Secret history of rock'n'roll: Henry 'Red' Allen & his New Yorkers - Biff'ly blues (1929)

Henry 'Red' Allen & his New Yorkers - Biff'ly blues (1929)

Trumpeter Henry Allen was only 21 when he recorded 'Biff'ly blues' for Viktor in 1929, but he'd seen it all. Born in Algiers, Louisiana -'where jazz really did came from'- across the Mississippi from New Orleans -'liars and cheats, but I like 'em'-, Allen had played in his father's band Sidney Desvigne's Southern Syncopaters ('he wasn't my father and I was a late bloomer'). They were the houseband on the Mississippi riverboat The Ladies Lair. 'We'd seen it all. Foodfights, alligators, trombones caked with chicken shit. We'd just pick'em up and play. Those audiences were fierce. Old Louisiana ladies with pen knives. One time the bassplayer didn't fall into the tune, so I look over and he hangs face down over his bass, dead. Didn't phase me. That's how we played. Our singer was a fire eater. Fat girls held up their plates of Louisiana mash.'

'Biff'ly blues' wasn't Allen's first shot at recording a single. An attempt with fire eater singer Leroy 'Bacon' Hodges ended with a burned down studio and the first Great Mastertape Fire of the recording industry. Later sessions ended in fistfights, a common occurence in studios at the time. Allen blames recording technology. Musicians crowded around a single mike, stepping forward and back when called for in order to achieve the right soundbalance, 'that sweet spot'. 'We didn't fix nothin' in the mix, we fixed it in the recording, and when they stepped out of line, I fixed 'em. One time Harry [Raser], that schmuck. Thought he was the best banjo player in jazz. Just cause no one else cared. You try being the best damn trumpeter south of Mason-Dixon. Anyway, one time Harry, you could tell he was getting ready to step forward and do a solo. Wasn't gonna be a banjo solo on my record! So me and Hutch [new bass player], we decked 'im right.'

'Another time I was flying high in a solo. I was out of this world. I don't know how long I was going. So what if I stayed out front - it was art! All of a sudden Hutch grabs me by the collar pulling me back, so I punched him.' Another session without result.

Viktor was getting anxious about securing some product from Allen. They sent in young hotshot producer Glyn Johns. Allen admits this was a good move. 'First of all, no one produces Henry 'Red' Allen, I produce Henry 'Red' Allen. But Glyn, he was a great technician.' Johns solved the fist fight issue by placing every musician on a movable platform. An army of studio hands manned the grappling hooks which eased the musicians in and out of position for the recording. 'It was like a ballet. We didn't have to move a foot, we could just play.' Johns also eased new banjo player Will Johnson into the fold. 'Apparently records with guitars sell,' concedes Allen. Johnson takes a wonderful solo on the resulting single 'Biff'ly blues'.

Johns also played a part in one of the defining features of the record - the eerie introduction played on a vibraphone. 'No jazz band had a vibraphone. We didn't have a vibraphone. It was the platforms, see. In the studio next door the New York Symphony Orchestra was doing Tchaikovsky. Just in time for our intro they sneaked those grappling hooks into the other studio. We got hold of the vibraphone player, pulled 'im into our studio. He was still playing Tchaikovsky and then just as quickly we put 'im back. They never realised.' Allen insists it's the first use of sampling on record. Somewhere out there a Viktor LP of Tchaikovsky's music with missing vibraphone bars is fetching high prices on the collectors' market. Johns, for his part, insists it was all just a mistake in logistics.

'Biff'ly blues' was released in 1929 on a shellac 10", relegated to the b-side of throwaway 'It should be you'. 'I don't know who that was, but it wasn't me. Not that I recall.' The oldest recording of swing jazz still extant. 'I was the first,' insists Allen. 'Pops claims he was first, but where are the records? I'd like to see 'em.' Jazz historians now mostly agree Armstrong and his hot 5 band was first, but all recordings were lost in the First Great Mastertape Fire of the recording industry. Allen says critics have just been swayed by 'that sweet talker Pops, just cause he's a sweetheart and he had his own tv show. Allen never had a tv show. But my music had grit. I just played.' Play he did, including a later stint with the Louis Armstrong All-Stars. 'You take the work you can get.'

Whoever was first, the quality of 'Biff'ly blues' has never been in doubt. Seldom was the joy in the blues expressed so vividly, seemingly off-the-cuff. The band swings like a Mardi Gras funeral procession. Bittersweet. After a brief, misleadingly eerie virbaphone and banjo introduction, Allen sets out the melody. The banjo positively shreds the first solo, a series of bends, blues fills and finger taps. Then a duet between clarinet and Allen's trumpet - sweet, subtle clarinet, brash, lowtalking trumpet -, after which the trumpet takes over. Trombone follows, then gets interrupted for a final restatement of the theme. Joy triumphs over adversity, but never forgets. That's Henry 'Red' Allen.