By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 12, 2026)

Look up in the sky, up towards the north
There are three new stars, brightly shining forth
They’re shining oh so bright, from heaven above
Gee we’re gonna miss you, everybody sends their love

– from “Three Stars”, by Eddie Cochran

I was introduced to Eddie Cochran’s music long before I realized that I had been introduced to Eddie Cochran’s music. Hell…I was playing Eddie Cochran songs long before I realized I was playing Eddie Cochran songs. To elucidate: I found cuts like “Summertime Blues” by the Who, “Cut Across Shorty” by Rod Stewart, “Twenty Flight Rock” by Montrose catchy, easy to figure out and fun to play on guitar.

In the early 80s I was living in San Francisco, and worked for a spell pulling product at a distribution center for a Bay Area record store chain called The Record Factory. The job didn’t pay for shit, but one of the perks for me as a music geek was having access to the “returns” warehouse, which was where you could find all the cool stuff (and buy it at cost!). I was pawing through the bins one day and stumbled across this import compilation:

Well, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I scanned the track list and espied “Summertime Blues”, “Cut Across Shorty”, and “Twenty Flight Rock” among the selections (I’m a little slow on the uptake, but eventually I figure things out). One thing that struck me while listening to the originals was how stripped-down they were in comparison with the cover versions that I had cut my teeth on. There was something…elemental about them.

For instance, take “Summertime Blues”. Cochran’s relatively minimalist backing arrangement (with acoustic guitar and hand claps front and center) makes quite a contrast with The Who’s power chord-driven version on their Live at Leeds album. Yet, Cochran’s version is no less powerful; and the lyrics convey a timeless expression of teenage angst.

I’m gonna take two weeks
Gonna have a fine vacation
I’m gonna take my problem
To the United Nations
Well, I called my congressman
And he said, quote:
“I’d like to help you, son
But you’re too young to vote”

When Cochran wrote the song (at age 19), he was, in fact, too young to vote. Sadly, he was too young to die when he was killed in a 1960 car accident at age 21. Despite his short time on the planet (releasing only one studio album in his lifetime), his music and stage persona inspired a bevy of rock and roll’s heavyweights, from the Beatles to the Pistols.

For her documentary Don’t Forget Me, Kirsty Bell utilizes family recollections, personal diaries, original fan letters, rare archive material, and commentary from contemporary musical luminaries to tell Cochran’s story. In addition, “Eddie” himself (portrayed by Jack Harris) makes an occasional appearance and does some first person voiceovers (this “ghostly narrator” device has become somewhat trite since the 1981 documentary This is Elvis, but thankfully Bell doesn’t overdo it).

As recounted in the film, Cochran’s career trajectory was nothing, if not meteoric. His older brother gave him a guitar in the early 1950s, and taught him a few chords. By 1955, he was dropping out of high school to become a professional musician. By 1956, he was making his first movie appearance, in the Jayne Mansfield vehicle The Girl Can’t Help It.

Keep in mind, Cochran is all of 17 years old in that clip. All the elements that made him a star are on display: good looks, natural charisma, confident stage presence, and most importantly…a true rock and roll attitude (which in hindsight, borders on punk). Plus, the cat knew how to hold an axe; he was the archetype for the guitar hero.

As a guitar player, I appreciated the nods regarding his weapon of choice: a 1955 Gretsch 6120 Chet Atkins hollow body guitar, modified with a Gibson pickup (I had a chance to view it up close some years back at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame museum). While we’re on the subject of gear, I do have one minor quibble with the production designer. In one of the reenactment scenes, “Eddie” is in a recording studio, speaking on the phone. In the background sits a Marshall amp head. Marshall heads were not in production until 1962-two years after Cochran’s death (I know…there’s an annoying pedant in every crowd).

The breadth of Cochran’s influence is demonstrated by the array of legendary rockers on hand who are eager to sing his praises: Keith Richards, Cliff Richard, Alice Cooper, Roger Daltrey, Peter Frampton, Billy Idol, Suzi Quatro, Brian Setzer, Ronnie Wood, Rod Stewart, and Sting (Sting strums and sings a bit of “Three Steps to Heaven”, a possible nod to his cameo in the 1979 film Radio On, where he played a rural gas-station attendant who kills time singing Eddie Cochran songs).

My “minor quibble” aside, this is an engaging portrait of an artist whose influence arguably holds more import than his relatively scant output; then again, as he sang (almost self-prophetically) in his touching tribute to Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper, “Three Stars”:

Ritchie, you were just starting to realize your dreams
Everyone calls me a kid, but you were only seventeen
Now almighty God has called you, oh so far away
Maybe it’s to save some boy or girl, who might have gone astray
And with your star shining through the dark and lonely night
To light the path and show the way, the way that’s right
Gee we’re gonna miss you, everybody sends their love

(Currently in UK theaters; US theatrical release pending)