Session Transcript:
Tony Allen
Red Bull Music Academy, Toronto 2007

The video stream for this lecture can be watched here.

Give the drummer some! Tony Allen is one drummer who just keeps giving back to the world of music. Only someone who has driven a band of musical and political potency, and sent crowds of frenzied dancers wild, could sit on the couch so peacefully and calmly. In his session, Tony Allen talks us through his childhood and first steps into drumming uncertainty, before his regular gigs, Downbeat magazine, and his first meeting with the legend that still is Fela Kuti.

RBMA: »Thank you (applause)! And I just press play and stop. I want to thank you all for coming through, and you actually made it right on time. Today is an extremely special day for a lot of people, and especially for me growing up in South Africa, and, well, the way apartheid was set up to not only keep us dispersed and conquered inside, but also from the rest of Africa. And so the music of this gentleman right here next to me spoke to us not only politically but fed our spirits as well. And so there's another dimension beyond just enjoying the music immensely. Ladies and gentleman, brothers and sisters, I would like to introduce to you none other than the drummer that I think Brian Eno once said is arguably the best drummer alive ever, Mr Tony Allen (massive applause).«

Tony Allen: »Thank you, thank you very much.«

RBMA: »The tricky thing about today is that what some of us might regard as a giant sitting next to me is such a humble human being. He's very concerned about being perceived or feeling that he's showing off and I'm just wanting to listen to music and absorb all the wisdom. So it's gonna be a little tricky in terms of finding that balance. But what I'd like to start off with is [how was life] as a kid growing up. I guess, we're talking post-1940s, around World War II-ish, and the kind of music that you grew up with and influenced you as a kid.«

Tony Allen: »Thank you very much, it's my pleasure to be here. At least to enlighten people to a few things that you wouldn't know unless I say it. So you wanted to know a few things about me. As a matter of fact, I was just one of them, too, just one of them kids growing up interested in certain things. My father had music as a hobby, after work when he came home. But there were different types of music in our country. I happened to be somebody who was always looking forward to things, and my father plays guitar, you know? So the first instrument I chose was guitar. I tried to play guitar and after a while I said: ”No, too many guitarists.“ So then I went for the saxophone but it wasn't working for me. In the first week I got blisters, so I said: ”No, it's not for me.“ There was one [instrument] I really wanted. It's easy for everyone to carry their instrument with them - a guitar you carry in the box, it's very easy. You take a saxophone in the case, it's very easy. But the drums, there's no way I can carry it all at once. I always watched the drummers when we invited them for school entertainment, live bands. I would always focus the drummer like he was a magician. Like: ”What's he doing? This guy is playing too many things at the same time." I said: ”I think I'm interested.“ We usually listened to a lot of music from the radio, and all the music of the world is passing by the radio. That's why, if you wanted to be a musician in my country at that time, you had to go through all this, you had to know all the copyrights by every musician. When you become a musician in the club, the audience are coming to ask you to play the records they have at home. So that's what the whole thing is about - everybody has to play what you hear on the air - or you have the records at home and you just had to repeat it. We all went through that, I went through that. After you come out as being a professional. Before that, I was still a student in the studio. ’Cause the guy who was supposed to show me how to play the drums, and I paid him, he put me on the drums and he showed me just two styles, which was highlife and rumba.He just showed me those two and he left. And when I found out that this guy wasn't coming back again, I got discouraged and thought, 'Bah, this was shit, it's a crazy world anyway'. So I went back to my job as radio technician. I said: ”Let me go back to my job so I can earn a decent living.“ But I decided to leave this job after two years and when I told my parents, my mother was completely against it. She said no way because in my country they have a name for musicians. The name they give to musicians in my country they say: "You want to become a beggar. If you want to play music that means you're a beggar." So she's like: ”You want to become a beggar?“ And I say: ”I just want to have my fathers consent,“ you know? And he said, well, for the first time he told me: ”Don't leave certainty for the uncertainty.“ That's what he used to say every tim: "Never leave certainty for the uncertainty." Now, I was going for the uncertainty, and for the first time he said: ”Leave him, let him go. If it's crazy for him out there, he will come back.“«

RBMA: »How old were you at this time?«

Tony Allen: »I was 20. And then I went for it. As a matter of fact, I was playing for 18 months in the band, going on tour and I came back after 18 months. And they had to sack the leader of the band for embezzling money or something like that. The decision was to disband the band. So I had to go back home, and what they're saying about certainty and uncertainty. I said: ”Look at me, I never caused no problem. I never embezzled any money, but I'm among the people who's not gonna have a job anymore.“ And I was paralyzed. And I thought, 'I'm through with it, I'm not gonna play music anymore’. I went back and said: "OK, what am I gonna do now?" So I said to my parents: ”OK, you take me again, I'm back!“ They said: "What do you want to do now?" I said: "OK, I just want to study." And get [rid of] my guilt. So I was doing that, studying correspondent courses. Then six months later somebody came to me and said: "Tony, there's a new club opening about 80 km away from Lagos. There's a new club opening and they're forming a new band." So I said: "Please, forget about me, I'm not part of that." "No," this guy says, "it's different." I said: "No, I'm not ready for this type of life. This life is not certain, it's a crazy world." So he tried to convince me and it took him one month, coming back to me everyday. Then, after two months, everyone had to be there ready, and so I said: "OK, maybe I should give it a try." And then I went for it and since then I never stopped. So I've passed through all the craziness and madness of this business and it's more madness than I can tell you. OK? I passed through all that, but I believe in one thing and now that I came back I said it's better to stay and prove something. Proving something meant I got to play like myself. After listening to and playing like all my idols, you know? That means I was playing like them.«

