It’s been several years since Ali Campbell moved out of Birmingham, but the
accent remains intact. In January, when the 49-year-old singer found himself
back there, he was staying at the Hotel du Vin in the city centre. His
brother Robin came to pick him up and the two became lost amid the
regenerated city’s vastly altered landscape. “Nothing is the same as it
was,” he says.
Like much of what he’ll go on to talk about, the words chime with an
accidental sort of poignancy. Two months isn’t a long time – but then, two
months ago, no one had any reason to suspect that, after so long together,
the most successful reggae band in British history was on the brink of an
acrimonious split. Right now though, UB40’s former front-man is no longer on
speaking terms with Robin or the rest of the group. As Campbell himself
says: “It takes a lot for eight members to stay together for 28 years. If
you think about it, there’s only U2 – and there’s twice as many of us.”
There’s seemingly no going back. In February 30,000 Ugandan fans were gazing
at them, many unaware that the band were honouring their final live
commitment. By that time a storm of claims and counterclaims had already
broken out. UB40 said that Campbell had placed the promotion of his solo
album Running Free over his duties with the band. On January 29 a
statement from Campbell’s solicitors stated that the singer had left to seek
“a resolution to ongoing long-term issues that have arisen with the business
managers of UB40”.
Come the very end, there were no awkward goodbyes. Since being treated for
alcoholism, Campbell has kept a car waiting at the end of every UB40 show,
lest he be lured into the recreational habits that come with the after-show
party. In Kampala this meant that he could simply run off stage and,
effectively, out of UB40. But that was February – and by this point the feud
had already assumed a personal tone.
Taking exception to UB40’s contention that his “management” grievances were a
smokescreen for his desire to put his solo career first, Campbell struck
back, implying sour grapes. On Running Free’sarrival in the UK
Top Ten last October, he said that Paul McCartney was quicker to offer his
congratulations than any of UB40. “All I got was a text off Norman [Hassan,
the trombonist] that said, ‘Well done Piggy.’” Campbell’s nickname,
presumably? “Yes. Well, it used to be.”
The hurt comes out in brief bursts. During the course of a one-hour
conversation, Campbell says things about his bandmates that I suspect he
doesn’t really mean (a trait you hope he learns to curb before more
excessive remarks end up being published).
His bullish demeanour is heightened by the news that the group’s keyboard
player, Michael Virtue, has also announced his departure, citing similar
grievances. Just as telling, though, is the sense of a man keen to reassure
himself that he has made the right decision. He points across the corridor
to a studio where Chrissie Hynde – who duetted with UB40 on their version of I
Got You Babe – recently rehearsed.
“She saw my band and said how brilliant they sounded. Then she says: ‘I’ve
almost had it with my band as well. We went into the studio and it just
sounded like the Pretenders . . . and who wants to hear that apart from four
fat lesbians in Ohio? I wanna do what you’re doing.’ ” Campbell may suggest
he has inspired Hynde to find a new band, but the fact is that plenty of
people remain fond of Campbell’s old one. Whatever you think of their
Eighties mutation into a living reggae-lite jukebox, their first three
albums – Signing Off, Present Arms and UB44 – deserve to
be acknowledged alongside more fêted Midlands contemporaries such as the
Specials and the Beat. As it happens, they rediscovered their militant edge
in fine style on the unjustly overlooked Who You Fighting For in
2005.
When it comes to talking about the group’s infancy, Campbell needs no
encouragement. “Back then, Birmingham was multiracial. We’ve gone backwards
in that respect. If you go back to our old stomping ground – Balsall Heath
and Sparkhill – black kids hang around with black kids and white kids stick
with other whites.”
Campbell says that the values promoted by ensuing forms of music have changed
the social scenery. “You would never have a band emerge now in the same way
that UB40 did in 1979. But hip-hop came along and we inherited the
segregation that it promotes.”
All the more reason, you would think, for them to stay together in 2008. By
the same token, it’s nice to see him revelling in nostalgia for happier
times. Like all bands starting out, he remembers UB40 as a band of simple
pleasures. His friendship with Hynde dates back to 1980, when the Pretenders
toured with UB40 and “shared their rider with us”. Two years later,
substance abuse had killed off two members of the Pretenders, but UB40 had
ingested nothing stronger than beer and weed. That all changed, remembers
Campbell, with the release of UB44 in 1982.
Before recording it, they embarked on a tour of Europe. Bel-gium provided
their introduction to cocaine. “You go there and the hotels have glass
dressers with grooves for coke and little scoops for heroin – they date from
the 1920s. So we were getting into the history of it. I remember going out
and trying [cocaine], and just laughing at the top of our voices – you know,
that big elation thing you feel the first time.
“Two years later we were in Bo-gotá with the crew marking out the stage with
coke like it was chalk.”
Less enthusiastic was Campbell’s brother, Robin. Ali likens himself to their
father, the Scottish folk singer Ian Campbell – “I did everything to
excess,” says Ali, now a near-teetotal father of eight likening the
comparatively timid Robin to their mother.
