Alfred has always been a fascinating figure to this author. Like bluesmen Roscoe Chenier and Camille "Little" Bob, who are also black, he has a strong following both in the black and white community and it's not unusual to see him, like the other two, performing in all white clubs (there still a strong degree of separation between the races, regarding their venues of choice, and this "segregation" may be tacitly implied or more overtly enforced). After all, this is the deep South and old habits die hard. But what's even more intriguing about Alfred is that he can play to an audience that is decidedly redneck, often sharing the Sunday bill with Skip Dowers, a local C&W stylist who can uncannily mimic any Nashville superstar from Garth Brooks to Alan Jackson. Of course, Alfred's repertoire of R&B, Swamp Pop, and blues could never be mistaken for that variety churned out by Music City, USA.

This author has known about Lil' Alfred for, perhaps, as long as he's been amassing records--nearly forty years and has a few choice Little Alfred nuggets on the Khoury's and Lyric label in his collection. And it's always been a mystery why an artist of his great talent and vocal flair had never had an album to call his own. Aside from this handful of singles recorded in the early sixties, he had for years appeared on only one other album, an anthology, Three Great Rockers, which he shared with Cookie (Huey Thierry) and Shelton Dunaway and the Cupcakes. Originally released in 1975 as JIN 9003, after Floyd Soileau of Ville Platte bought many of George Khoury's master tapes, it has been repackaged as By Special Request (JIN 9037) and the latter, as CD, is still in print. Also, in 1968 he had one other cameo on a very obscure Lee Magid-produced single on A&M (Herb Alpert/Jerry Moss) label as by the American Soul Train (a.k.a. Boogie Kings), "Can You Dig It" bw "Tennessee Waltz." In addition to this rather meager recorded output, Eddie Shuler of Goldband in Lake Charles claims to have "in the can" five additional unreleased 60s-era studio takes. And that is about it. Really not much to show for a lifetime in the business, especially by an artist of his caliber.

Faithfully tracking Alfred over the last dozen or so years from one now-defunct club to another that once straddled the nexus of two Interstates, 49 and 10, and their interchanges just outside the city limits of Lafayette, including Chevy's, the Top End, and Yesterday's, this author has always remarked about his huge, devoted, and loyal fans. And Alfred knows how to work his crowd for maximum effect, often encouraging a sing along as he extends the mike to the audience, evocative of an age-old gospel call and response. A bundle of nerves, Alfred is never still and accentuates each line with the appropriate gesture, be it pleading, praying, or fist in the air exuberance. Prancing back and forth across the stage, Alfred is lean, lithe, and, foremost, lively, and each night delivers a superanimated performance which ever belies his fifty plus years. A person half his age should have such energy. Naturally, the patrons have come to expect such acrobatics and gyrations at every show.

And few vocalists have ever been endowed with such an instrument. Alfred harkens back to that grand tradition of 50s crooners, many leading doo-whop vocal groups, who sang in that high register tenor which bordered on the falsetto--Dee Clark, Frankie Lymon, Clyde McPhatter, and Jackie Wilson, the latter two cutting their teeth in Billy Ward and the Dominoes outfit, before making legendary names for themselves in the broader pop market.

Alfred's voice is such, even today, that its reach often exceeds its normal grasp, hitting those ethereal high notes that send shivers down the spine of the listener. One would suspect that the wear and tear of the nearly daily grind of entertaining in smoky lounges would take its toll on his pipes, but, amazingly enough, his voice seems to have gotten stronger over the years. Never has this writer caught Alfred in a hoarse moment.

"So Larry, when are you gonna write me up?" Alfred has asked often. This writer has diplomatically blown Alfred off on many occasions, promising a biography further down the road. And he has to admit that he's put Alfred on the back burner, so to speak, in deference to other artists who have recorded recently. But with the release of his new CD, Dealin' With The Feelin' (JIN 9051), which runs the gamut of soul (Joe Tex's "Hold On To What You've Got") to classic R&B (Chuck Willis's "It's Too Late") to New Orleans funk (Robert Parker's "Barefootin'"), an album which ably showcases his versatility with diverse material, there can be no more excuses for not telling his story.

The ever-youthful Lil' Alfred (a.k.a Little Alfred) was born Alfred Babino in Lake Charles, LA, January 5, 1944. "You know, I guess I was always musically inclined," said Alfred. Some of his earliest recollections center around a cousin, Simon Lubin, a drummer, who founded the Boogie Ramblers and who first recorded for Eddie Shuler's Goldband label in the mid-50s and later, with the expanded Cookie and the Cupcakes, enjoyed immense popularity in the 60s. "It seemed like I was always surrounded by music and both my mother and me, we sang in a church choir. And when I wasn't singing, I was playing tenor sax in the high school band," he added.