RBMA: »Who were your idols at that time?«

Tony Allen: »I heard Art Blakey, and Elvin Jones, and Max Roach and Joe Jones. Before then I was thinking about Gene Krupa. Gene Krupa was the first white drummer who was very incredible for me. Then I never listened to the Blue Note records before then. Then, when the Blue Note records started coming into the country, I started listening to Art Blakey and I was like: ”Wow! This one is different. It's not the same style like Gene Krupa. They were playing jazz, but it's not the same style. I prefer this one.“ I started to go towards this sound of Art Blakey, Joe Jones. Because Art Blakey doesn't sound like one drummer, it sounds like more than one. So on the record I was imagining, 'Is this one guy playing those drums?' I said: ”Maybe someone is playing the cymbals or the hi-hats for him? If he was able to do that, then that means I have to go for that.“ He was my idol but I didn't know how I was going to be myself. But one thing I was observing when I was playing was that most of the drummers right in front of me that were so-called good drummers, these drummers have at least four things there: you have two pedals, one for the hi-hat, one for the bass drum, and I watched these drummers and they never play the hi-hat. It's closed and they play on it on top of it. To me - I wasn't convinced. There must be a way of playing these fucking hi-hats, man. I was not convinced at all. I'm sure something is wrong here, it wasn't complete. And that was the hi-hats that weren't played. So I'm like: ”How am I gonna create with it?“ So one day, you know the Downbeat magazine? It's a monthly magazine, I used to buy it every month. I bought it this month and in the middle of the page I saw just two pages teaching hi-hats. Ah! I saw that that was it! And I saw that what this guy wrote here I hadn't seen anybody doing it. So I say: ”OK, that's the challenge for me now.“ So I went back to my drums everyday, every afternoon I'm trying to fuse the playing of this hi-hats into how I was playing before, which wasn't being done. So I have to fuse them together and that took some time. So when I discovered that and I was able to do that and say: ”Yes, I'm manoeuvring fine now, no disturbance.“ Then I became the drummer in the town where all the drummers came to watch me and they say: "Tony! What the fuck are you doing? What are you doing, man?" "I'm playing." "It's the same music that we were playing before." But all of a sudden they start to hear something that wasn't there before. And so they thought I was crazy. It's OK for me, I got it. Even before I met Fela.«

RBMA: »How did you meet Fela?«

Tony Allen: »Well, I met Fela when he came back from his studies, he was working as a broadcaster for the Nigerian Radio Corporation. And his program is to play old jazz records on Friday night, and being a musician he really wanted to play jazz when he arrived in the country. Instead of him presenting the records, he decided to form a band that would play the records, interpret the records and make it live.«

RBMA: »This was live on air? So instead of playing locally-recorded stuff, he would bring the musicians in and let them do their thing?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, and it's gonna be like pre-recorded for the quarter, so you've got like 13 programs in three days.«

RBMA: »So that's like 13 radio programs in two or three days? Whoa! And how long were the shows?«

Tony Allen: »Every program was 30 minutes. And so Fela came, and I was playing in a steady band, you know? Fela was trying to do his jazz thing and he tried three different drummers and the funny thing was he tried these guys in front of me. I chose them before and they were good drummers. And when Fela played with them he was like: "No, shit! There's no drummer in this country, man. You guys can't play drums." And he just condemned the three of them, saying: "Ah, there's no drummer in this country." So the bass player was like: "No no no. You haven't checked one person yet." And he said: "Who else? I've check all the so-called best ones." So this bass player said: "His name is Tony Allen, and we play together in the same band." And he checked me out. So he invited me and we went to his house and then we went to the radio station where the instruments were set. And he says: "Hey Tony, can you play 12-bar blues?" I say: "Yes, I can play 12-bar blues." He says: "Can you take solos? And share solos four four?" And I say: "Yes." So we arrive and it's OK all set up and him on the trumpet and me on the drums and he counted and we were away, 12-bar blues. So three cycles gone, after the third cycle he was like: "Stop, stop, stop!" So I stopped, maybe there's a problem. He said: "No." And then he looked at me and then looked at the guy in the control room and he said: "Hey! Are you listening to what I'm listening to?" So the guy says: "Yes, yes." So he said: "Did you observe the first cycle that this guy rolled in? And then the second cycle and roll in again, and then third cycle roll in again and he says have you ever seen that with the others?" And he says: "No." So: "Ahhh," says Fela, "OK, let's go," and he says: "We're gonna share solos now, and so he took his first four and I took my first four, and then he went for his second four, and I took my second four, and he said: "Stop! Where did you learn your drumming? Did you study in the States? Did you study in England?" And I said: "No, I did everything here." And he says: "It's incredible. The style you play one wouldn't even need a percussionist." So the first year like this I had my band playing steadily, and that's when I had my leave.«

RBMA: »And the music with the band was...?«

Tony Allen: »Highlife.«

RBMA: »And for Fela it was strictly jazz?«

Tony Allen: »Yes. So I was doing these two things at the same time, until one year later, he decided he wanted to join the cycle of the others too. Living on the local music, the highlife, they lived like kings. So instead of living like crawling...«

RBMA: »A beggar!«

Tony Allen: »So he says he wants to front the high life band, but not play it the same way. So I say: "Yes, it's possible you can do anything you want to do." I wasn't jobless, I was working, so one night they drove down to the club and came in with this manager assistant - they work together on the radio - and he says to me:
"Tony! Fela says you should resign from your job here." I said: "What?" "You should resign ’cause they are forming a new band." "Forming a new band? I don't even know where we are going yet?" So I'm going to leave my steady job...«

RBMA: »...to uncertainty...«

Tony Allen: »...to uncertainty again. But I was able to be convinced because I thought maybe I have to sacrifice something for something. That means that I might have to resign. So I said: ”Wait, just give me 'til the end of the month, end my salary here and I tender them my resignation.“ They thought I was joking, but I knew that with him was what I really wanted to achieve as a drummer. Be extraordinary which ever way. And I think it's only him that would let me reach that level. So I say I got to gamble. So I took my salary and resigned. The manager of that club begged me to stay: "Do you want more money? I'll give you more money." "No, not a question of money now, it's a question of future. I'm tired of the band already because it's stagnant. I don't see how I can improve in this band." So I told him: "I just want to be a musician." So I begged him, I said: "Please, sir, forgive me that I resigned." He said: "But you do know what you're doing?", and I say: "I know, but I just have to go and try it." And with Fela, I knew I was meeting a genius. Someone that I haven't seen anything like it before. So I bend my neck.«

