Jimmy Campbell

Jimmy Campbell is one of my musical heroes. He really should have been much more successful, but he was far too quirky for that. He was a songwriter who wrote about life—a lot of the time, his own life. Listen to the wonderful, upbeat pop melody of "Penny in My Pocket" and then its downcast lyrics, telling of how he couldn’t even afford to buy his girlfriend flowers on her birthday because his latest record had stiffed. Real-life melancholy beauty, with a touch of dark humor and resignation that he really wasn’t going to make it, probably explains why he never quite did. A man who fought many personal demons and crippling self-doubt, and never having the killer instinct (he was far too nice for that, I’ve been told), Jimmy’s story is one of brilliance and struggle.

I once was privileged to be asked to play a tribute to Jimmy Campbell way back in 2009 by another Liverpool legend, Mike Badger—ex of The La’s, The Onset, and many other great Liverpool bands. We had a track called "I Dream of Jimmy Campbell and Rocking Horse," and at the time, Jimmy Campbell was even more obscure than he is today. So Mike thought we’d be ideal to play. It was one of my favorite gigs—not because we played well (we very rarely play well), but because the audience was made up of his family and friends. I was told many a tale about the great man. One of my favorites: as he walked the streets of London in 1967, a car pulled over, wound down the window, and Paul McCartney shouted him over, saying, “Hey Jimmy, do you want to come back to mine and hear the new album?”—which was the yet-to-be-released Sgt. Pepper. So Jimmy obviously accepted the invitation, but all the way through the playback, he couldn’t concentrate on the music. He was too worried that Macca might notice the huge hole in the bottom of his shoe and he’d die of embarrassment if he had. That story, for me, sums up the music and the man—a less self-assuming genius songwriter you could ever come across, a man who really didn’t realize just how good he was. And he was really good.

Just listen to any of his songs: from the early days of The Kirkbys’ Merseybeat pop, through the psych glory of The 23rd Turnoff—how the now-considered classic "Michael Angelo" wasn’t a huge hit, I really don’t know—onto his great three melancholy singer-songwriter albums. I was told Pete Wylie from Wah! was extremely influenced by Jimmy Campbell when he was making the huge hit single "Story of the Blues" and is a huge fan. If you listen, you can hear it. How did the one and only classic Rockin' Horse album—now once again considered a power-pop classic—not at least dent the bottom of the album chart? An album that is brimming with power-pop goodness and rock ‘n’ roll charm, and—pardon the expression—pisses all over the first two Big Star albums (as fine as they are). But then again, both of those albums struggled, so maybe sparkling guitar pop wasn’t the de rigueur at the time—a little like these days, I suppose.So what am I trying to say? If any music lover who hasn’t yet had the pleasure of listening to this great songwriting talent should really put that right, posthaste.