Redolent with resonances and painfully frank about the compromises we make to keep our beds (among other things) warmed, Peter Campbell’s Haunted Melody emerged as handily the finest album of 2025. Ensconced in Toronto, he courteously took some questions over email.
Seattle Star: What made you want to be a singer? Which singers, songs, albums, and shows, set you on your path?
Peter Campbell: I come from a family of professional classical musicians on my paternal side. My grandfather, Charles Lichter, was a Juilliard graduate, violinist, conductor, producer, arranger and composer who spent the majority of his career at CBS in New York. My grandmother was a contralto, recitalist and piano accompanist before marriage. My father trained as a clarinetist in his youth, and his sister was a professional flutist on the faculty at Juilliard for many years.
The “business of show” and the creative arts were always around me, as my father went on to work as a broadcast producer in advertising. Through his connections, I was able to sign with an agent and audition for film and television projects. At the age of eleven, I discovered that I could sing. I auditioned for and landed a spot at Something Different, a venue in New York where young artists from theater, film and television performed on the weekends. It was there that I learned about microphone technique, stagecraft and live performance. In my early twenties, I recorded commercial jingles and was involved in several recording development projects (none of which went anywhere).
As a native New Yorker, musical theater and the work of Stephen Sondheim inspired me from an early age. Judy Collins’ 1975 album Judith (which contains her version of “Send in the Clowns”) introduced me not only to the work of Sondheim and Jimmy Webb but also to the beauty of the human voice and what it could express. When I discovered Shirley Horn in my early twenties, I felt a kinship with her inventive piano harmonies and direct vocal delivery. It was, in essence, a combination of cabaret and jazz to which I totally related.
Seattle Star: What are your most vivid memories of growing up in showbiz?
Peter Campbell: My father produced an advertising campaign for Maxwell House Coffee in the 1970s. The campaign starred Margaret Hamilton, the actress who portrayed the Wicked Witch of the West in the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz. I was probably five years old and vividly remember visiting the set on location in Connecticut. Ms. Hamilton could not have been more lovely to this obsessed young fan and presented me with autographed, personalized film stills.
Seattle Star: Who were your most important vocal/musical coaches, and what were their most important lessons?
Peter Campbell: Because of associations in the classical music world, I was incredibly fortunate to connect with the late voice teacher Joyce McLean. She was not only my voice teacher for thirteen years but also one of the most important figures in my life. At fifteen, I was the youngest student she had ever trained. Joyce taught privately and was on the faculty at Juilliard for many years. For the last ten years of his career, Joyce trained James McCracken, one of the top American operatic tenors of the 1960s and 1970s and a mainstay of the Metropolitan Opera.
Though she worked with classical technique (in this case, bel canto), Joyce never tried to push a particular style or specific method of singing. She tailored her teaching to the individual voice. Bel canto is about singing at your best with the most comfort and the least perceptible effort.
Technique is only effective if you are able to discard it and do the work. Joyce helped me find my authentic voice and work with proper support, phrasing and diction to most healthily, truthfully and beautifully perform a song.
Seattle Star: What are your best, worst, and wackiest stories, from singing all over the map?
Peter Campbell: I’ve experienced everything: microphone and sound malfunctions; drunk hecklers; a keyboard player who forgot to bring his sustain pedal; musicians changing tempo or key without warning; uncooperative collaborators. I’ve also experienced some wonderful moments of synchronicity with musicians where we all get “in the zone.” It doesn’t happen often, but it’s pretty fabulous when it does.
Seattle Star: How have you gone about assembling a team to record and perform with? Who are your most important collaborators, and what does each bring to the table?