RBMA: »So was this the beginning of Koola Lobitos?«

Tony Allen: »Exactly.«

RBMA: »The fusing of highlife with jazz. Let's go to a song. This is a track called Highlife Time. This is probably one of the earlier recordings.«

Tony Allen: »Yes, Highlife Time, this was just as we were about to go out of this style of highlife jazz.«

(music: Koola Lobitos - Highlife Time / applause)

RBMA: »That was released on a local label?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, local EMI. Two tracks, straight to tape. No mistake.«

RBMA: »Old school style! That was a particular style, which in some ways you revolutionized highlife and jazz as well. And then at some time you got to go to the States, based in L.A., I think?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, based in L.A. in the end, because we started on the East Coast and then to the Midwest, Chicago, and ended up in California.«

RBMA: »And that had a profound effect on the kind of sound that you would produce when you went back to Nigeria, right?«

Tony Allen: »We arrived in the States with Koola Lobitos and that was it. It was very busy music, and as a matter of fact, by the time we'd moved from the East Coast to the West Coast, we were able to get a place, a club that was given to us. Although we had a few problems with the union. They came one night and sat down to watch us. And then after we finished, they said to Fela and to me and the others: "Come." And they said: "We like your music, do you know who we are?" They said they're from the union for musicians and they were there purposefully to stop us playing and to seize our instruments. That's what they were there for. But they're not going to do that, and we said: "Why?" They said they sat down to listen to what we were playing and nothing resembled anything what they had heard before.«

RBMA: »So it’s not like you were taking music jobs away from other people.«

Tony Allen: »Exactly, we had our own thing going on. So they said: “OK, we’ll let you stay, but you’re not going to go and play Las Vegas. We won’t allow you to play Las Vegas. You can play anywhere, but not there. You can keep on playing here, no problem.” So then we managed to get another club like this, the Citadel Club owned by Bernie Hamilton, the famous actor.«

RBMA: »Of Starsky & Hutch.«

Tony Allen: »The police boss of the Starsky & Hutch show, he owns this club and he gave us a house to live in and contracted us to play six times a week. We were doing it – the music of Koola Lobitos then - every night with people coming to see us until one night when one of them called Fela over: “Fela, come, sit down. Fela, you wanna make money?” Fela says of course he wants to make money. “If you want to make money, you have to do something.” “What is it I have to do?” He said he listened to him every night and every song is like three tracks.«

RBMA: »In terms of the busy-ness and the arrangements?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, the busy-ness and in the way everything is so compacted. He said: “You have to go for k.i.s., man.” “What is k.i.s.?” “Keep it simple.” Alright, so he said if he wanted to make money he had to go for k.i.s..«

RBMA: »So what would’ve been one song is now essentially three songs because of keeping it simple.«

Tony Allen: »And we started making money. We had to go back and work on it. Fela doesn’t take advice from anybody, musically anyway. And so for the first time he had to work on that, try to simplify the next song we did, so for the first time it’s not so busy. We managed to record an album, done privately by us.«

RBMA: »Without a major label involved?«

Tony Allen: »Without a major, because we don’t have the right papers involved. It just allowed us to fend for ourselves. No major label would come to us.«

RBMA: »Let us go to one of the tracks recorded in those sessions, that is the ‘k.i.s.’ version of jazz/highlife.«

(music: Fela Kuti & Koola Lobitos – My Lady Frustration / applause)

RBMA: »That’s a track called My Lady Frustration. I think we can already hear the sound being formed in terms of the trumpet alone. It sounds like a rare example of someone from the music industry giving good advice in terms of doing something with the sound. You recorded this in the States, you went back and during this time you’d had civil war. What was the impact of the Biafran War on the music you made?«

Tony Allen: »The Biafran War made us leave the country because there was no more nightlife at all. The whole country was in darkness and if you went out at night, you were risking it because you’d have to face the army. So we had to get out of the place, this war was not our own war, not our business. It was just a problem of the politicians, as usual: every trouble in the world today is caused by the politicians and this was one of them and it affected everybody. The States gave us breathing space to be able to make our music and think about whatever, until 1970 when the war finished and we went back home. (cellphone rings) Shit. I'm sorry.«

RBMA: »Can somebody kill that?«

Tony Allen: »Nobody can kill that except me (laughter). It’s fucking crazy, even on my phone there is music. It stops me sometimes, you know, doesn’t let me sleep. Sometimes people don’t know I’m not in Paris. I'm sorry.«

RBMA: »So you came back, the war was over and you guys saw some signs of hope of returning and continuing the music there?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, the army was still there but life came back, nightlife started back again. The Fela who came back from the States wasn’t the same Fela who went there, it was a another Fela arriving back home, wanting to change things.«

RBMA: »So it wasn’t just musically that Fela and members of the group changed, but also politically as well.«

Tony Allen: »Politically, we became aware of things now because the Black Panther thing opened his mind to their goals and he started reading different books. So when we got back he wasn’t the same Fela anymore, he started to smoke. In the five years we’d played together he never smoked, now he’s smoking. He changed. He said he was for the people now and the people liked him for the message. Nobody had ever done that under military rule, that’s why the military couldn’t stand him, the message was too strong. The type of change he wanted in the country, it gave the politicians a problem. So we had two things now: militancy and music together.«

RBMA: »That’s powerful. What was the response of people back home when afrobeat was introduced because people were so familiar with highlife and maybe jazz?«

