This playlist is our way of celebrating the rhythm of our people, the drama, the joy, and the madness of Carnival through the lens of Soca storytelling. We hope you enjoy the ride.

It started with "Dansa"—Klassic Frescobar had the party blazing, calling out the ladies to show how good they could move. Waistlines activated, vibes contagious. But then I spotted Patrice across the crowd. I tried a lil’ wine, a lil’ charm… and she hit me with some chosen words.

"Not Today," she snapped. Patrice wasn’t having it. “You smelling up the house—get that funk away from me!” She was done with the drama, done with her lover. Carnival or not, she had boundaries.

Then came "Ouu La La"—Trini Baby stepped in with smooth sensual vibes that drove me crazy. This surely took the sting from the chastising (bouff) Patrice dropped.  Trini Baby's vocals were poetry in motion. Her smile? Dangerous. I was hypnotized, and the feeling of despair was gone. 

How did I get to this place, this moment? It happened at the "Fiesta." Swappi had the riddim bouncing and the crowd chanting, “Boom, ka ka kai!” What a vibe. This music creates a heavenly vibe; I was in carnival fete heaven. The atmosphere was akin to pure Carnival magic.

The next moment, I found myself engrossed in a captivating story—"Same Time." Lyrikal’s riddim played, and I found myself dancing with two girls at once. I had no regrets, only a deep appreciation for the rhythm. Drunk or sober, mind your business, eh? One was talking about naming babies and the other was just niceness. 

But things got complicated. One of them scared me with her aggressive behavior and demanding ways. I said, “Take Me As I Am”—Trilla-G and V’ghn style. No yum, yum, yumm, damn, all she wanted to do was to 'try and fix me.' I just wanted her to take me as I am, just me. Real. Raw. Unfiltered.

She didn’t take it well. All of a sudden it was Patsy again. She looked me dead in the eye and said, "Rock So." Drooping head, tail between my legs… I walked off. Sigh.

Still, I saved myself from some serious drama and I am thankful to my girl, Lava.  "No Horn," she said, "just tassa vibes, OK!"  Dem Trini girls don't like horn... just chill and things will be fine.  Lady Lava warned and I listened. Yes, I dodged the bullet but plotted to deliver my next faithful blow. Carnival karma is real.

Shake that off and glide into some sweet weekend vibes, my brother. TGFW... But then came the "Weekend"—Mical Teja had the soundtrack to freedom, and

I was singing, "Thank God for the weekend." Work done, fetes are in full swing. It was time to play. Patsy could just chill out; I am going out for the weekend. 

And we did play. For some strange reason I felt like I was swaying back and forth. Life had become pleasant once more, and I was engaging in playful moments with my baby within that cherished love "Hammock."  A heavenly voice, Nadia Batson's sweet voice whispering in my ears.  A different kind of “rock so”—slow, sweet, and full of love. She wasn't asking me to leave the way Patsy did. This was the good life.

Even though Patsy once told me to “rock so,” I always knew how to reach her. I had the key to her "Sweet Spot." Patrice couldn’t resist. It never fails. She admitted that it was her 'favorite spot,' and I knew just how to jam it... niceness!

But love’s a race, and I had to move fast. The "Last Train" was leaving soon and I had to rush to the railway station at South Quay, Port of Spain. I had to get to San Fernando before she married the wrong person (yes, I am selfish like that, and it is my story) and left me standing on the side, watching and wishing it was  me—he is the man who got her to the altar, the lover on the side. Carnival season was turning upside down. This is unfinished business. I felt dizzy and confused and realized that I can't resolve the matter now; so many memories are flooding my brain. 

Ah, those sweet memories. I was so full of it and thought I had it made. I recalled the look in her eyes. She smiled and asked, boi, wheh yuh "Mudda Dey'?"—she wanted to thank my mother for bringing me into the world just for her.” Patrice was soft again. The stuff dreams are made of.

But dreams fade. Things soured. She told me I wasn’t her man. I found my spine and I said, Go ahead, "Do Yuh Ting.”  You made it clear that you don't belong to me, right! Take a man if you want, take a jam if you want, but stop keeping tabs on me. Leave me; let me live, freedom is mine. 

I crashed the wedding; all eyes were on me, and she just smirked. I wanted the first dance. The DJ dropped "The Greatest Bend Over (Take It Easy)." The crowd parted. Waistlines bent. She told me to relax—“I’ll give you the thing… just take it easy, boi.” I was excited. My body responded. Yes, the stuff dreams are made of... smile. 

Cutarse could make you sweat profusely, and maybe that was the case. But dancing and sweating drips of "Body Tea"—Adam O had me drenched with his vibe. I was drenched in sweat, powder, paint, and passion. Every drop told a story. Every scent was Carnival. Wedding... what wedding?

Someone touched me on my shoulder and when I turned around, that smile caught my attention. She wasn't the Bartender or in the Market; she was in front of me and she looked me in the eye and cautioned me. She wants to give me something but doesn't want me to bring it back in "Pieces." She  whispered, “I’m not Patsy—I’m Nadie. I won't be selfish; I will give you what you want, but please remember to take care of it. You will have it for one hour; can you manage it? Don’t return it in pieces.”

I jumped up, heart racing. It was Fantastic Friday. I was in my bed. Just dreaming. All this time.