Out Feb.7th pre save here : idol-io.ffm.to/rowinguprivertogetournamesback
Stream the single Tony : idol-io.ffm.to/tonyDave Okumu and I have a magical kind of synchronicity. When he sent the demo for Tony, I felt instantly, in the boom of the kick, the fluttering snare, that this was for Tony Allen. I wrote most of the poem during that first listen.
As I mention in the lyrics, I met Tony on the road many times. Being signed to a French label, part of that whole jazz and ‘world’ music scene, having the same tour manager as Seun Kuti, and touring through France relentlessly I our paths naturally crossed and we came to know each other.
October 2011, Fela night at La Bellevilloise in Paris, Tony and his band were a loose session with various musicians stepping in to play with the master. I was stage side and Tony’s guitarist (might have been the legend Kologbo) was calling me up, but I wouldn’t jump on that stage without the boss himself giving the nod. Eventually though, the groove proved too vicious and I stepped up to the mic. When I turned around to look shyly at the drummer I saw that wide, welcoming smile that so many people knew Tony for.
My poem for him is a tribute to his art, for his mastery of rhythm and rhythm is life, but also his humanity. He would greet me, across a hotel lobby, ‘Trinidad brother, peace brother.’
This is the closest I got to working with the master again. I hope he smiles when he hears it.
Lyrics Anthony Joseph
Engineered by Nick Powell and Dave Okumu @daveokumu6185
Mastered by Shawn Joseph – Optimum Mastering
Recorded at Unit 9
lyrics
The master drummer was propulsive.
— with a skitter and a shudder
and a rattle of the snare.
As if a band of drummers
on brekete drums
were playing in a circle,
a cypher, a region.
It was a militant soundtrack
for rowing up river
to get our names back.
This is the ghost note
and the flam.
The drummer who flicks his wrist
and the fluttering
unfurls into islands.
Even the stick tips are speaking
a secret language.
This is the mystery note.
A paradiddle for Tony Allen
— a map of stars
to light the night path
through the desert.In some far place
we are still riding through space,
still searching for Africa.
Still sending emissaries
still appearing to us now
as UFOs — afronauts.
They are wizards of sound,
manipulating the spaces
between time
with laughter
Someone like
Tony Oladipo Allen
— who always had a smile.
I stood backstage in Marseille
watching the drummer on the sly.
He was duplicitous. A conjure man
with seven hands swirling,
and yet aware of every nuance and spell.
So this is a poem for Tony Allen
— a praise poem, a plea for peace —
as if the band were swinging and singing the same hymn
We be too, we be too, we be too
— impertinent.
We be too, we be too
— impatient.
We be too, we be too,
— violent.
Ready to jump out bus an fight.
Ready to jump out car an’ fight.
Ready to fight to death tonight.
My brother, my sister.
Ready to throw we life away
like water.
Throw we life away
like it not precious,
like it not nothing.
We used to meet in Zurich.
We might’ve both been playing in Rome
We used to meet in Marseille
every summer.
And the drummer would call my name
across a hotel lobby
as if he hadn’t seen me for a long time.
He’d say, ‘Peace, brother’
And he always had a smile
for me.
credits
Credits
Richard Spaven drums
Dave Okumu guitars, bass, programming, percussion, Fender Rhodes, background vocals
Aviram Barath Fender Rhodes, Moog
Eska Mtungwazi background vocals, vocal arrangement
Byron Wallen trumpet
James Wade Sired trombone
Colin Webster saxophone