How to square the affectionate glint with which Campbell talks about UB40’s
past with the open warfare being reluctantly conducted through publicists,
solicitors and newsprint? Of course, UB40’s implosion may turn out to be
temporary, but right now Kofi Anan, Terry Waite and a resurrected Mo Mowlam
would struggle to establish common ground.
Campbell’s story centres on two bones of contention: (i) his alleged attempts
to access details of the band’s finances; and (ii) his decision to make a
solo album at the same time as UB40 were recording their 24th studio album, 24/7.
Leaving aside (i) for now, Campbell insists that his solo tracks were recorded
in his spare time, without compromising the band’s schedule. For a while,
relations between Campbell and the band must have been amicable – at least
amicable enough for the singer and UB40 saxophonist Brian Travers to
co-write nine songs for Running Free.
Campbell says that he tried to convince the band that publicity for his album
would have a positive effect on the fortunes of 24/7. A further
sticking point may have been his enlistment of guest vocalists such as
Smokey Robinson, Mick Hucknall, Lemar and Katie Melua for his solo album.
UB40’s album was also planned as a set of collaborations.
But if Campbell describes the clash of projects as surmountable, the same
cannot be said of his problems with those running the band’s business
affairs. “Every member knows I’ve got gripes with the management and had
them for years. But their statement that I’ve left to pursue a solo career
and [think] I’ve become bigger than the band is all about protecting
management.”
Responding to Campbell’s words, UB40 – via their publicist – e-mailed to say
that they were “disappointed that Ali Campbell continues to use and hide
behind a variety of allegations against the other band members of UB40 and
their supposed ‘management Svengalis’. Ali Campbell’s departure from UB40
has always been about promoting his solo career.”
Campbell alleges that the group are happy to live on their monthly allowance
for the sake of a quiet life: “I want to find out where the rest of the
money’s going.” As part of the statement sent to The Times
the drummer James Brown suggests that Campbell – who once claimed to have
bought his wife a £2,000 pair of Gucci jeans – may have become too used to
living beyond his means. “The truth is UB40 were no longer prepared to fund
the extravagant lifestyles of two band members. After being given an
ultimatum by both Ali and Michael [Virtue] to sack our staff, some of whom
have worked with us for nearly 30 years, we chose to ignore their ultimatum
and they chose to leave.”
Campbell’s representatives dispute Brown’s words. They say Campbell requested
four weeks off this June for a UK tour – and that prior to asking UB40 for
this time, he checked with their agent to ensure there was no conflict with
a planned UB40 tour of America. It seems, though, that the singer’s decision
to play the solo shows in June this year compounded existing tensions.
Before last week fans were still holding out hope of a resolution. But on
Saturday Brian Travers posted a notice on the group’s message board from
which there may be no return. Angry at what he sees as the behaviour of
“someone that could sell us out quite so easily”, he accused Campbell of
“turning into an egomaniac” and using the dispute to “sell tickets for his
upcoming tour”. On the afternoon of our meeting, Campbell had already read
Travers’ sposting and pledged to “never share a stage with him again”.
Of course, if people have to move on, they will move on. Campbell asks if I
want to see his new band and beckons me into the rehearsal room. Once in, it
isn’t hard to see what so enthused Chrissie Hynde. Eight or nine skilled
musicians busily run through the setlist for Campbell’s imminent Royal
Albert Hall show. Scheduled to appear among these venerable reggae
sessioneers are most of the guest singers on Running Free, Smokey
Robinson included.
Fans will no doubt go home happy. But when Campbell opens his mouth to sing
the lines, “All I can do, I’ve done/But memories won’t go”, will Red
Red Wine have ever sounded sadder?
Bands...but not brothers: other rock and pop feuds
Bee Gees 1969 Robin Gibb leaves. Sudden stardom blamed. War of words in
the press. Reconciliation leads to US chart-topper How Can You Mend a
Broken Heart?
The Doors, 2005 Reform? Over Jim Morrison’s dead body. John Densmore
prevented a version of the band featuring Robbie Krieger and Ray Manzarek
calling themselves the Doors, prompting the joke: “When is a Door not a
Door? When it’s subject to a lawsuit prohibiting it from calling itself a
Door.”
The Beatles, 1970 A heartbroken Paul McCartney leaves the Fabs before
going on to sue them for the dissolution of the Beatles’ contractual
relationship.
Pink Floyd, 1987-present David Gilmour owns the name, but doesn’t want
to make Pink Floyd albums. Roger Waters, who doesn’t, is more open to the
idea. Don’t you hate it when that happens?
UB40: they came from Brum to save the world
1980 Band’s debut hit King/Food for Thought reaches No 4
in British charts.
1983 Red Red Wine hits No 1. Does the same in US five years
later.
1987 UB40 become first reggae group to play Moscow.
1994 Ali Campbell and Pato Banton reach No 1 on a cover of the Equals’
1968 hit Baby Come Back.
2005 UB40 play Cape Town leg of Live 8. Return to form with the album Who
You Fighting For.
2008 Ali Campbell leaves UB40.