Tony Allen: »No, no, James Brown took over the country anyway. James Brown was the master of the country without even living there. Every band, the cool bands, the college bands, they wanted to play James Brown, and they played it properly. So we had to come and compete with that. It took time for afrobeat to be recognised in the country because it’s a revolutionary music to them, nobody was playing music like this before. “What is this?” But if you believe in what you’re doing, it takes time, but one day it will get through. So now afrobeat was recognised in the country and other bands wanted to play it.«

RBMA: »How do you define afrobeat and who named it? Was it something that came from Fela or the group?«

Tony Allen: »It used to be called highlife jazz, it wasn’t named afrobeat. But it was called that one day when this promoter, who always made us travel in Ghana, he went to Fela and said: “This highlife jazz business, it’s not strong enough to sell anything. Highlife jazz, well. Can’t you change it to something else?” Fela said: “What do you want to call it?” He said: “Well, there’s afrorock, afropop, afrofunk, afro-this, why can’t we call it afrobeat?” So Fela said: “Yes, that’s true.” So the music changed to afrobeat, no more highlife jazz. Afrobeat now is considered to have that influence coming from highlife jazz, but it’s a fusion. You hear jazz in it, you hear the local music in it, you hear funk in it, it’s a combination. But the most important part of it is the drumming, it’s the drumming that defines what’s behind it, and that’s where I really exercised my own department.«

RBMA: »That’s what I heard. When it came to the arrangements of the song Fela was almost like a dictator, but when he came to you, it was: “OK, what do you want?”«

Tony Allen: »No, even with Koola Lobitos he would always write notation for everybody. Sometimes he started writing for me and when he’d write I’d say: “No, I don’t want to look at it. You think I’m going to play like this? I'M not sure, I’m going to play the way I feel it.” ”OK, as long as it’s not going haywire.” Sometimes when he’d write it down, I’d listen to the bassline and he’d say: “What do you want to play this time?” “I’m gonna check it out, let me sit down on the drums first and listen, try a few things.” Then he’d say: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s good, keep that, keep that.” I always tried different things because that’s my department.«

RBMA: »We’re going to go to another song. This is one called, interestingly enough, Expensive Shit. Some of you guys are familiar.«

(music: Fela Kuti & Africa 70 – Expensive Shit / applause)

»I hate to do that, I hate to do that, but I’ve got to fade it. There’s something undeniably funky about that, you have to be absolutely deaf or dead not to move something. What did the recording sessions consist of, how did it come about?«

Tony Allen: »Fela doesn’t believe in all this modern technology. If you check the sound everything is clean. Clean, clean, clean.«

RBMA: »You mean nowadays?«

Tony Allen: »Now, it’s clean, no effects anywhere. Fela isn’t going to play the keyboard with the synthesizer, he just wants a clean sound, no reverb. If we have to deliver a record, he doesn’t believe in overdubbing. This overdubbing is again another show, he doesn’t believe in it. He said: “All of us have to be in the studio at the same time, one, two, three, four, poof. It’s done.”«

RBMA: »One take?«

Tony Allen: »One take. And then the next. That’s how we do it. We’d never work on one track for ten days.«

RBMA: »Even though the technology was available for overdubs?«

Tony Allen: »No, no, no, he doesn’t want it. We would record on multitrack but he’d refuse to take off any mistakes. He’d ban mistakes in the first place, you just have to do it right. And he just mixed, everything was done this way.«

RBMA: »We’re going to go to another song, Confusion.«

Tony Allen: »That’s my favourite.«

(music: Fela Kuti & Africa 70 – Confusion / applause)

RBMA: »Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me (applause). So that’s one of your favourite tracks?«

Tony Allen: »It’s a good one.«

RBMA: »No doubt (laughter). Why that one specifically?«

Tony Allen: »It’s one of those things. Ginger Baker was in town at that time and he was watching me playing this one. Ginger Baker is my friend, you know, he’s one of the rock drummers I’ve seen. He wanted to be an African, but I said it’s not possible (laughter). He did everything, too, on his drums. I really like this guy. He came to Africa and made sure he was moving with the indigenous drummers, going to villages to check them out and record them, get the feel of the vibes and the patterns. That’s why this one is in Lagos. Oh no, I tell you this one was recorded in his own studio, the studio he built in Lagos. He came to Lagos and built it himself, got the labourers, built the whole building and assembled the machines and everything. That’s why it’s a special one.«

RBMA: »Was he in the session at the time?«

Tony Allen: »No, just engineering.«

RBMA: »But he was present?«

Tony Allen: »Yes.«

RBMA: »In terms of Fela as bandleader, how was his relationship with the musicians?«

Tony Allen: »Fela is somebody who has his own way of life. If you want to work with him, it means you have to take it as he says it. He has everyone in a different department, ever since he created this Kalakuta Republic. When he created that he had offices for everybody, different people. The musicians were out of this, because they don’t live with him in the house in Kalakuta, everyone had their respective places. But he’s living with those girls and they are supposed to be the orchestra, the dancers. We went to the States with one dancer. At that time it was a nine-piece band with one dancer, but now that fame had come he decided to have a whole company of dancers. It’s no longer just the dancer, it’s dancers, singers and things like that. All were recruited in the Kalakuta. Those were the workers who became his wives; he took 27 wives, a combination of the workers. Those were the ones he had very direct authority over living on his domain, but the musicians, we just came to play.«

RBMA: »And I understand he declared the Kalakuta Republic independent from the rest of Nigeria, it had its own communal vibe.«

Tony Allen: »For sure, it happened like that. Kalakuta Republic was formed when his house was raided in 1974. It was raided because they said there were too many girls in the house, it was abduction, the girls that were coming to stay with him were abducted. After the marijuana he was smoking, they busted the place and came in. I submitted myself. I don’t live at this place, so I could tell them that and they let me go. If you don’t live there, they let you go. I submitted myself, and of course, they said they found five sticks of joint - and it was one joint for ten years in my country. If you don’t have any godfather there to get you out of it, you’re gone.«

