UB40 played their first gig in Birmingham in 1979. 45 years later they’re still inseparable from the city.

Finding hope at the band's St Andrew's @ Knighthead Park gig

At some point growing up, Jimmy Brown had enough of watching Birmingham City Football Club. Born, as he says, “in the shadow of the club’s ground”, Jimmy and his old man — a factory worker at BSA Motorcycles, then the largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world, located in a red brick Victorian-era industrial complex off Armoury Road — would walk from their Small Heath family home to the club’s Bordesley ground on Saturdays. Jimmy’s club had beaten rivals Aston Villa to the League Cup in 1963, but by the end of his childhood, they were in a multi-season decline. “I stopped going because it smelled of old blokes and pies, it felt like it was nil-nil every week and it was freezing cold,” he tells me.

Just as the sheen had come off watching Birmingham City Football Club for UB40’s drummer all those years ago, many fans could justify feeling similarly this season. When Jimmy was young, part of the diminishing allure of watching Blues was surely down to having to stand elbow-to-elbow on the exposed terraces that would later form part of the 1985 Popplewell Inquiry into stadium safety. While those stands have since been renovated — and Birmingham’s current owners have recently revealed plans for a new multi-billion sports quarter, with a new Birmingham City stadium at its centre — today’s footballing fortunes do have parallels with those of the late 1960s.

Me, chatting with Jimmy as he crosses his fingers for a Blues win. He wasn’t disappointed. Photo by: Richard Purvis/UB40.

Last summer, US investment firm Knighthead Capital Management bought a controlling stake in the club. What was meant to herald a change from the listlessness of the previous ownership era has instead precipitated freefall. Firstly, the manager who had the Blues in the playoff places was sacked. High-profile Wayne Rooney was then appointed but took the club on a downward plunge to just above relegation places. Four more managers have been in the dugout since. Current interim boss Gary Rowett is the man the prior hierarchy sacked eight years ago to chase their own big-name appointment. There’s a soap drama circularity to this. A good friend of mine, a lifelong Blues fan, has told me it feels like the hubris of the previous owners is being repeated. I often tell him that Blues’ season reflects the last few downbeat months of news from the city. Whether I’m right or simply being glib, there’s clear fan disenchantment if not disconnection. At least, as my friend emphasises, Blues fans are used to losing. 

I’m sitting next to Jimmy at Birmingham’s boardroom table an hour before their Easter Monday match against Preston kicks off. Due to the club’s position, it’s effectively a must-win fixture. UB40 are here for a post-match gig to kickstart their world tour and commemorate the renaming of St. Andrews to St. Andrews @ Knighthead Park. Nationally, the reggae band has had three UK number ones. Internationally, they’ve sold over 70 million records around the world. But it’s here in Birmingham that they’re considered royalty. They first played on St. Andrew’s turf in 1989, and the brass line to their first single “Food for Thought” has become an anthem that fans belt out when the team scores. “It’s a spontaneous thing. You can’t buy that type of connection with a fan base,” Jimmy says, emphasising his love for the club. 

During the match. Photo by: Richard Purvis/UB40.

The band has since updated that first hit into a direct Blues call-to-arms with their latest single “Forever True”, a record given signoff by the Knighthead hierarchy after UB40 were introduced to the American owners by Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight. While they certainly don’t need any further affection from the Blues faithful, the owners must be hoping some of the band’s standing rubs off. And whether it’s the promise of a free gig with Brummie legends, or the fact that the spring sun has finally appeared for the bank holiday, a near-record crowd for the season has turned up.

Before the match, Jimmy’s mind is largely on the football. “I’m crossing everything and doing my satanic devil worship,” he jokes. “I’ll do anything to nobble Preston.” Not least, he explains, because it will put the crowd in a good mood for the band’s post-match performance. Knighthead is certainly playing its part to ensure everything goes smoothly on the day: around us, deep in the inner sanctum of The Kop stand, a retinue of club attaches, hospitality staff and security ensure that UB40 are both protected and kept in fine food and drink. Norman Hassan and Matt Doyle are sat nearby; at the head of the table is a dark-suited Robin Campbell, not a back-gelled brown hair out of place. Adding to the sense of occasion, fireworks are let off outside.

UB40 on stage in the evening sun. Richard Purvis/UB40.