"I remember that I was so young that Khoury had to get my parents' permission for the release form, so that I could record for him," said Alfred. And Khoury didn't waste any time getting his young protege in the recording studio. Not having a facility of his own, Khoury took Alfred and the Berry Cups, a horn band formerly led by Terry Clinton, Cookie's younger brother, over to the Longhorn in Houston, TX, and there they taped "Walking Down The Aisle" in Alfred's inimitable tenor voice. Issued as Khoury's 726 in 1960, this Little Alfred composition was an immediate hit in the South Louisiana/East Texas area and had so much potential that it thereafter prompted erstwhile A&R man, Stan Lewis of the fledgling Paula and Jewel(744) records of Shreveport, LA, to pick it up for national distribution. The disk just missed making the big time and bubbled under the Top 100. It certainly was an auspicious beginning to Alfred's career, and warranted another trip to the recording studio, which Khoury hoped would yield an encore performance, at least as far as sales were concerned.

During the span of this five-year exclusive artist pact Alfred signed with Khoury, he recorded and released a total of a half-dozen singles. Some fared better than others, like "The Mashed Potatoes [sic] Back Again" (Khoury's 733) in 1962, which capitalized on the teenage dance craze and later in 1963, Chuck Willis's "Charged With Cheating"(Lyric 1015, a Khoury's subsidiary).

"After my first smash, I was using Cookie and the Cupcakes as back-up in the studio," said Alfred. At the time, this powerful brass ensemble featured some of the greatest horn players in the vicinity, including the saxes of Shelton Dunaway, Cookie, and Sidney "Hot Rod" Reynaud. On keyboard was Ernest Jacobs, whose other claim to fame was supplying the droning piano passages in Phil Phillips' "Sea of Love," recorded at Eddie Shuler's Goldband facility in Lake Charles. Rounding out this stellar supporting cast was Marshall Laday on guitar, Joe "Blue" Landry on bass, and Ivory Jackson on drums. By the way, Cookie and the Cupcakes, who themselves had a national sensation with "Mathilda (Lyric 1003)" in 1958, have recently regrouped and are touring with many of these charter members sounding great as ever.

"With the later numbers, we were using Bill Hall's studio over in Beaumont, TX, though George personally supervised each side," said Alfred. Although Mike Leadbitter's blues Bible, Blues Records, claims that all of Alfred's singles were recorded in Lake Charles, Alfred's memory serves him well here. This assertion is corroborated by the fact that more than a few cuts bore Hall's publishing, Big Bopper Music, named after Hall's former late partner, J.P. Richardson, who perished in the same plane crash that took the lives of Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens (Valenzuela) on February 3, 1959. After the Bopper's death, Hall teamed up with former writer/recording engineer Jack Clement(of Sam Phillips' famous Sun studio in Memphis) and a couple of albino musical prodigies, Edgar and Johnny Winter, who served in the capacity of session musicians, though not on Alfred's tracks. Hall, always having the requisite connections to national distributors, especially Mercury in the early to mid-60s, would go on to produce blockbuster recordings by Dickey Lee, Rod Bernard, and bluesman Albert Collins on his own Hall/Hall-Way label.

Despite the excellent backing, the fine engineering, superb recording techniques, and overall decent material, none of Alfred's subsequent efforts made enough waves to justify a renewal of this five-year contract. And by 1965, Lil' Alfred found himself without a label.

But even before this agreement expired with Khoury, by 1964 he had replaced Cookie (Huey Thierry) as lead vocalist in the Cupcakes, now a supergroup which had become the toast of South Louisiana. "Cookie was messed up really bad in an auto accident and I guess it was just natural that I take over the vocal chores from him. Not long after, he moved to California to try his luck there," recalled Alfred. Alfred also remembered that, though his recording career was on hold, there were more venues available than he or the band could possibly accomodate. This stint with the now Ernest Jacobs-led (as it still is) band lasted until 1967.

The Boogie Kings were founded in the late 50s by Doug Ardoin in Eunice, LA, and eventually its status as a powerhouse R&B band ascended to legendary proportions, as it simply blew away its competition at all the big name clubs of the South. At one time or another nearly every Louisiana musician of note served an apprenticeship in this huge, unwieldy outfit that sometimes swelled to as many as a dozen pieces. Over the years, some great players emerged, many of whom went on to forge their own careers, including drummers Bert Miller and Clint West (who formed a splinter group, the Kings), vocalists G.G. Shinn and the late Gary Walker and bassist Tommy McLain, the latter scoring with a national Top 10 hit in 1966, "Sweet Dreams (JIN 197)." Other illustrious alumni were vocalist Jerry "Count" Jackson (LaCroix), who recorded for Vee-Jay in the 60s, and the redoubtable tenor saxophonist, Jon Smith, both of whom later distinguished themselves as part of Edgar Winter's White Trash in the 70s. The exploits and long odyssey of the Boogie Kings in the annals of rock and roll is lovingly traced by leader and longtime horn player, Ned Theall, in his 1993 book, Living Like A King. Like Cookie and the Cupcakes, the Boogie Kings also have relatively recently reunited (1991) and are enjoying much success with a whole new generation of fans.

