As many of you know, I’ve photographed a LOT of musicians, from the biggest names, like The Who and Bruce Springsteen, to the smallest local bands, just starting out in Dallas. I’ve been doing it for maybe fourteen years or so.
In 2008, I had a solo gallery show that represented the last ten or eleven years of my Texas music photography. Every night had a different local band perform at the gallery. One night, a Fort Worth musician didn’t show up (apparently, he fell off the wagon and disappeared for two weeks, but that’s another story), and I didn’t know what to do. The show was at Kettle Art Gallery in Deep Ellum, and it’s run by Frank Campagna. Frank said he knew someone who could fill in last-minute. It was a bartender from the club next door. It was also his son, Frankie, lead singer of Spector 45, a well-respected rock-a-billy, greaser, punk band. They were great and Frankie was so nice!
Fast forward about one year, and I’m shooting Frankie and his band for a feature in Quick. I could tell how real he was and how legitimately rock and roll he was. I could also tell how well-mannered he was, especially for being a rock-and-roll-acting, motorcycle-riding, guitar-playing hooligan. He’s the kind of guy who would post bail in the morning and help you move your furniture that afternoon.
Fast forward another few months, and I’m shooting a popular Dallas/Denton rock band, RTB2, in Deep Ellum. I see this cafe racer-style motorcycle sitting outside Club Dada and Frankie comes walking out. I thought it was his bike, so I asked him if we could borrow it for the shoot. He said no problem, and I wound up getting a shot that I absolutely loved!
After that, I occasionally saw him around the Dallas music and nightlife scene. However, I never shot him again. I always thought I’d wind up shooting a Spector 45 show or a solo portrait of him. I thought I had plenty of time, since his star kept reaching higher and higher in the local music sky.
This weekend I found out that Frankie died. There is a show in his honor on Thursday at Club Dada. I’ve got some other things booked, but I’m going to try like hell to be there. I wish he were still here. Being a father myself, I wish he was here for his dad and sister. Being a member of the Texas music scene, I wish he were still here for all the music fans. Knowing how nice he really was, I wish he were here to make more people smile, like I saw him do several times before.
