photo: musicisentropy · cc by-sa 2.0 ↗Joe Cocker turned a Sheffield gas-fitter's apprenticeship into one of rock's great voices — a throat-shredding, gospel-soaked howl that reinvented the Beatles' 'With a Little Help from My Friends' as a desperate, roof-raising plea and made him a Woodstock legend in 1969. He spent the next four decades wringing raw feeling out of other writers' songs, from Leon Russell's 'Delta Lady' to the Grammy-winning 'Up Where We Belong,' never losing the sense that he was singing for his life. His body seemed to fight the sound out of him — flailing arms, closed eyes, a voice permanently on the verge of collapse.
Cocker has said he was "really copying" Ray Charles as a young singer and called him a god — the direct source of Cocker's gospel-blues phrasing and his habit of pushing a note until his voice breaks.
listen forListen to the call-and-response shout of Charles's 'What'd I Say' against the wrecked, straining delivery Cocker brings to 'Feelin' Alright' — the same gospel-pulpit urgency, with rougher edges.
Cocker named Donegan, the "King of Skiffle," among his main influences growing up in Sheffield — the DIY skiffle scene that got a young Cocker singing onstage with his brother's group in the first place.
listen forDonegan's clattering guitar-and-washboard urgency on 'Rock Island Line' set a template Cocker chased even after he'd moved into blues-rock — hear the same driving, slightly ragged energy on his early single 'Marjorine'.
Alongside Ray Charles, Cocker's early blues listening included Howlin' Wolf, whose raw, guttural holler fed the rougher, more feral edge in Cocker's own singing.
listen forListen for the same throat-shredding growl — Wolf's menacing moan on 'Smokestack Lightning', Cocker letting his voice fray the same way on 'Delta Lady'.