February 8 1955 — May 29 2011
Someone named A. Sachs once wrote “Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives.” This is sad but true and nothing drives this truth home more profoundly than the unexpected loss of someone who’s made a profound difference in many Calgarian’s lives. When Tim Campbell succumbed to lung cancer at just 55 years of age many people were shocked and saddened while at the same time cherishing their memories of a great artist musician and individual.
On a human level Campbell’s loss was a terrible tragedy. He was loyal friend a role model parent and an incredible inspirational human being. On a musical level though it is no exaggeration to say that Calgary has lost a legend. Nobody but nobody played guitar like he did. Campbell’s rhythm playing rivalled Pete Townshend’s in the way he could simultaneously anchor and drive a song forward. His solos were often jaw-dropping: From a roller-coaster cascade of blistering melodic dissonance that would almost-but-not-quite run off the rails before finally levelling out in a thoroughly satisfying denouement of high string bends and squeals. Whether he was participating in avant-garde improvs with Street of Crocodiles muscular guitar rock with The Golden Calgarians or rootsy rockin’ cowbilly with Sacred Heart of Elvis his playing was always appropriate spontaneous and never the same twice.
Singer-songwriter and musical historian Allen Baekeland remembers meeting Campbell for the first time back in the early-’80s era of the Calgarian Hotel. Baekeland was a member of The Social Blemishes one of Calgary’s first punk bands when Campbell and a friend showed up at one of their rehearsals and taught them how to play the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen.” Even then it was obvious that Campbell’s roots grew much deeper than the prevailing trends.
“He wasn’t really influenced so much by the punk scene even though he was in it. He never really changed his style or had new-wave hair or anything like that. The guys he listened to growing up were like Rory Gallagher blues-rock guys so he had a different take on things. He was never really into the sort of ‘Rama Lama’ punk rock. He never played the same thing exactly twice — he would always be in sort of exploratory mode. Even if he was played the song a million times he would still be looking for new things to do.”
Sacred Heart of Elvis’ Ali Riley recalls Campbell’s sagely advice: “He gave me a Jimmy Rogers cassette to listen to and he told me that I had to listen to it before I started writing songs for the band. The other thing he told me was that I could understand everything there was to understand about rock n’ roll by thinking about Robert Johnson sitting on a dusty curb with a really fucked up broken guitar playing ‘Malted Milk.’”
Rodney Brent also of Sacred Heart of Elvis expresses his sadness while acknowledging a musical friendship that lasted more than a quarter of a century. “There was never anything competitive when Tim and I played together. We inspired each other and riffed and played off whatever we were doing. We had the Sacred Heart reunion and then we put it behind us. We started going in a different direction more as a soundscape behind Ali’s poetry. We were moving forward in different ways.”
It was Campbell’s wish that a big jam be held in his memory a chance for his many friends and colleagues to celebrate and make music together. It will be a fairly open and informal event and people are encouraged to bring any of Campbell’s artwork that they wish to have displayed. There will be a PA and some musical gear set up and a donation jar will be passed to cover the expenses. It’s hard to imagine a more fitting memorial to his legacy.