Aside from his fantastic voice, its Alfred's persistence of memory that dazzles this writer. He reeled off the names of the 1967-vintage Boogie Kings, almost as if it were yesterday. There was Ned Theall on trumpet, Dan Silas on baritone and MC, Norris Badeaux and Dale Gothia on tenors, Jack Hall on lead guitar, Gary Dorsey on bass, Kenny Yetman on percussion, Bryan Leger on keyboards, and Gary Walker and Duane Yates as vocalists, the latter also blowing the flugelhorn. A promotion picture circa 1967 bears witness to Alfred's incredible powers of recollection.

This first extended junket with the Boogie Kings lasted until 1968 and in 1969 came a swing through the Northeast Corridor which took them as far north as Boston. "I remember we performed at one club called the Downtowner. That was in a real combat zone. I wasn't used to places like that back home," he confessed.

This writer inquired if there were any racial incidents because the group was now integrated. "Not on the West Coast or the East Coast. Only in Louisiana did people have a problem with it. But there really wasn't a whole lot of commotion about the issue like people might think," he responded.

But soon after Alfred returned from this East Coast peregrination, he quit the Boogie Kings. "You know with that many guys, you've got to divide the pie more times. And each slice is smaller. I was just spinning my wheels financially-wise and not ever getting ahead. Although I liked visiting new places, I could make a lot more doing dates just around Lake Charles," he admitted.

For a while, he worked locally with steady gigs at Lake Charles' Bamboo Club and the Texas Pelican near Orange, TX. But about 1972, when disco started to become the rage, club work of the live variety suddenly was scarce. "I remembered a club I visited in Chicago in 1969 between stretches with the Boogie Kings. It was called the Burning Spear and it was down on the South Side at State and 55th St. Well, to make a long story short, they hired me to open for comedians and star attractions like Junior Parker and Johnny Taylor," he recalled. This stint lasted until the Burning Spear burned to the ground a short time later.

Alfred soon thereafter latched on to a large band that specialized in playing military bases. "We had an agent that kept us on the go. Her name was Barbara Buford. And some of our regular haunts included Scott Air Force Base in East St. Louis and Fort Benjamin in Indianapolis. I was doing an all R&B show with numbers by whomever was hot at the time, like Al Green," he added.

His Chicago stay endured until 1978, a period of six years, after which he was forced to return to Lake Charles due to his mother's grave illness. Even after her death, rather than revisit the Windy City, he decided to try to re-establish himself on his own turf. But, to his surprise, he discovered not only that his fans did not forget him but also did not desert him.

"It didn't take me long to get back on my feet. I teamed up with another hometown hero, Charles Mann, and we had some steady gigs for several years at clubs like the C'est Tout and later Magnum's here in Lake Charles," said Alfred. Charles Mann, a longtime recording artist for Lee Lavergne's Lanor records in Church Point, had in 1969 one of Swamp Pop's biggest sellers, Neil Diamond's "Red Red Wine (543)," and by the end of his partnership with Alfred in the late 80s was going overseas to promote yet another local smash which also was a chartmaker in England and Holland, his Swamp Pop accordion version of Dire Straits' "Walk of Life (621)." It was during his association with Mann (born Charles Domingue) at the C'est Tout that Alfred began doing Sunday nights in Lafayette. Alfred also remembers that he often played the same club with bassist Burton Garr, a bluesman (and Lanor fixture) who currently backs another Lake Charles Zydeco ace, Rockin' Sidney (Simien) of "Toot Toot" fame. "If you entertain long enough in South Louisiana, you play with everybody sooner or later," he added. Other South Louisiana musicians jokingly refer to this phenomenon as "sleeping around."

But all humor aside, one can see why it's difficult to set aside time in the studio for a major undertaking like an album when one's job is entertaining seven nights a week. And there's also the factor of putting one's best voice forward, even if, indeed, spare moments could be found for recording. "Larry, I had just been dragging my feet over the years and somehow the time just went by," he confided. He can't pinpoint the exact cause(this writer hinted at a mid-life crisis) which finally inspired him to go back to recording but Floyd Soileau was not only receptive to the idea but also he was enthusiastic. "It could have been when I was in Holland at the 1995 Blues Estafette[in Vredenberg Utrecht] singing with Cookie and the Cupcakes," he added. But whatever it was that lit the fire, Alfred likened the situation to cold turkey or when a longtime smoker gives up cigarettes. "I just quit performing and went out and did what I had to do," he asserted. And he doesn't have any regrets about the lost income.

"I feel this CD is already helping me. I'm getting a little press and it's opening a few new doors. I wouldn't mind touring again," said Alfred. But, regardless of the outcome, all his many supporters (including this writer) concede that it's definitely a step in the right direction for this genuinely good guy in the business, who is long overdue for recognition.