FOR a generation, Dave Martins portrayed Caribbean society like few others.
Martins was a regionalist, a storyteller, and a musical commentator on our heritage and identity.
With his salt-of-the-earth comedic manner, he manifested our manner of expression, our braggadocio, our quirks.
He appreciated and mirrored Caribbean life like Mighty Sparrow and a select few gifted practitioners in popular culture.
When Martins died last weekend at age 90, his life was best summed up, most appropriately, by Guyanese President Dr. Irfaan Ali.
Martins’ music was “the heartbeat of our region,” Dr. Ali said, and he “captured the essence of the Caribbean spirit and its identity, blending upbeat rhythms with biting satire that spoke to our hearts and minds.”
The Guyanese leader added that the artiste’s “music not only invited us to laugh at ourselves but also encouraged us to stand tall and be proud of our Guyanese and Caribbean heritage.”
It is fitting that Dr. Ali has a full grasp of and admiration for Martins’ skill and loyalty and not just because of his nationalistic and enduring “Not A Blade of Grass.”
While most deep-rooted Caribbean musical folklore is associated with Trinidad and Tobago’s calypso and Jamaica’s reggae, Martins emerged from rural Guyana with gentle native ballads of our customs and legends.
He regaled us with songs about Caribbean traditions and oddities, about the way we spoke, ate, played sports, bragged – and, yes, seduced our lovers, as in “Sweet Talk.”
For easy depiction, he was called a calypsonian, but Martins was a singular regional narrator and poet.
He poked fun at us becoming “overnight Yankees,” or returning home from abroad in “West Indian Suitcase,” or our native upbringing in “Boyhood Days,” or our indigenous elements in “Local Alphabet.”
His stand-up comic routine was an extension of his inimitable performance manner.
He found common ground with all Caribbean people.
He once said he felt compelled “to be true to myself and my roots, which are in Guyana.”
With his group Trade Winds, he entertained West Indian migrants in Canada, and then took his stirring act to various cities and his native Caribbean, winning acclaim everywhere.
“I could have lived a different life,” he said some time ago.
The Caribbean is richer for him staying in the arts and illustrating our way of life with his memorable rhythms and melodies.
While we regret Martins’ passing, his timeless music will keep exalting our Caribbean character.
