Wahjang Soca: Throw it away ≠ claim it later?
Music constantly evolves, blending across genres as local cultures influence rhythms and tones over time. This fusion is inevitable, as musical expression is culturally specific, shaped by interpretation, improvisation, and the prevailing influences of creative movements. As a result, new genres and subgenres emerge, drawing inspiration from established styles or borrowing elements to create something fresh.
We see this in Dancehall, which grew out of Reggae, and later Reggaeton, which borrowed from both influences. Dancehall itself continues to shift, infused with trap, rap, and other sounds, morphing into a new yet distinctly Jamaican style. Similarly, Afrobeat shares an unmistakable resemblance with Dancehall—some argue the influence goes both ways.
Cultural Fusion of Soca and the birth of new Subgenres
The same pattern holds for Soca, a vibrant fusion of calypso and chutney music, unmistakably Trinidadian in origin. From it emerged subgenres—or what I call twin-genres—such as Ragga Soca, which blended Soca with Reggae and pop influences in the 1990s. Vincentian artists like Becket, the late Winston Soso, Bomani and later Kevin Lyttle experimented with slower tempos, creating a new sound. With the musical influences of Frankie Macintosh, a distinct Vincentian subculture emerged that was both unique and captivating. Yet, despite their contributions, Ragga Soca is often claimed as Trinidadian, obscuring its Vincentian roots.
Across the Caribbean, other twin-genres have arisen: Jab Jab in Grenada, Bouyon in Dominica, Bashment Soca in Barbados and Dennery Segment in St. Lucia. Today, another musical shift is unfolding in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines—yet few are paying attention. This emerging subculture carries a distinct cadence, blending orchestral depth, electronic undertones, and a pulsating rhythm with a repetitive, hypnotic motif.
Wahjang: A New Vincentian Sound?
First coined by Dat-C DQ, this style—Wahjang—features rapid-fire chants, repetitive lyrics, and an infectious energy reminiscent of Dancehall or Rap, yet distinctly Soca in spirit and musical composition. In my recollection, early traces appeared in Ezron Spielberg’s Headways, a groundbreaking hit that hinted at this shift. Later, Dat-C DQ formalized it —naming it—and even created a dance to match the rhythm. The 2025 hit Eruption by Skinny Fabulous and Fireman Hooper further solidified this sound, showcasing unique drum patterns and cadences that set it apart from other Caribbean music.
The accompanying Wahjang dance is a full-body, high-energy, free-flowing movement, blending Breakdancing and Dancehall but with faster, more frenetically coordinated motions. The dance does not require the waistline as a prominent feature, typical of Soca music, and has more variations than just gyrating the hips. Already, it’s captivating Vincentian youth, spreading across social media as a cultural phenomenon.
Why We Must Act Now
If we fail to define, document, and claim this sound, we risk losing it, just as we did with Ragga Soca, which Trinidad now claims. We’ve seen this before—our Garifuna heritage eroded by colonization, stripping us of our language, our music, our dance. This cultural identity we are now desperately trying to reclaim. We cannot afford to let history repeat itself. The question isn’t whether we can afford to wait—it’s whether we can afford to lose another piece of ourselves and later reclaim it.
With the rise of AI-generated music, the risk is even greater—our sound could be appropriated, remixed, and stripped of its origins without recognition. We must:
- Name and codify this subgenre’s musical traits (BPM, drum patterns, instrumentation, vibe, groove).
- Document its evolution to establish intellectual property rights and/or formally recognize it as part of our cultural patrimony.
- Curate and celebrate the music and dance as authentically Vincentian before others claim it.
This is more than just music—it’s a cultural movement, a revolution in rhythm, and a testament to Vincentian creativity and ingenuity. Let’s not wait until it’s too late. Let’s claim Wahjang (or whatever we choose to name it)—and ensure Saint Vincent and the Grenadines’ voice is heard and represented internationally.
