Slam Allen answers the call to rhythm and blues

Before he could read, he mastered B.B. King trills on his Sears guitar.

Before his voice changed, he was loading his little amp on a skateboard to play gigs on his Monticello block. By the time he was in high school, he was tearing up backwoods juke joints in Alabama where the toilets were holes in the floor.

And after seeing him Saturday night at the Clove Valley Trading Co. in High Falls, I, too, swear Slam Allen's got a calling. This is a guy who plays guitar like B.B. King, sings like Otis Redding and struts his showman stuff like James Brown.

And it didn't take long for Allen to prove it.

There he was, in a baggy light green suit, dark shades and a black derby, stepping to the microphone in the corner of the cozy room with hunter green walls and asking, 'Y'all ready for some blues with a whole lotof soul?"

There he was, bathed in soft pink light, banked by snowshoes on one wall and mounted fish and birds on the others, playing his black Gibson solidbody Lucille model so fast the notes at first seemed like one bluesy blur. But when you listened close, there he was, articulating each sweetly stinging sound, like his hero, B.B. King.

Before long, Allen was proving his music isn't just about the blues. How could it be when he's been performing "Uptight" and other soul songs ever since he was a 5-year-old who joined his father's Allen Brothers Band on the stage of Monticello's Club Nellie? How could it be when he was raised on the soulful sounds of such greats as the Meters, Albert King and Sam and Dave, whose records he heard on the big Zenith console at home?

Fact is, backed by a tight band of Donny Strofolino on drums, Mike Quick on guitar and Eric King on bass, Allen and his music had so much spirit it took all of about 15 minutes before he had the crowd up and dancing --- a crowd that had gorged itself on huge portions of Shrimp Enchilada, Linguine Pescado and other scrumptious dishes in the restaurant next door.

And when he launched into an original, "Things Sure Done Changed," there was no doubt Slam Allen was meant to play this music. How else could he mix the raw goosebumppopping power of his vocals with crowdpleasing, strut yourstuff showmanship that included sashaying to a table, pulling up a chair and singing his heart out to his fans - while he kept playing with so much fire that I had to see if the mounted fish had started swimming and the birds had begun flying.

And as he dropped to his knees, pounded his chest and testified, "I want everybody to feel what I feel", I knew for sure that Slam Allen, 28, is one musician who does have a calling.

I also knew what he meant when, days before the gig, he had pointed to his heart and said, "I really do feel I have the gift, the ability to affect people right in here."

I knew what he meant, because he had affected me there, too.

Stephen Israel
Middletown Times Herald Record