By Zandolee
Well they bring a racehorse from England, Mooma, last February
So I send in my application as a professional jockey
But the stable master Ignatius Galt, watch me and finding fault
He say, “Son, I betting you ten to one, you too light to make this horse run.”
I say, “I light but I strong, Mister don't judge me wrong,
Don't bet me at all, I playing jockey from since I small
Because I used to ride goat, [goat] dog, [dog] mule, [mule] hog, dem fat police horse
And with the length and size of mih whip, you lost."
He say the length of the whip is not all Son, you must ride the horse and doh fall
You whip could be fat like a macajuel and you can’t use it well, you in hell
But anyway if you want this ---------- gimme a demonstration
So he bring a Ginny donkey for me and he tell me to work it out, let he see
But I tell him, “Look here Ignatius, you too blasted advantageous
Them animal I call, I didn’t mention donkey at all.
What I tell you was goat, [goat] dog, [dog] mule, [mule], hog
Don't do me that, no, boss. Lord, if I tackle donkey I lost!"
He say, “Look how you back out from donkey and Iron Man is your name?
You call yourself a jockey but you make everybody shame.”
So then I unpile the whip from ’round mih waist and I shake it in front he face
He fell in love with it then and there, so he kiss the whip and declare
Then he say, “Listen Zandolee, demonstrate on me
I am the boss and if you satisfy me I give you the horse.”
So I mount up mih saddle like if I evil
If you see people how they assemble
All round the track to see me climb on Ignatius back.
Now me and Ignatius was on the track and mih whip ‘noint with Chinee oil
Instead he run forward, he backing back when he see mih long whip uncoil
So I drive the first lash underneath the tail
He started groaning with pain
He tried to get away but he jam the rail
So I whet him with the whip again
And then he started to beg me, “Have mercy! Mister Zandolee, you go kill me.”
I say, “Shut yuh mouth, is you whey beg me to work you out.
Because I used to ride goat, [goat] dog, [dog] mule, [mule] hog, anything you call
And whey I vex now, I tackling donkey and all.”
Well me and Ignatius was on the track and mih whip ‘noint with Chinee oil
Instead he run forward, he backing back when he see mih long whip uncoil
I drive the first lash underneath the tail,
He started groaning with pain
He tried to get away but he jam the rail
So I whet him with the whip again
And then he started to beg me, “Have mercy! Mister Zandolee, you go kill me.”
I say, “Shut yuh mouth! Is you whey beg me to work you out.
Because I used to ride goat, [goat] dog, [dog] mule, [mule] hog, anything you call
And whey I vex now, I even tackling Gypsy and all.”
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance! .............................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
What strikes me while listening to this song is the innocence of it. My choice of the word "innocence" might raise some eyebrows because according to your point of view you might have come to the conclusion that the "undertone" is a bit much for the delicate or tightly wound moral palate.
Well, thankfully, the scandalized can rest easy. This song was not intended for you, nor does it include you or even dare to assume that you could relate to it. This song is for hearts that are open:
to surprise, to tall tales told brilliantly, to songs crafted and sung expertly,
to the devilry of a wicked analogy or double entendre,
to delighting in the teller's daring,
to the luxury of enjoying a communal joke with your own community,
to allowing our insecurities about having less to be wiped away by impossible fantasies of ridiculous excess,
to releasing ourselves in a safe zone, with the permission of the singer, and if only for the length of the performance, from the weight of societal taboos,
to laughing till we cry over ourselves, over the performer's devilish je ne sais quois, over the fact that we are blessed to be in an environment where we are totally free to laugh till we cry.
I say that this is all innocent in the sense of it being a sort of absolution. Although some of its tickle effect depends to a great extent on the existing social mores and their contravention, for me the song functions as a broom that sweeps the internal overseer unto the sidelines where it stays until we have been allowed to celebrate ourselves without self-reproach.
In the biography supplied by John Bush at All Music, he states that "the Mighty Zandolie, born Sylvester Anthony, was one of the dominant "rude bwoys" of calypso during the 1960s and '70s, and the prime innovator of what were later called "smuts," the sly double entendre songs which crop up in early American blues as well. Zandolie recorded many classic songs, including "Man Family" and "Stickman," and spent much time in the States as well. Though Trinidad's calypso market had in large part moved on by the late '90s, Rounder released a live album featuring Mighty Zandolie plus two old partners in crime, Lord Blakie and Black Prince."
"Smuts" may well be a convenient categorization but as with everything else that we categorise, there is so much more to an entity that upon closer examination betrays the shallowness of the label. I really love Zandolie's work and I wish that I could shake his hand and thank him over and over again for the sheer brilliance of his wickedness. Ironman, stay strong!
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
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