Peter Campbell: A singer is only as good as his or her collaborators. A lifetime of exposure to a very high level of musicianship has trained me to identify the great from the adequate. Collaborating with a singer requires a different skill set. The better a musician is in the studio, the less work I will have to do in post-production to correct mistakes. Just some of the great musicians with whom I have worked include Lee Musiker, Gene Bertoncini, Chip Jackson, Mark Kieswetter, Adrean Farrugia, Reg Schwager, Michael Occhipinti, Ross MacIntyre, Kevin Turcotte, Joel Frahm and Bill McBirnie. Great talent and technical proficiency aside, these musicians fundamentally understand that serving the song, and the collective ensemble, is key.
Seattle Star: You cut this new album after living in Portugal. How did you decide to go, where did you end up, and for how long? What were the country’s most important lessons for you?
Peter Campbell: My travels to Portugal started in the fall of 2021. I had begun a romantic relationship with a Portuguese man prior to the onset of the pandemic, though we had met several years earlier through music connections. As the world began to reopen, I was able to travel abroad and, over the next four years, spend extended periods just outside of Lisbon in the Oeiras borough. I went to Portugal for love, if you will, and expected to relocate there permanently. Sadly, that was not to be.
Understandably, I took a much deeper dive into the world of Portuguese language music, specifically from Brazil. The arts are valued in Portugal and supported by the government and local municipalities. Though Portugal has become a major tourist destination in recent years, it remains a beautiful, friendly and down-to-earth country. The traditional folk music of Portugal, known as fado, emphasizes emotion and longing (saudade) through narrative and expressive performance.
Because of my focus on lyric and vocal expression using an economy of means, I appreciate the clarity and musical restraint of fado. Personally, I am unimpressed by current gimmicks, gymnastics and “party tricks” that permeate today’s music scene.
Seattle Star: “My Mood Is You” had two versions from Lena Horne and one from Jack Jones. Which version(s) inspired you the most, and how?
Peter Campbell: I can’t say that any particular version of the song influenced my own. I was certainly aware of the two versions recorded by Lena Horne (1970 and 1994). I actually first heard the song as recorded in 2005 by Claire Martin and Sir Richard Rodney Bennett. “My Mood Is You” is one of the few songs with both music and lyrics by Carl Sigman. I adore its harmonic complexity and layered codependent narrative.
Seattle Star: You’ve mentioned the strong influence Shirley Horn’s had on you. How did you discover her work, grow and change with it? Did you ever meet her and/or see her show?
Peter Campbell: When I first heard Shirley Horn, I had what may be described as an “Aha!” moment. While a university student, I randomly came across her version of the contemporary standard “Where Do You Start” from her 1992 recording Here’s to Life. I had never experienced a musician able to express so much with such seeming economy. She conveyed her emotional and musical wisdom directly to this particularly rapt listener, and I hung on to her every word.
I was lucky enough to see her work live in concert on five occasions. Each was a master class in song interpretation. At New York’s Village Vanguard in April 1997, Shirley Horn came to the stage after a lengthy delay. She sat down at the piano and began to play “A Time for Love.” You could literally hear a pin drop: her performance was mesmerizing. Hallmarks of a typical Horn performance were present that night: impeccable taste in material; absolute dedication to lyric interpretation; and her distinctive approach to tempo – often at a glacial pace. She was fearless in her ability to expose herself emotionally with such technical mastery.
The last time I saw Shirley Horn was in February 2004 at Avery Fisher Hall in New York. She was, by this time, confined to a wheelchair following the amputation of her right foot. Accompanied by the late George Mesterhazy, Horn began to sing Lennon & McCartney’s “Yesterday.” A song you thought you knew proved fresh, contemporary, poignant and deeply personal. Her performance was heartbreaking.
Seattle Star: When did you first hear “He Never Mentioned Love”? How did Shirley Horn’s version inspire your own?
Peter Campbell: This song by Curtis Lewis–part of his “Garden of the Blues” Suite–was first recorded in 1960 by Horn for her debut album Embers and Ashes. I knew of the song from my decades-long love affair with her work. When choosing to record “He Never Mentioned Love,” I can’t say that Horn’s version particularly influenced my own. I took the song on its own merits and, with the help of [guitarist] Reg Schwager, crafted an arrangement that felt appropriate for me and the narrative. The use of Fender Rhodes gave a slightly fresh twist on a fairly traditional jazz ballad.
