Gutsy, raucous voice of white British soul

Joe Cocker: May 20th, 1944-December 22nd, 2014

Joe Cocker: played 65 dates in 57 days on his Mad Dogs and Englishmen tour. Photograph: Reuters/Santiago Ferrero

In a musical career lasting more than 50 years, Joe Cocker, who has died aged 70, bounced between the euphoria of chart-topping success and the misery of drug and alcohol addiction. In the latter part of his life, the singer had re-established himself as a soulful interpreter of material from a broad range of songwriters.

Cocker’s background and upbringing in Sheffield, where he was born, son of Harold and Marjorie, established his credentials as a gutsy, salt-of-the-earth performer cut from stalwart working-class stock.

At first it seemed as if the young Joe was destined for an unglamorous future working as a fitter for the East Midlands Gas Board, but he told his mother “he didn’t want a job where he worked for years and years and then got presented with a gold watch at the end”.

He gained his first toehold in music with the aid of his brother, Victor, singing in various bands which, by 1963, had morphed into Vance Arnold & the Avengers. They played warm-up gigs for better-known names such as The Hollies and Dave Berry.

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Cocker was already beginning to develop the intense, raucous vocal style which would make him an international name. He was spotted by the record producer Mike Leander, who got him a contract with Decca records in 1964, for which he made his debut on disc with a version of the Beatles tune I'll Cry Instead. Despite a convincing performance, the single failed to chart and the Decca contract lapsed.

Grease Band

In 1965, he and bass player Chris Stainton put together the first incarnation of the Grease Band, which included the Irish guitarist Henry McCullough. Two years of club and pub dates, mainly in northern England, earned the band a committed following.

In 1968, EMI released the Stainton/Cocker composition Marjorine, which reached No 48 in the charts. Then came Cocker's version of the Lennon/McCartney song With a Little Help from My Friends, which topped the UK charts that November. An enthusiastic public endorsement from the Fab Four themselves did Cocker no harm at all, and the song became his unofficial theme tune.

A string of concert dates and TV appearances in America climaxed with his appearance at Woodstock in August 1969, where his performance of With a Little Help from My Friends became one of the most unforgettable sequences from the ensuing movie.

Cocker had another hit with the Beatles' She Came in Through the Bathroom Window but the Grease Band split up after he cancelled an American tour. Cocker then assembled the 21-piece collective known as Mad Dogs and Englishmen and undertook a punishing 65-date campaign packed into only 57 days. It spawned a best-selling double live album and accompanying feature film, but the chaotic project left Cocker exhausted and facing a crippling pile of bills.

He lapsed into a long period of hard drinking and heroin addiction, and it was not until 1972 that he returned to the stage as part of the 12-piece lineup known as Joe Cocker and the Chris Stainton Band. However, he was still drinking so heavily that he was often barely capable of performing. That October he was fined $1,200 in Australia for marijuana possession.

Raising his game

Cocker stumbled through the rest of the 1970s as a shadow of his former self, although he did manage to notch up a big hit in 1975 with

You Are So Beautiful

.

A switch to Asylum Records in 1978 spurred him to raise his game with Luxury You Can Afford. Better still was his 1982 release on Island records, Sheffield Steel, which featured powerful performances of songs by Jimmy Webb, Bob Dylan and Steve Winwood and remains arguably the definitive Joe Cocker album.

Cocker confirmed his resurgence with his duet with Jennifer Warnes on the schlocky power ballad Up Where We Belong, from the hit movie An Officer and a Gentleman (1982), which won a Grammy and an Oscar.

Subsequently, his career saw him coasting along comfortably, enjoying respect from his peers and loyalty from a broad international audience, although somewhat lacking in further artistic landmarks.

In his determination to stay on the wagon, he received unstinting support from his wife, Pam, whom he married in 1987.

Cocker will be remembered as one of the most soulful white rock singers to have emerged from Britain – the only homegrown performers comparable to him in that respect might be Free’s Paul Rodgers or Family’s Roger Chapman.

Perhaps more importantly, he showed enough character to fight his way back after being written off as another casualty of 1970s rock ’n’ roll excess.

He is survived by Pam.