{"id":4068,"date":"2022-09-13T18:26:00","date_gmt":"2022-09-13T22:26:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.montserratspotlight.com\/?p=4068"},"modified":"2023-06-10T21:16:14","modified_gmt":"2023-06-11T01:16:14","slug":"little-drummer-boy-the-talented-and-turbulent-life-of-montserrat-music-star-alfred-lord-alfredo-archibald","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.montserratspotlight.com\/?p=4068","title":{"rendered":"Little Drummer Boy: The talented and turbulent life of Montserrat music star Alfred ‘Lord Alfredo’ Archibald"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

On an overcast Tuesday in October of 2015, Alfred Archibald was laid to rest at Northern Cemetery in Nottingham, England. It was a sparse gathering, the mourners mostly locals who befriended Archibald after he relocated from Montserrat in 1998. Resting atop his coffin were a snare drum, four drumsticks and a black cowboy hat. The coffin was inexplicably draped with the national flags of Uruguay and Argentina \u2013<\/em> two countries Archibald had never visited. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Archibald \u2013<\/em> the Montserrat music star better known as “Lord Alfredo” or “Saltfish” \u2013<\/em> died of respiratory failure on August 31, 2015. He was a resident at the Framework Housing Association, which provides shelter \u2013 plus clinical and health services \u2013 to people battling addiction or mental illness. The Nottingham City Council spent weeks trying to locate Archibald’s next of kin and even published his name in the local newspaper. When no one stepped forward, the Council paid for his funeral, which took place 36 days after his death. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only about a dozen of Alfredo’s countrymen attended the service. Alfredo had become somewhat forgotten in a city that not many Montserratians reside. The man whose Road March songs once lured hundreds to the streets was sent off with a modest procession. It was hardly a turnout befitting his contribution to Montserrat and to music but it followed a theme in what was a life equally rife with talent and turmoil.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alfredo spent his final years wandering the streets of Nottingham and beating on a drum. Since he was a boy, he yearned to visit England, where his mother migrated during the Windrush era. But he never envisioned the manner in which he would finally get there, whisked from Montserrat along with other mental health patients during the height of the volcanic crisis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alfredo’s time in Montserrat was partly defined by odd behavior, but there was a method to his madness. He was a musical mystic who marched to the beat of his own drum, a master of melody, improvisation and profound simplicity. He was obsessed with music, the military, and, at one time, bodybuilding. But sadly, physical and mental fitness are not mutually inclusive. <\/p>\n\n\n

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Photo credit: Facebook \/ My Montserrat
Lord Alfredo was once an avid body-builder, starting in the late 1960s.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

HAILING FROM KINSALE<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alfred John Henry Archibald was born on September 22, 1949 and grew up in Kinsale, about a mile south of Plymouth, the capital. He was raised by his grandfather, John Mills, after his mother, Mary Mills-Archibald, migrated. Mr. Mills, who had emigrated from St. Kitts, was a tall, slender man with a bushy handlebar moustache. He operated a shop on Parliament Street in Plymouth and sold the popular \u201cmenthol\u201d \u2013 a hard, sugar-coated candy that delivered the cooling sensation of a lozenge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Former neighbors say Mr. Mills loved Alfred, and even sent him to private school Piper’s Prep in Plymouth. Alfred also attended nearby Wesley School. Rupert Pond, a musician who would later collaborate with Alfred, was his classmate at Wesley, a Methodist school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“He would come to school with his pockets full of menthol and share with his friends,” Pond says. “I would say he was an average student, but even back then you could tell there was something a little off with him.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

During the 1960s, movies were shown at the Roman Catholic compound on George Street. Many of these films were Westerns, and boys would play “Cowboys and Indians”. Pond recalls some of Alfredo’s daring and dangerous tactics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Saltfish would go on top of the building, and someone would pretend to shoot him, and he would just fall <\/em>off the roof to the ground,” says Pond, still marveling at how Alfredo never sustained a serious injury . . . or worse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The nickname \u201cLord Alfredo\u201d was obviously a takeoff of his given name, Alfred. A former classmate explained that the \u201cSaltfish\u201d moniker came about because Alfredo would beg shopkeepers for the bones and tails that were left over after the saltfish was cut. He would take the scraps home, boil them and add the water to rice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alfredo showed interest in music early, and he especially fancied percussion instruments. Neighbors say there was always some sound emanating from the residence, even the simple “shack-shack” \u2013 a long, slender seed pod from the Flamboyant tree that makes a rattling sound when shaken. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

MELODY MAKER<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a teenager, Alfredo joined the Melody Makers, a band owned by fellow Kinsale resident Charles Mulcare. On December 28, 1967, the Melody Makers were the backing band for the Festival calypso show at the Montserrat Secondary School. It was the calypso finals debut of Alphonsus \u201cArrow\u201d Cassell, who arrived with his own band, ostensibly because he didn\u2019t feel the Melody Makers could play up to his standard. Arrow finished first runner-up and refused his consolation prize. Alfred \u201cMighty Warrior\u201d Christopher won the crown. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“The Melody Makers played their hearts out for me that night,” says Christopher, now 84 and living in Florida. “It was almost as if they wanted to send a message to Arrow. When I walked on stage to sing, Saltfish said to me, ‘Christo, ley awi go!’ <\/em>I can remember seeing him sweating away on the drums.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

During this period in the late 1960s, Alfredo joined a trend that many young men in Kinsale adopted: bodybuilding. Wilford “Moose” Meade, who later became a gym owner, restaurateur and political contender, was among them. In the early days, without access to proper weights, the men pumped iron using vehicle engine parts, such as a flywheel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In an interview from the early 1990s, Alfredo said his body “dropped” in 1969 when he took a hiatus from bodybuilding. So in the early 1970s he decided to focus on music.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Photo credit: The Montserrat Reporter
Lord Alfredo belts out a tune in this undated photo. <\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

A WAKE-UP CALL<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alfredo made his big splash as a solo artist in 1973 with the song Jump Up Girl, <\/em>also called Wake Up Girl<\/em>. The only recording of the song is a live version, captured at Sturge Park during the ’73 calypso eliminations. The backing band was Aquarius, which featured Pond \u2013 Alfredo’s former Wesley classmate \u2013 and the versatile Michael \u201cDasha\u201d Underwood. Christopher, who by this time had retired from the calypso arena, was the show’s MC.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Saltfish never used to go to the bandhouse for practice,” Christopher says. “On the night of the show, Dasha told [the Festival Committee] they wouldn’t play for Saltfish because they didn’t know his song. Saltfish asked them to let him play the guitar, and he told the band, ‘Just follow me.’ “<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The band members were reluctant at first but finally agreed. Alfredo strummed the rhythm, and with Pond playing a classic bass line, the song was an instant hit and earned the Road March title. Jump Up Girl <\/em>is considered by many to be Montserrat’s first official, consensus Road March.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

LISTEN TO ‘JUMP UP GIRL’<\/em> (1973)<\/p>\n\n\n\n