RBMA: »That’s a high price to pay.«

Tony Allen: »Yeah, (laughs) for one joint. So imagine if they found five joints. So he said: “Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.” That made me say: “OK, I’m not going to leave you behind, I’m going to see what comes.” They took us; five police cells from the mainland to the island refused to put us in their cells. The first one said: “No, I don’t want to have a problem with Fela’s people.” The next one said: “Never, no, no, no, I don’t want.” They drove us to the third one, which was the main police station on the island, the same thing. Now they drove us to Awolowo Road, which is a bigger one. The inspector came and said: “Eh? Why did you take them if you don’t have a place for them? If you take them that means you have a place for them. I don’t have a place.” That was the last one. Now they put us back on the van and drove us down to the Interpol sector, which is for real hardened criminals. They took us there, that was it. I was released after three days, because they knew [I didn’t live there]. I just wanted to see what they were going to do to him. Then they put him in the cell and that cell was called Kalakuta and it was for embezzlers, people who embezzled money, so they had their president in there. When Fela arrived, it was: “Fela here?” All of them quickly changed seats. "The president there is no longer the president, the new president just arrived." Those guys put him there as the president of the Kalakuta cell. One week later he was released from court and this place became Kalakuta Republic, named after that cell. It played the role of another republic in the republic, I wish you were there to see it before it was taken out. They let it go for a while, but Fela was becoming too powerful for the army government, they had to do something. That was why they came and burned the place down, burned it with the movie we’d just finished. We’d just finished the movie and luckily the film itself was still with the movie people, but the sound for the whole movie was in his house. The day he was going to mix the sound to give to the film industry, that was the day they came and burned everything. The movie is still there, but no sound.«

RBMA: »Let’s go to some more music because the monkey business of the state cannot be tolerated. That’s my clever little segue into Monkey Business (laughs).«

(music: Fela Kuti & Africa 70 – Monkey Business)

»I’m going to play another one. Is that OK with you guys? I’m going to play Zombie.«

(music: Fela Kuti & Africa 70 – I.T.T. (International Thief Thief) / applause)

»That was actually International Thief Thief, I’ll probably play Zombie in a bit. The first one, Monkey Business, the bassline sounded almost dub-like. Were you listening to much reggae at the time?«

Tony Allen: »Music is universal, as I say, it’s one language. There is no other way about it. You get influences from everywhere as a matter of fact, of course, if you’re a good composer. If you ask me what I listen to, I don’t have any particular thing, I’ll listen to any music whether it’s my style or not. I will give praise to that guy there whether I know him or not because I know there’s something coming from the mind of this guy. It’s not from my mind, so I respect it. You don’t know, maybe the one you don’t know is the one that’s going to give you something you want, that inspires you: "Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to something and now I’ve got it." We always influence each other. I could write something just from listening to your music, just because it gave me inspiration somehow.«

RBMA: »That’s something that’s been almost a mantra of the second term [of the Red Bull Music Academy in Toronto], that every single music-maker, creative genius, label person, whatever, who sat on the couch said: "All these labels, genres, don’t really matter. There’s good music and bad music and that’s all that counts." Let’s get on to what might be a tricky subject and that’s the tensions in the band and the reason for you departing.«

Tony Allen: »There was no tension. I think I’d had enough in terms of organisation, it wasn’t what it used to be. OK, let’s forget about what went on in the past, the last straw that broke the camel’s back was the Berlin Jazz Festival. That was the one that made me say: “Enough, I’ll stop here.” Because if you count the number of the organisation, there were 28 people working for the organisation.«

RBMA: »Was that the size of the band?«

Tony Allen: »No, that’s the band, plus the management. Then we went on tour with 71 people, so that was it, that was enough for me.«

RBMA: »And the other people were Kalakuta Republic citizens (laughs)?«

Tony Allen: »I just walked away, it was enough. 28 people I can work for, but not this, these are nobodies, just hangers-on and they went on tour with us. Look at the flight, the hotels, the food, for one week. So the money… you organise for half-a-million, but when you check the expenses it’s not gonna be half-a-million anymore. Then you’re just left with chicken change: I’d had enough! I never had any rows with Fela when I left, but it was the organisation of the women. I can understand this one’s working, but what about this one that isn’t working? And they are on tour. I don’t want to start having hassle: “It’s crazy bringing all these people on tour." I didn’t want anything, I just told him I’d had enough and goodbye. I told him I was still at his service: if this music is going to bring us together in the studio, I would do that, but not in the live setting anymore. It never stopped my friendship, he was still my friend until his last day. The house where he was living, the house where he was buried in Lagos, not in the cemetery, this house, I sold him the land. That was my own property, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. So when I go to Lagos I have to go there. And when they were in Paris, I made these guys call me quick, tell 'Allenko' I’m here and he has to pass. If I see him in Paris, I’d go to his concert, go back to his hotel, until he goes back to Lagos. If I go to Lagos, I go to his house before I go to the shrine. I saw him until the last minute, so he was not my enemy.«

RBMA: »That’s very good to know because sometimes when you read media reports of the relationship in that period, you see all these fabricated stories about all these things that happened. And yet you were still friends. Earlier on you told me you were involved in the Roy Ayers / Fela collaboration and this was post-walking away.«

Tony Allen: »He invited me to follow him on that tour with Roy Ayers, a one-month tour of Nigeria. I said: “No, I told you before, I’m not playing behind you anymore.” He said: “No, no, no, it’s not that, I just want you to come by and be my sound engineer on that tour. Roy Ayers is coming with his own sound engineer.” And he needs me to be behind the board because I know his music. I did that for one month, and then just before the last three gigs with Roy Ayers and Fela, which were supposed to be in Lagos, Bernard Purdie decided to leave. We’d just arrived from the regions and he said: “Roy, my drums are here for you. I’m gone.”«

RBMA: »He leaves just like that?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, he books his flight with three gigs remaining, the three most important gigs. He doesn’t give a shit. He says: “(affects American accent) I’m gone.” His reason was…. No, it’s weird, it’s really weird, I don’t know if I should mention that here.«