Seattle Star: “Song For Old Lovers” just breaks my heart. And it’s apparently your own favorite cut on the new album. How did you find it, and how did you go about plumbing its depths?
Peter Campbell: My introduction to Jacques Brel’s “La chanson des vieux amants” was Judy Collins’s recording on her 1967 album Wildflowers. In 2009, Amanda McBroom released a tribute album entitled Chanson: Amanda McBroom Sings Jacques Brel. A singer, actress and songwriter, McBroom is best known for her original song “The Rose” (a signature, Grammy-winning song for Bette Midler). Though she recorded previously released English-language versions of Brel compositions, McBroom penned several original lyrics for her Brel album.
Her lyric to “La chanson des vieux amants” blew me away. It not only succeeded as a lyric on its own but also as a close approximation of the narrative expressed in the original French lyric by Gérard Jouannest. Many have attempted to write English lyrics to this seminal work of French chanson. In my humble opinion, almost all have failed except McBroom. I considered recording a version in French, but felt the world did not need another interpretation by a native English speaker with questionable French pronunciation.
As for the arrangement, I must acknowledge the late Marianne Faithfull and the very much alive Bill Frisell. Their collaborations on Faithfull’s 1987 album Strange Weather inspired the arrangement of this song in terms of its sonic character. The combination of Reg Schwager’s classical guitar and Michael Occhipinti’s multi-layered electric guitar (and the addition of a mandolin) is pretty spectacular. Bill McBirnie’s alto flute work is deeply haunting and technically extraordinary.
Depressing ballads–or what I jokingly refer to as “wrist-slashers”–are my stock-in-trade. The narrative, melody and harmonic structure of a song like this, gets to the core of who I am emotionally and musically. I have experienced enough emotional trauma and its consequences throughout my life from which I can draw. When a song is so well crafted, it hopefully sings itself.
Seattle Star: “I’m Lost” features former George Shearing arranger Reg Schwager. What would you say are the primary ingredients in a Shearing arrangement, and how did Mr. Schwager go about deploying that recipe?
Peter Campbell: A basic description of the “Shearing Sound” would be the doubling of melodic parts in unison by multiple instruments. Shearing would play the melodic line using block chords and arrange for guitar and vibraphone to double the top melodic line. In the case of “I’m Lost,” Reg arranged the intro and outro wherein the piano and guitar play the same melodic line in unison at higher or lower octaves.
Seattle Star: You cut “Forgetting You” in the middle of a blizzard. How did this influence the mood? Were you fearful of a power outage?
Peter Campbell: I was more fearful of everyone getting stuck in a snow drift! When you have four hours and no rehearsal to lay down tracks, you have to get down to business. That said, Adrean Farrugia and Joel Frahm are two of the finest musicians with whom I have ever worked (and two of the nicest). My confidence in their abilities automatically neutralized any anxiety I might have had. We were definitely cozy and happy to be warm!
Seattle Star: You’re currently ensconced in Toronto. Do we Americans have any chance of seeing you anytime soon? (We wouldn’t blame you for staying up there.)
Peter Campbell: My life has been rather unsteady over the past two years. I am still trying to regain my footing after several recent moves and personal and family losses. Any future performances will likely take place in the Toronto area.
Seattle Star: Any future plans regarding shows, recordings, and staying sane?
Peter Campbell: Sanity? What’s that? :)
My level of sanity will greatly improve once the current U.S. administration is out of office. Otherwise, please refer to my previous response.
As for future endeavours, I have been researching a project involving the work of Brazilian composers such as Antônio Carlos Jobim, Ivan Lins, Dori Caymmi, Ary Barroso and Sueli Costa. The popular music that has come out of Brazil in the last sixty years is truly astonishing, and the opportunity to explore material beyond the confines of traditional bossa nova excites me.
