Thursday, August 10, 2006

Unsung Giants of Modern Music (II): The Allen Brothers

Everybody is familiar with The Carter Family. Many are familiar with Jimmie Rodgers. Some, but not enough, are familiar with “Fiddlin’" John Carson." Very few, however, are familiar with one of the most diversified, talented, and flat-out fun duos of old-time music: The Allen Brothers, Austin and Lee Allen, sometimes known as The Chattanooga Boys. An old-time duo may not technically count as “modern,” but their unique qualities (even by today’s standards) place them, in many ways, in the upper echelon of early recorded music.

Born on Monteagle Mountain in the Cumberland Plateau north of Chattanooga, they gained popularity among the local communities and mining camps in the area in the early ‘20s and, as a result of hearing and playing with many other artists, developed a wide repertoire of traditional songs and popular blues and mountain music of the day. With this, they began recording for Columbia in 1926 with “Bow Wow Blues,” a version of traditional favorite “Salty Dog.” It became fairly popular and the label signed them to record more sides. They recorded for Columbia until the label released their oddball “Laughin’ and Cryin’ Blues” on their “Race” series as opposed to the significantly more white “Old-Time” series. Many of their songs take precedent from popular black songs of the day and, without meeting the duo or doing any research whatsoever, Columbia made what is essentially a clerical error. The single sold well and nobody seemed to care; nobody except the duo themselves, who threatened a lawsuit to get back on the white series. They left the label afterward and signed with Victor, where they stayed the remainder of their career, when they stopped recording in early 1934. They recorded 89 songs over these eight years, of varied scope and style, with odd instrumentations and unique lyrics.

The first thing that struck me as a new listener was Lee’s heavy use of the kazoo, often mimicking or replacing Austin’s voice. While now a fun, if annoying, child’s toy, it was often used as a rhythm and side instrument in rural groups in the early 20th century, but this is the only case of it used as the primary instrument, and the melodies he gets out of it are fast, bouncy, and smooth on top of Austin’s guitar or banjo (Lee would sometimes pick the banjo up, in lieu of the kazoo, but not often). At first, it feels very odd, and it gives the music a novelty but, because of Lee’s skill, instead of gimmickry, it quickly becomes natural. When the novelty wears off, there is the disparity of styles that appear song after song in their catalogue. Many of their songs fall distinctly in the old-time “hillbilly” style, but elements of the blues blurring the lines, not unlike Jimmie Rodgers. Unlike Rodgers and their other contemporaries was their knowledge and utilization of vocal jazz and “hokum,” a style of blues often used on Vaudeville that focused on blatant double-entendre and self-boasting (see “Please Warm My Weiner” by Bo Carter and “My Tweet Twaat Twaat” by The Za Zu Girl [Elton Spivey]). All of this, in combination, gave them an edge on other artists in which they could sell records and play shows for widely varied audiences in more widely varied areas.

For all the musicianship, however, their biggest asset was their lyrical styling. Their abilities in so many styles of music show themselves in their words as well as their harmonies. Alongside the regular subject matter of rural music: working, drinking, loving, and the sadness of it all, they were one of the rare groups to place current commentary and pop culture references in their songs. The song they are most known for “Jake Leg Blues” describes the epidemic of drunks in the early ‘30s who suddenly couldn’t walk because of “medicinal” drinks with Jamaican ginger extract that were popular during Prohibition and is, more than that, a good commentary on the desperation of this particular breed of drunk. They broke the mold of “old-time” in their commentary on depression-era politics, actresses like Clara Bow, the recent election of Hoover and, maybe most odd, direct references to their own music, its inherent greatness, the inferiority of contemporaries like The Skillet Lickers (these passages are strangely mirrored almost nowhere else until the emergence of rap), and many subjects that I have no way to understand.

The Allen Brothers were one of the few acts to be able to record and perform successfully during the depression, but it finally took its toll on them and they split for good in 1934; neither ever recorded another song. They were prolific, popular, and highly skilled in their eight years, but forgotten now. Their entire catalogue resides on three CD’s released on the supreme Document Records with extensive liner notes that virtually contain the sum of biographical and historical information on them. Outside of “Jake Leg Blues,” it proves very difficult to find a shred of information on them or their recordings. Their influence on future folk music is dubious at best and the varied nature of the music makes me wonder about their sincerity on any level, but there are few old-time musicians that are more constantly rewarding with repeat listening, and virtually nobody from this era is as fun to hear.