RBMA: »No, you don’t have to.«

Tony Allen: »But it was weird and he left. So Roy has to play that night. One of them said: “Why don’t you check Tony?” “Which Tony?” “That Tony, he’s a sound engineer. The fellow you were talking to now, he’s your stand-in for Bernard Purdie.” So he came up to me and said: “You can play the drums?” (laughter) And I’ve watched his band for a month so I know his whole repertoire. So I took the first gig and for me it was nothing to worry about at all, I just finished it. OK, he’s happy. Next one, I took it. Third one. So now they have to end up recording in the studio, that was Africa Is The Centre Of The World, and in the studio Fela was writing this song instantly. It was not there before, he’s never played it before, but he was writing it instantly in the studio. He had these two drummers, two steady drummers with him.«

RBMA: »So you were replaced with two drummers?«

Tony Allen: »Well, one would play after the other, they each had stuff they could handle. So he said: “Allenko, I’m writing a new song, we’re going to record it, but those guys can’t do it, it isn’t for them. Do you want to do it for me?” I said: “I’ll do this, I’ll play with you in your room, but not in public. So yeah, OK.” It was done quickly, one take and that was my last one. After that I wasn’t with him anymore. And I did it free of charge.«

RBMA: »Damn. Africa Is The Centre Of The World, check it out.«

(music: Roy Ayers & Fela Kuti - Africa Is The Centre Of The World / applause)

»Africa Is The Centre Of The World. So you left and went to record on your own, although you released three albums under Tony Allen while still with Africa 70.«

Tony Allen: »Yes, that’s the way we did it. Fela produced my three solo albums.«

RBMA: »Did you feel nervous being on your own, having to compose and produce, basically do everything on your own after you left?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, but I wanted to what I wanted to do. Under his own production… I loved this guy so much, but it’s my music, I wrote it, and sometimes I found a fault in the recording. I’d say: “Oh, I want to change something there.” He’d say: “What do you want to change? Why do you want to change it?” I’d say: “Check that portion there, it’s not right.” He’d say: “Look at you. It’s just you and me who knows there’s something wrong there. Just leave it, man, leave it.”«

RBMA: »Just leave it in the song? And there's up-and-coming drummers trying to capture that moment, that’s so brilliant (laughs).«

Tony Allen: »I know. So I leave it, but when I left I could play the music the way I felt it, the way I wanted to hear it, which wasn’t possible under Fela. He’d say: “There’s no way the synthesizer will be played. There’s no way we’re putting that effect there.” He’s producing, so he could just say it shouldn’t be there. So when I left I was able to experiment the way I wanted.«

RBMA: »Let’s go to some of your post-Fela music.«

Tony Allen: »I have too many, I think I’ve done about ten albums after this. This (looks at CD) is the second-to-last one. This one is in between.«

RBMA: »We’re going to Tony Allen Live. Is there any particular song from here?«

Tony Allen: »I don’t know, it depends, they all have meanings. Don’t Take My Kindness for Weakness, don’t play that. Don’t Fight Your Wars, We Don’t Want To Fight Your Wars.«

RBMA: »That’s appropriate. Let’s go for that one, very appropriate song.«

(music: Tony Allen - Don’t Fight Your Wars / applause)

»That’s from the Tony Allen Live album. Two interesting factors: it’s a five-piece band and there’s no percussion there, which tells you something about the skills on the drums, and the other thing is you actually wrote this song way before the madness in Iraq and elsewhere.«

Tony Allen: »Yes, it’s like I’ve foreseen what was coming. This was out before the Iraq war.«

RBMA: »Does it surprise you that you’ve seen, as a kid, the end part of World War Two, the Biafran War, apartheid, all kinds of other wars come and go and here you are in 2001 and, pardon my language, but the same old shit is still happening.«

Tony Allen: »I don’t know who is going to stop it, we don’t know. Everybody has to bombard the government, but they don’t listen. If they’d listen, the common man could even advise a politician, because those politicians are fucking blind, man. They don’t see nothing, they don’t see nothing. Watch them when they go the House of Assembly, watch them on the TV sometimes when the camera goes ‘round properly: they’re all sleeping, they’re all fucking sleeping, dozing off like that (pretends to nod off). And those guys are going to dictate to you, whereas you could do better than him. When they put you there, you could do better. But it’s never that way, that’s why we always succumb to this stupidity.«

RBMA: »Would you agree with Fela that music is the weapon of the future?«

Tony Allen: »Of course, yes. Music is very powerful, stronger than the weapons, the so-called gun that shoots. Music is something that can travel quickly, reach people quicker than the gun. Music is indelible, when it’s done, it’s done. The newspaper, you can use it in the toilet, after reading it, it's gone, But music, no way. People of today might not understand it, but those to come in the future might make use of the message that’s there for their own time. That’s the importance of music, that’s why it’s a very strong weapon.«

RBMA: »Let’s play some more music. Earlier on you mentioned how you were open to everything and listen to everything. I’d like to play a song that illustrates that. You’ve recorded with Damon Albarn from Blur and Gorillaz and the MC Ty, who is Nigerian-English. So here you have a young musicians with very different styles, but you’ve recorded with him. How did that come about?«

Tony Allen: »With Damon?«

RBMA: »This particular song, Every Season.«

Tony Allen: »Because Damon was singing about me on one of his own tracks, Music Is My Radar, singing: “Tony Allen makes me dance.” So I said: “Who’s that guy there? He says I can make him dance, crazy person.” So when I wrote this album I deliberately left that track, because it was the first time I was writing on that drum pattern and I was thinking, ‘Who’s going to relate to this?’ I didn’t want to do it myself, I wanted some guest from outside. And this producer said: “Well, you can get me Damon.” I said: “Damon’s is a rock guy, is he going to relate to these patterns? Let’s check him out.” And he came. First of all he asked for my permission, would I let him do it. I said: “Why not?” And he came to the studio. When he arrived, he came with two cases of champagne, which is 12 bottles of champagne, to the studio, and he got boozed to the extent that he couldn’t sing, not that day. He said: “Tony, you know what? I’m really sorry, but could you let me take this music back to my own studio and I’ll bring it back finished.” I said: “OK.” The producer and the engineer said to give him all the stuff, so he took it back to his studio. The following week he came back with it and said that he needs Ty somewhere in the middle of it. And Ty just fixed his own voice right away. For me, it’s one of the best tracks on that album.«

