This Place, These People, This Passion: The Story of Jamie Webster

From the terraces of Anfield to the stages of Glastonbury, Jamie Webster’s rise is a story of music, defiance, and deep-rooted love for Liverpool FC

I have always believed there is something in the water in Liverpool. A rhythm that gets into your bones, a melody in the accent, and a defiance in the soul. And when I think about what that looks like on stage, when it grabs a guitar and lets the world hear it, I think of Jamie Webster.

He is not just a lad with a mic and a Scouse twang. He is the sound of Liverpool. Not polished or manufactured, but true, raw, and resolutely of the people. He plays with the sort of passion that makes your voice hoarse and your heart thump. And now, having just played his fifth Glastonbury, it feels like the world is finally singing along.

Yet the journey from wiring flats in Birkenhead to headlining festival stages across Europe is not one born of dreams alone. Jamie has grafted for this. You can hear it in every line he belts out, in the way he sings for the lad getting the train home after a night shift, for the nurse heading into another long one, for the kid clinging to a guitar because the world doesn’t make sense unless he plays it.

I remember the first time I heard "Weekend in Paradise". It wasn’t in a fancy setting. Just a group of us, a speaker, and the sense that this fella meant every single word. It didn’t feel like a performance, it felt like someone holding up a mirror to real life and setting it to music. There’s a reason it became a terrace anthem before it climbed the charts. It is built on lived experience, and in Liverpool, they know when something’s real.

Jamie’s early gigs weren’t found through backroom industry meetings or talent scouts. They were found in the noise and energy of BOSS Nights. There, he took covers and reshaped them into Scouse poetry, dropping in names like Henderson and Van Dijk with the sort of affection that only comes from genuine love. What started as crowd banter soon became crowd songs, and before long, Liverpool FC were calling.

He played on official tours, sang in fan zones before European finals, and found himself front and centre of the Red wave in Madrid in 2019. There he was, guitar in hand, voice cracking, heart full, singing to 60,000 Reds on the eve of a sixth European Cup. It wasn’t a performance, it was a communion. And in that moment, Jamie Webster became part of Liverpool folklore.

He’ll never say that himself, of course. Humility is stitched into him. But it was clear for anyone watching. A working-class lad from Norris Green singing to the world, and the world singing back. It was unforgettable.

Yet for all the glory and the gigs, he’s never lost sight of where he’s from. Jamie still talks about the electrician shifts that shaped his work ethic. About the laughs on site, the rain-soaked jobs, the times he wondered if this was all life was. And it’s that honesty that sits at the core of every song he writes.

In “We Get By”, his debut album, he laid it all out. Twelve tracks that speak of frustration, escape, hope, and unity. It wasn’t just an album, it was a portrait of everyday working life. It landed in the charts at number six, a staggering achievement for a lad who, by his own admission, never expected more than a gig at the Zanzibar.

By the time "Moments" followed, there was no doubt. He’d cemented his place, and the songs only dug deeper. Now with "10 For The People", Jamie has taken it a step further. He’s writing not just about his own experiences, but about those around him. Ten stories, each rooted in the everyday, reflecting the struggles, laughs, heartbreak, and hope that shape working-class life across the UK. These aren’t abstract ideas. These are match-goers, shift workers, carers, grafters. He is writing for the people who rarely see themselves represented in mainstream music.

I caught an interview with him before his Glastonbury set this year, and while the eyes were tired and the voice a little hoarse from a few too many good parties, the fire was still there. He spoke about the gig with joy, laughing that it might be more "Kumbaya" than "Common People" this time, but the energy would be the same. That’s what Jamie does. No matter the setting, he gives everything. There is no autopilot. Just heart.

And when he talks about Glastonbury, there is no ego. He is still gobsmacked by it all. Five performances at Worthy Farm in four years, and it still feels surreal to him. That’s the magic. He knows how rare this ride is, and he’s determined to enjoy every bit of it without forgetting how it began.

But music is just one part of what he brings to the world. Jamie’s activism is as loud as his chorus lines. He’s not content with writing songs that highlight problems, he wants to be part of the solution too. His work with Zoe’s Place is a perfect example. This is someone who doesn’t just turn up for the photo op, he shows up when it counts. His commitment to that baby hospice and the wider community says everything you need to know about his character. He sees his platform not as a prize, but a responsibility.

That sense of community runs deep in Liverpool. Jamie often says that growing up in the city, you learn to stand up for what matters. To push back when others sit down. To speak out when silence feels safer. And when he talks about Liverpool, it’s not with cliché or self-congratulation, it’s from lived experience. From knowing what it means to feel ignored, overlooked, and to keep fighting anyway.

He once said that if those in power won’t look after people, then the people will look after each other. That line stuck with me. It sums up the spirit I’ve always admired from afar. And Jamie carries that spirit into every gig, every interview, every chord.

Of course, Liverpool FC remains at the heart of his story. He talks about the club not just as a fan, but as someone woven into its soundtrack. He was there through the tougher years and now through the glory. Whether it’s watching the Klopp era unfold or now seeing Arne Slot deliver a title in his very first season, he lives every moment like so many of us who have grown up dreaming in red. That passion pours out when he speaks. There’s no pretence. Just pure, unfiltered love.

He laughs about thinking we could win the league again, but you can tell he means it. You can’t follow this club and not feel that eternal optimism. He says that’s the point of supporting Liverpool. You always believe, and even if you fall short, you pick yourself up and sing again. That’s what makes it special.

Jamie isn’t chasing fame. He’s not after flash headlines or big endorsements. If it comes, fine. But he’ll keep writing songs whether the venue holds 300 or 30,000. Because it’s not about size, it’s about connection. He once said the biggest buzz isn’t the charts, it’s the moment people sing his lyrics back to him. That’s what counts.

And that’s why he resonates. Because in an industry that often favours polish over purpose, Jamie offers something different. Something honest. Something that people recognise as real.

His music doesn’t just play on the radio. It lives in kitchens and pubs and supporters clubs across the country. It connects. Because Jamie Webster sings like he’s one of them. Because he is.

And as I sit here, reflecting on his fifth Glastonbury and everything he’s achieved, I’m filled with pride. Not just because he’s a Liverpool fan or because he once sang for us in Madrid, but because he’s doing it right. He’s staying true.

He is taking the soul of Liverpool and showing it to the world. And the world, finally, is listening.

Be sure to follow Jamie on all social media platforms and check out his website at www.jamiewebstermusic.com