After the match, UB40 will play songs off the forthcoming album UB45, celebrating 45 years of the band. Later this year, Ozzy Osbourne will play two goodbye gigs, touted to be at Villa Park. Even a new Centenary Square concert this summer will be headlined by two Brummie acts who could stake a claim to ‘legends’ categorisation: The Streets and Ocean Colour Scene. I posit to Jimmy that perhaps Birmingham needs to look forward, to rejuvenate our musical offering, to ensure we don’t end up ossifying or becoming pastiche. He doesn’t disagree — but adds that, as Brummies, we need to celebrate our own. Jimmy explains that the city’s role in UK music is often downplayed, which does a disservice to our impossible-to-pigeonhole ‘Birmingham sound’. Indeed, in the same year UB40 were practising for their first-ever gig, at The Hare and Hounds, Margaret Thatcher’s civil servants were telling her that Birmingham was a parochial place. “Even though we’re the second city, we’re also overlooked,” he says. “We’re a multicultural band, and that reflects our experience of Birmingham.”

Musically, the city still has so much to offer today, adds Jimmy. This isn’t to say he doesn’t hold concerns about the environment for today’s talent. “It’s harder for bands starting today,” he says. “You’ve got to be in front of the computer most of the day [promoting yourself], which means the music becomes secondary.” Yet stars from the West Midlands have still broken through in recent years: UB40’s lead singer Doyle — who replaced Duncan Campbell after his departure in 2021 — stepped up from local reggae band KIOKO, who previously supported UB40 on tour, while names including rapper Jaykae and singer Jorja Smith are known around the world. But the city is facing arts and culture cuts of 100% by 2026, on top of the 43% cuts to local authority cultural spending that have been made since 2010, according to a Guardian analysis. When UB40 first emerged, Birmingham unemployment was rocketing at the fastest rate in the country, reflected in the title of their debut album, Signing Off. With this in mind, I take Jimmy’s concerns seriously. “I haven’t got a clue how we’d make it work today,” he says.

Gilly G and Martin Meredith. Photo by: Richard Purvis/UB40.

Despite the presence of Brummie musical royalty, the day’s football gets off to an inauspicious start. Birmingham lose the ball at the first opportunity, play soon becomes turgid and the sun retreats behind a cloud. The ground, a cauldron of noise before kickoff, soon quietens. At half-time, Birmingham are more dynamic, though — Jimmy must’ve found those drumsticks to cross. And, with 70 minutes of play gone, the Blues score. Later, they almost get a second. As full-time nears, the majority of the fans are belting out the brass line from “Food for Thought” in untrammelled joy. When the final whistle eventually calls time on play, I watch young lads jump into their dad's arms and eavesdrop on two blokes who embrace — who then, in true self-deprecating Brummie style, joke that the club is now up to the heady heights of 20th. The result brings relief, not least because relegation, staved off for now, brings further financial worries and potential job losses for those connected to the club. Right now, this is far from anyone's mind. Kids chase each other around seats as parents take selfies and chitchat in the early evening sun. 

Jimmy hopes that, because the club has recently purchased the old Birmingham Wheels land (he reckons it was bought for a bargain, given the seller, Birmingham City Council, badly needs the cash), it can put on more events like today’s. “[At the new stadium] there likely will be other services to go with alongside the football,” he says. I think of the new-ish Tottenham Hotspur stadium, which acts as a third space before and after matches. Through hosting regular non-football events, like Beyoncé concerts, the club has boosted its revenue, securing its financial future. I also think that of course UB40’s drummer, who made it when the city was facing the seemingly insurmountable challenges of deindustrialisation and unemployment, would be keen to see the opportunity in the difficult moment we’re all facing. Perhaps, I think, this is the right mindset to take.

Matt Doyle. Photo by: Richard Purvis/UB40.

By the time UB40 take to the stage, any future plans are for the birds. The party atmosphere is in full flow, directed by Robin Campbell, who leads fans in chanting Birmingham, Birmingham, Birmingham again and again. As the band plays hits from “Red Red Wine” to “Forever True”, the stadium duly sing back the lyrics as the evening sun filters through the gap between the Gil Merrick stand and The Kop: a curtain of light which threads a link between the band and fans. Coincidence? Yes. But UB40 do enjoy a connection with Birmingham that I don’t think those from outside of the city could command. “We’re still Brummies,” Jimmy says. “We’re inseparable from the city. It informs everything we do.” 

The evening sun breaking out over the Birmingham skyline on my way home. Photo by: Dan Cave/The Dispatch.

As the lyrics to the band’s final song, “(I Can’t Help) Falling in Love With You”, echo around the stadium, I find myself overcome with emotion. I walk away from the newly rechristened ground, back towards Birmingham down St Andrew’s Street and I’m greeted by the city centre skyline backlit by the early Spring sunset. 

Blues results might not have gone to plan since that sunny Easter Monday, council cuts still loom large, and many outside our city might still look down on us as this parochial place. But as I looked on the cityscape before me, from soaring new skyscraper to decaying goods yard, I was filled with hope and affection for our shared home. Indeed, in that moment, I could’ve sung that refrain for UB40’s set-closing hit: Birmingham — (I Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You.