RBMA: »Let’s listen to it.«

(music: Tony Allen feat. Damon Albarn & Ty – Every Season / applause)

»Every Season. Before we have you bless our eardrums, you’ve done so much in terms of pushing boundaries and combining different styles to the point where people have attached your name to different genres that you might not even like. What would you like to do in the future?«

Tony Allen: »The future? Well, as long as I'm around I’m going to keep doing what I do. I’ll be playing music until my last breath (applause).«

Participant: »Hi, thanks for the amazing lecture. I was just wondering, how was it back in the days in Nigeria, how did you get the instruments that you played with? I guess it wasn’t that easy.«

Tony Allen: »You are right. In this part of the world, maybe today things are changing slowly, but at that time it was difficult, man. Very few musicians were able to own their own instruments; none. The only way to get access to instruments was go and play in the band. The instruments are owned by the proprietor and all he does is hire the musicians. They come and form the band and play there, so that's why he has the power of terminating their contracts easily: “I’ve finished with you, get out!” It wasn’t easy for anybody to own their own instruments.«

Participant: »That’s what I was thinking, too.«

RBMA: »Any other questions? Over there.«

Participant: »Thank you for sharing all this with us. I’ve got a question about the brass section and the horns with Fela’s band: was there a standard grouping of brass that you used in the brass sections? What instruments did you use?«

Tony Allen: »The brass section consisted of two trumpets, one alto, one tenor and one baritone. We didn’t have a trombone in the band.«

Participant: »Thank you.«

RBMA: »I have one more question before we go to the floor. Actually, I have two: first, are there any things happening on the continent with young musicians that are exciting you?«

Tony Allen: »I flow with all of them, I go with the flow. You cannot tell, you cannot criticise and condemn, so I try to flow because they must have something. It’s not coming from me, so that’s all the more reason why I have to respect it.«

RBMA: »Does the same apply to people sampling your drums?«

Tony Allen: »Oh, yes. Look, they can sample my drums a million times, I don’t give a shit (applause and cheers). It would be better for them if they came directly to me, then we would be together rather than sampling. The problem is, when they sample it, if they can only place it properly (applause and laughter). So that’s why I said they can keep on doing it. Last time, Common, he couldn’t take it up like that, he couldn’t sample it, so he lifted it. There was no way you could separate anything, the drums had bass and guitars on it already, so if you wanted to take the drums, you had to take everything. So that’s what they did. I had some problems with that because they never told me, he just went and used it. He said: “Somebody brought it, listen to this, check this out.” “What, you mean somebody owns it?” He said: “The guy said it was just somebody from the jungle.” (laughs)«

RBMA: »(groans) That’s wrong, wrong, wrong.«

Tony Allen: »And so when I met this Rashid, it was tied up but I said: “It’s too late. The crime now is this: you’ve done this, this is lifting, lifting completely, and you don’t even have the courtesy to put my name on the album. It wasn’t there. And so it’s a double crime now.” “Yeah, yeah, but this guy said he didn’t know who made it, it was just this guy from the jungle, nah, nah, nah.” And so they didn’t put it on and now my name is going to be on the next issue of the album. Stupid man.«

RBMA: »Did you get paid for the use of the sample?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, but it shouldn’t be that way. If this guy came to me the right away it would be better.«

Participant: »When you guys were with Fela, did you have a certain way to tune the horns?«

Tony Allen: »I tuned the band.«

Participant: »How did you tune it?«

Tony Allen: »I tuned it with the piano, in E flat. So everybody came to me, the guitar and the bass, I’m playing the piano, touching the note, and I’m telling them when it’s right. I tell them: “Play your E flat chord.” And he plays it. Then I take them one by one, and the horns have to take that E flat note, strike it, it’s fine. Then everyone has to play the chord of E flat with the horns and the guitar and the bass. Poof, I’ve done my job.«

Participant: »Is there a certain reason why you chose E flat?«

Tony Allen: »Yes, I like it (laughter).«

Participant: »I’ve never heard of anyone tuning in E flat; that’s hip, I like it.«

Tony Allen: »That’s what I choose to tune with, so with the guitar, when it holds the E flat chord you go from the first string, second, third; it follows up easily like that. Just one pressing down for the guitars and the horns have to pick it one by one.«

Participant: »It’s a real pleasure to listen to you talk. I was wondering what the local response was in Nigeria to this record (holds up the cover of Progress) when you recorded it? Was it your first one?«

Tony Allen: »Second.«

Participant: »How was it received in Nigeria at the time? It was such a departure, you had very few vocals, mostly instrumentals.«

Tony Allen: »As a matter of fact I wanted to do my music instrumental. But I’m from a country where they always want you to have a message, to say something. Otherwise I would love to be playing instrumentals. Somewhere I come up with some messages I needed to pass this.«

Participant: »Did you write the horn arrangements on Afro Disco Beat?«

Tony Allen: »Everything. Nobody writes for me, nobody (applause).«

Participant: »It’s a real pleasure to have you here. Can you tell us any anecdotes about playing with Fela at the shrine?«

Tony Allen: »Wonderful. Fela is a very interesting character and the shrine is somewhere which is his own church where he worships and everyone has to go and worship there. He won’t go to a church, so he has the shrine where you have to worship and pour libations. He created his own empire, if you want to be in there, you just have to believe in what is going there. You can’t go outside and preach against yourself.«

