have been his shepherd, because He maketh him to lie in green pastures in Tobago when he was a child.  And in them, he found the music to save his soul.

 

Winston Bailey grew up with his grandparents in Les Coteaux.  He was an exceptionally bright youngster and his teachers assured his grandparents he could be anything he wanted.  He chose to walk away from school because he couldn't bear to impose any more hardship on his struggling grandparents.  By the time he was an adolescent, he felt they had sacrificed enough for him.  The music that vibrated from every rock, every tree, and every living creature was calling him to venture out into the world.  The bassman was already in his head; he had to leave.

 

The Lord must have been his shepherd, because He leadeth him beside the still waters of Les Coteaux, Bloody Bay, L'Anse Fourmi, on a long walk to Charlotteville in search of his life.  He ate wind and fruit along the way, doing whatever he could to keep his body going; his soul was sustained by the music.

 

He made friends, borrowing their guitars and learning how to pluck out the melodies, which always accompanied him.  At first, he found the six chords too many for him, and he cut off three.  Then a man named Joseph taught him some chords, and he began to practise in earnest.

 

One day, he came upon Tantie Belle sitting on a saltfish box washing her clothes.  "I tell her that box have real music in it," he said.  Her unquestioning faith in his musical genius believed him, and she handed it over.  He made a guitar from the box - a square one - and that was the first of guitars, which would become like a natural extension of his body.

 

Still a teenager, he left behind the still waters of Tobago and came to Trinidad, going to live in Laventille while he wrote songs and auditioned for calypso tents.  He had little success himself; though as a test he would often write songs for others only to see them being embraced by tent managers.  He could not understand why they were reluctant to take him on.  But he continued his writing, sure that one day he would break through.

 

He eyed Sparrow and Kitchener hungrily; they were the leaders of the band, he thought, and one day he would be up there with them.  He found a niche singing back-up for Sparrow with a group called the Firesticks.

 

He cannot perform from written words, it is too distracting; but he had an amazing facility for language, and an astonishing recall of lyrics and melodies.

 

He says he cannot recall exactly how old he was when he left home, or when he first started singing calypso.  He just knows the energy was always there.

 

Few musicians can strip their music down to its core to reveal more complex layers.  Marley did.  Shadow can.

 

Although he has had a long string of hits, he has won no major titles.  Although he has produced several recordings, he has come out on the raw end of deals with producers.

 

He is stoic about his losses, even as he admits that he has to place his affairs in the hands of a good manager.  "I just want to make my music," he says.  He has spent his life walking on the periphery of a society that loves him.

 

Through it all, the Lord must be his shepherd, because even as he walks through the valley of the shadow of death, he fears no evil, believing as he does that the right spirits are with him, and the rod and the staff, they comfort him.

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