Thrifty Tunes 11.15.08: Harry Belafonte

Posted by Paul Hollingsworth on 11.15.2008

Harry Belafonte brought calypso music to the masses in the early 60's. He also inspired Jimmy Buffett. I'll try real hard, Ringo, not to hold that against him in this week's installment of Thrifty Tunes.



If soul music barely registered on my musical radar before I found Wilson Pickett during a thrift store trip, then calypso music surely existed on a whole other planet. I picked up this album, for the princely sum of a quarter, because the vinyl and the record cover were in pristine shape. If I didn't like it, I thought, I could sell it for a small profit on eBay or maybe swap it for something more in line with my tastes. I've yet to part it with it, however, and my Belafonte collection has only expanded.


One of the best things about albums is cover art and design. As a graphic designer myself, I'm often amazed by the amount of artistry displayed on record covers. The majority of these records were made before computers were the tools of choice for designers, and the hard work put in by the artists really shine through. This cover is one of my favorites, right up there with Black Sabbath's self-titled debut and Alive from Kiss. The colors stand out. The layout is simple and direct. It all comes together in a very fortunate and eye-catching composition. Album art has all but disappeared in this age of mp3s, and I believe ultimately the music, and also the music listener, suffer greatly because of it. No matter how simple it is to purchase an album on iTunes, or steal them from file-sharing sites, the ability to lose yourself as you listen to the songs and search the album cover for clues to the meanings of the songs is lost, probably for good. Music has become a disposable commodity, and almost all intrinsic value is just as disposable.

The record opens with a familiar sounding tune called 'Sweetheart from Venezuela,' and it sounds like calypso should sound - even if you've only been exposed to it by caricature in cartoons or in movies. Belafonte's voice sounds charming and inviting, as though you have arrived just as a great party is about to kick into another gear. An un-credited female singer backs up Belafonte in the call and response chorus and the rhythms are catchy. You're left with the feeling that Belafonte is enjoying this song and he is doing his best to persuade you to join in on the fun.

The second song, 'Go Down Emanuel Road,' is more calypso but somehow sounds more authentic. It seems as though the first song was Americanized to break the listener in so that this second song doesn't jar as much. It's more foreign-sounding, much more like something you would hear in the Caribbean, sung by the locals after all the tourists have been safely sent to bed. The third song is a spiritual, 'The Baby Boy,' and sounds more of its time, 1961, than any other song on the album. It's not bad, but excluding the smoothness of Belafonte's voice, it sounds like a hundred other songs of the time.

On 'Land of the Sea and Sun,' Belafonte reaches what is one of the highpoints of the album. One listen and you'll feel like you are on an island somewhere, with a nice cool drink and not a care in the world. When music is able to transport you to another place, it has accomplished one of its most important goals. Within the song's simplistic arrangement and bittersweet lyrics, Belafonte stretches out and allows his voice to guide you toward an island oasis where you're always welcome.

Side two opens with one of Belafonte's most famous songs, 'Jump In Line.' Probably his most famous song, 'The Bannana Boat Song,' is still popular and used especially during sporting events. I've been to several Atlanta Braves games where the 'Hey O' is used to try to get the mostly apathetic crowd to their feet. If you've ever seen Beetlejuice, you've heard 'Jump In Line.' (And if you've never seen the movie, shame on you.) The use of songs in movies has such an impact on how a person hears the music after it becomes identified with a movie. As an example, consider 'Where Is My Mind' by the Pixies, which plays during the end of Fight Club. Can anyone listen to that song and not see the end of the movie? 'Jump In Line' will always remind me of the ending of Beetlejuice, for better or worse. I wonder what it would be like to not have seen the movie and hear this song without any preconceptions. Would it still work? Would it be silly? As it is, it makes me smile and remember my brief, but ultimately unsatisfactory, fascination with Geena Davis.

'Kingston Market' is another traditional ballad which Belafonte infuses with a sense of longing that the lyrics only hint toward. When a singer can create emotions which are not necessarily there in the music or the words of the song, it speaks to their gifts as musicians. For many years, I distrusted any singer who only seemed to thrive when singing other people's songs. While some of that prejudice still remains in my musical tastes, I readily admit when a singer nails a performance of someone else's work. Belafonte nails this song and makes it his own. Perhaps the only thing that could possibly make it better would be to have a few fruity drinks to savor while the song plays. I would love to hear other versions of it, if any exist, but it would be difficult to top Belafonte's take.

The album ends with 'Angelina,' a great song about lost love and lost time. Most pop music, in one way or the other, is about this subject. There are no songwriters credited on the album, so I have no idea who wrote the lyrics, but the thoughts are universal and simple, which often make for the best and most honest of songs.

Jump Up Calypso was released six years after Belafonte released his first calypso record. During the interim, he released other albums focusing on other types of world-folk music. He also wore the crown of King of Calypso somewhat uneasily, as he was most interested in exposing America to as many types of music as possible. Although his other work failed to gather the commercial success of his calypso recordings, it was a noble effort. If you ever are in the mood to try something different, Belafonte has much to offer.