Participant: »Is it true you guys would also come up with the material, rehearse it at the shrine, and then when it was recorded, you wouldn’t play it anymore.«

Tony Allen: »Which one?«

Participant: »A lot of the '70s stuff.«

Tony Allen: »Yes, we’d have a song and start playing it before it was recorded. Everybody knows the song already before we go to the studio; unlike me – when I write a new song, it’s in the studio. Different ways.«

RBMA: »The music you recorded with Fela, have you ever played those songs again after you've left?«

Tony Allen: »Never, I tried not to. He has children, if anyone is going to repeat his songs, it should be them, not me. When I started playing on my own, sometimes my audience would include the odd one who’ll say: “Tony, can’t you play Lady? Play Shakara.” Sorry mister, if you want to hear Shakara or Lady, it’s on the record so go back home and play to it to yourself, but I’m not going to play it. “Why won’t you play it?” I’m not playing it period, there’s no way. I could live on that, especially on the drumming. All the power of afrobeat is in the drums and the kick, I could play any of that stuff easily. But I refused, they're wasting my time. When I play these songs, I have to declare the music rights. Composed by who? Composed by Fela. Written and composed by Fela, author and composer Fela. What is my gain there? I gain nothing, I’m working for him to earn more money again. So no way, I never touch his stuff. I do my own thing.«

Participant: »It’s an honour, Mr Allen, and I’d like to repeat in public what I say in private, thank you for all you’ve done and endured to give us your gift. Thank you.«

Tony Allen: »You’re welcome.«

Participant: »We touched on what Fela was thinking politically when he returned from the United States. I want to know what you were thinking and feeling and how that touched upon your music.«

Tony Allen: »In the States I had so many propositions: “Are you going to go back to Nigeria with this guy?” “Yes.” “Stay here, we can get you a green card, you can do this, that. Stay here.” “Thank you, it’s a good proposition but I don’t want it. If god says I’ll be coming back to the States, then I’ll be coming back. But if he says I won’t be coming back, then I won’t.” I don’t see why I should stand on someone else’s platform. If I come back to the States, it will be on my own platform. Just suppose I stayed behind and made it – which isn’t going to happen anyway – somewhere in my mind there will still be something worrying me. From day one, I wouldn’t have been truthful to myself, I would have sabotaged somebody just for my own sake. I knew the role I would have there, I knew what I would do. When I left [Fela’s band], it took them about four or five months to go back on stage. Four drummers were employed immediately to take my place. If I’d done that in the early stages, it would have been worse. It would’ve continued being Fela, but the direction he wanted to follow would’ve been lost. That’s why I went back to Nigeria with him, because I believed I was working with a genius. I needed to stay with this genius to see how it goes, to see where we were going to get to. That’s what was in my mind.«

Participant: »You talked about the Black Panthers and the movements of that time. How did you feel about those movments?«

Tony Allen: »Those movements are too much like high level movements for an African. Back there, nobody’s agitating on anything, even if they come to knock down your room you just have to defend yourself. There’s nobody agitating, but now with the Black Panthers we know the role they play it. You know how many people died there, the sacrifice to be listened to, and that took time. Any time you mentioned you were a Black Panther, you were a victim. In 1969 in the States it wasn’t easy being black; then you make your mistake with the black beret, the police just come and whisk you off without asking anything. That’s why Fela says: “We have something to follow now, a big movement.”«

RBMA: »It’s very interesting how other Black Panthers have influenced people like Miriam Makeba and a lot of other people. There’s an interesting dialogue between Africa, the Caribbean and the black United States in terms of music and politics.«

Tony Allen: »Yes, Hugh Masekela was Fela’s friend and we were travelling on the same plane as Makeba to the States. She’d come to Fela’s house and we’d do Festac, this festival of music, that the whole world was passing through. Fela refused to play at the theatre, at our own club, that’s where the Festac was happening. Everyone who came for Festac ended up at our shrine, performing, jumping on stage with us, guesting. It was just that time, as soon as the Festac finished, everyone was going back. Hugh Masekela was in town there with Fela, a few days later they burned his house. Most of them were there when this incident happened. To me, it was a lesson for us. That’s why I say there’ll never be another Fela, you can’t have two Fela's, there's no way. Not even his children can be Fela.«

RBMA: »If there aren’t any more questions then we can move to the drums.«

Participant: »How much influence did James Brown and funk music have on you personally when he came?«

Tony Allen: »I like James Brown, I like his music so much, his compositions. His music touches me so much every time, but I know I’m not going to be learning anything from there. Every time I listen to it I think I need to add more (laughter). He has good vibes, man.«

RBMA: »Shall we go to the drums and be blessed (applause)?«

Tony Allen: »What do you want me to do on the drums?«

RBMA: »Erm, just play. In terms of the different kinds of rhythms, a lot of funk stuff starts on the one, some of your patterns start on the hi-hat, some on the snare, some on ‘do-doof’ as opposed to just ‘doof’.«

(Tony Allen goes over to drums)

»What we hear he’s playing now is the first stage, the early version of afrobeat.«

Tony Allen: »The pattern of afrobeat that everyone is trying to play today goes like this.«

(plays drums / applause)

»And another one goes like this.«

(plays drums / applause)

»And then another one goes like this.«

(plays drums / applause)

Participant: »I was just wondering, you said before you started playing the hi-hats there was a style of drumming that didn’t include it. Can you show us what that was like?«

Tony Allen: »It used to be like this.«

(plays drums / applause)

»On this one’s it’s slipping, the other it isn’t, so there’s a big difference when you play them. It’s not rich enough until you put the hi-hat in. So I have some more patterns for you.«

(plays drums / applause)

RBMA: »Sir, I personally want to thank you for the joy and inspiration you’ve showered the world with. Give it up. Give it up.«

(standing ovation)

Tony Allen: »Thank you very much for bringing me down here and to be able to communicate with everyone. And thank you for listening to my fucking crazy lecture.«