Lady Aisha has a belly full of laughs in store for you. She returns with a playful, story‑driven calypso titled Wrong Order, a cheeky take on mix‑ups, expectations, and surprises in the world of modern dating. The song follows her humorous tale of requesting an “ageable man” to ease her loneliness—only to receive a much younger match instead. Clearly, she puts in an order for an “ageable man”… The dating agency mixed up her order and she got more than she could handle... Licks and steamy endings!

 

What follows is a hilarious tale of getting more than you ordered: wink, wink! She was disappointed at the start, but that disappointment quickly turned into a twist she didn’t expect, delivered with Lady Aisha’s trademark boldness and theatrical flair. It’s a straightforward double‑entendre piece, lighthearted and built for audience reaction rather than subtlety.

 

Early listeners commenting on the YouTube post are already embracing the fun of it, and many are excited to hear how it lands in the calypso tent. As always, calypso finds a way to spark conversation, laughter, and surprise—and Wrong Order is shaping up to do just that.

 

Don’t you know that Trinis love their callaloo & calypso? Oh yes, they do! This presentation by DJ Aaron 868 serves up a rich, flavorful blend of classic and contemporary Calypso from one of WACK Radio’s most beloved selectors. We’re confident you’ll have these selections presented here on the Dial for your listening pleasure.

 

DJ Aaron 868 has a gift for stitching songs together with smooth transitions and deep cultural intuition, and the YouTube comments already show how much listeners appreciate this well‑curated Calypso mix. While everyone is out searching for Soca mixtapes, we believe Calypso mixtapes are long overdue. Many DJs don’t realize what they’re missing, but Aaron is tapped directly into the heartbeat of the culture—and we are the beneficiaries of this excellent musical selection.

 

This is the kind of set that reminds the diaspora why Calypso remains the heartbeat of the people—storytelling, rhythm, and heritage simmering in one pot. We love it, and we’re pleased to bring it to you today to spark that Calypso fire in your soul. So dial into the music, enjoy, and let your friends know you found it here at the Dial—your Calypso dial!

 

In her newly released calypso, Ah Nation on Medication, Shirlanee Hendrickson offers a deceptively simple yet piercing reflection on Trinidadian life.  The song's message is basic: she states that every nation has its problems, but in Trinidad, we meet ours with a peculiar mix of complaint, humor, and resignation. The production by Jr. Soy Production Studios is lively and foot-tapping, making this one a song that will eventually 'creep up on you!'

 

She explains that this is a Trini thing and  that “we like it so.” It’s a well-known Trini phrase about how we complain about just everything on a daily basis—griping about issues yet accepting them as part of the rhythm of daily life. Rather than dramatize or despair, the singer frames the nation’s response as one of quiet endurance, likening it to taking a Tylenol or Panadol.  As simple as the message is, the idea is clear: medication dulls the pain but doesn’t cure the cause, and in the same way, society finds ways to cope without demanding any major attitude change. 

 

This calypso is not about grand solutions or fiery protest. Instead, it mirrors the everyday attitude of “such is life.” It’s a commentary on resilience, but also on complacency—how a people can normalize dysfunction while still finding joy in the music, the humor, and the shared experience of survival. C'est la vie!

 

Shirlanee’s delivery is light; the video makes everything look humorous with contorted facial expressions, making the message resonate beyond politics or policy. A simple song? Listening to her rendition, one may think so, but listen carefully and you will understand that it is a  reminder that calypso thrives not only on sharp satire but also on capturing the subtle ironies of Caribbean living.

 

Ah Nation on Medication is a mirror held up to Trinidadian society: witty, understated, and deeply familiar. It asks us to reflect on whether our coping mechanisms are a strength or a weakness—and whether “liking it so” is a cultural badge of resilience or a symptom of deeper malaise.