Tony Allen 'changed the language of drums,' says the late musician's friend and protégé

Transcript

Drummer Tony Allen never showed any signs of slowing down, says one of the young musicians who had the honour of studying under him. 

Allen, a storied musician who is credited with pioneering the revolutionary Afrobeat sound alongside his musical partner Fela Kuti, died Thursday in Paris of an aortic aneurysm. He was 79.

Allen started drumming in Lagos, Nigeria, in the 1960s and went on to have a career that spanned decades and continents. 

He also had a reputation for helping new artists find their way. One of those artists is Moses Boyd, 28-year-old London-based drummer. He studied with Allen and they taught a master class together in 2016 for the Guardian newspaper's Gateway series. 

Here is part of his conversation with As It Happens host Carol Off. 

Moses, what was it like to be in the room with Tony Allen when he played that drum set?

It was a very special and surreal moment. 

I had listened to so much of his contribution to Fela Kuti's music and other artists so much since I was about 16. And that was the first time I had met him. 

And you could imagine not only is it the first time I'm meeting him, I'm also interviewing him and getting a drum lesson in front of people and broadcast to the whole world.

I wasn't expecting that. It was all quite thrown together last minute, that whole situation. But I'm glad it happened. And it started a very beautiful friendship.

What is it about Tony Allen? What did he represent in the world of drumming?

He would often say he's the only Afrobeat drummer, you know. He was very confident in his ability, which I really liked about him. 

Not many drummers have changed the language of drums.… It doesn't happen that often. Tony Allen definitely added something unique to the canon of drumming, which in effect changed music, whether people are aware of it or not.

He's a unique voice that once you kind of heard and understood his patterns and how he put things together; it's such a mammoth contribution to the instrument. It's just incredible.

He was the pioneer of Afrobeat, as you say. We now hear it in so many different compositions that you don't know that this had to originate some place, this very specific revolutionary rhythm. What is it about that? Can you describe what it sounds like?

It's mad. It's really hard to put into words. It's taking a lot of the rhythmic and drum languages from ... West Africa in particular … but he made all those rhythms so funky and accessible in, I guess, maybe a sort of Western gaze, if that makes sense.

Fela would often ask him for a drumbeat and then he'd go and write a song afterwards. So it's like the fact that his contribution was a foundation to a lot of the music that we know as Afrobeat is so prolific.

But he didn't want the drum to be heard in music, in performance, as just a beat. He saw it as an instrument that had a range, that had notes, that had chords in it, didn't he?

If you ever had the privilege of watching him play, it's almost like he could kind of draw [the music] out.

He doesn't bash the drums. He more caresses them to get the tones and the melodies out of them. And he was like a master of touch.

Not only was it so strong in his rhythm, it was very melodic and very tonal. It was a whole tone. When you hear Tony Allen, it's undeniable it's him. And I think that's what musicians on any instrument strive for, really.

How do you think he wanted us, the listeners, to respond to this? To compel us to dance or to move or to think or to feel?

Well, Tony was a fun guy, man. Every time I saw him, he was … just energy. He was like the youngest 70-odd-year-old I'd ever seen.

So I'd imagine he'd want people to enjoy themselves, to get loose, but also to understand, you know, the study and the craft behind it.

It was that kind of duality of having intellect, but intellect that served the people to the point you don't have to think about what's going on. You don't have to understand the mechanics of his rhythm. You just feel it.

But for those that know, they know, you know?

He had an really amazing schedule. He was 79 when he died, and he was still going strong.

Yeah. That's why, I guess, it came as such a shock.

If you'd ever seen him … he looked healthy. You know, every time I saw him, he had a whiskey in his hand. He didn't show any signs of slowing down. 

Written by Sheena Goodyear with files from John McGill and The Associated Press. Interview produced by John McGill. Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.