Best of the Rest… World Cup Songs

You may or may not be aware that aside from pop music, the charts, and all things #1-spot related, my other area of deep geekery is football. And I love all footballing competitions, but none more than the World Cup. My party piece is being able to recite all the winners, runners-up, host cities and scores (half-time and full-time) of all the finals since the first tournament in 1930. Not that that has ever really got a party going, but you know what I mean…

Of course, this World Cup – hosted in the USA, Canada and Mexico – has proven itself to be very controversial. At least the most controversial World Cup since the last one, in Qatar. Which was the most controversial since the one before that, in Russia. What’s never been controversial are the songs which have charted off the back of World Cups. No. These songs have always been beacons of taste and decorum…

We’ve already met three World Cup related #1s – ‘Back Home’, ‘World in Motion’, and ‘3 Lions ’98’ – all extolling the virtues of the England national team. Which is something that I, as a Scot, have no problem with. At all. But there have been plenty of other World Cup adjacent hits over the years. Some of them even extolling the virtues of Scotland! Here, then, are the other Coupe du Monde-themed records to have graced the Top 5, without managing #1.

‘We Have a Dream’, by the Scotland World Cup Squad ’82 – reached #5 in 1982

In which the star of 1981’s ‘Gregory Girl’, John Gordon Sinclair, narrates a tale of falling asleep in front of the telly, and dreaming that Scotland win the World Cup, with him scoring the winning penalty kick. Then he wakes to find he’s not kicking the ball, he’s actually kicking his mother… He’s backed by the entire Scotland squad, ahead of their departure for Spain.

Before anyone accuses me of bias, this is far worse than any of England’s chart-topping efforts. It features bagpipes, because of course it does, and I’m not sure bagpipes have ever enhanced a piece of music. Scotland, as they always do, crashed out after the first group stage of that year’s tournament, pipped on goal difference by the Soviet Union.

‘Carnaval de Paris’, by Dario G – reached #5 in 1998

From the ridiculous, to the sublime. Ahead of the 1998 World Cup, English electronic group Dario G released this iconic track. It’s based on a folk song called ‘Oh, My Darling Clementine’, which had been used as a terrace chant in stadiums for several years.

For the tournament, the tune was updated with a gloriously ’90s euro-dance beat, featuring musical flourishes from different nations appearing at the tournament in France. A samba beat for Brazil, steel drums for Jamaica, a twangy Asian riff for Japan. And, contrary to what I claimed above, this is the only song ever to be enhanced by the introduction of (electronic) bagpipes, in the Scottish section.

This might be nostalgia talking, but listening to it now, the simplicity of the track is amazing. It’s become a World Cup anthem, still played to this day. Newe, ‘official’ World Cup songs are almost unlistenable: corporate soundboards featuring three or four singers you’ve never heard of from strategically selected countries. And Pitbull. They are played at the opening ceremonies and never listened to again. While the video here, featuring kids painted in the colours of each nation playing on a dirt pitch, is surprisingly touching. The World Cup may have been monetized and commercialized to unrecogniseable levels, yet it still somehow represents football in its purest form.

‘Ole Ola (Mulher Brasileira)’, by Rod Stewart & the Scottish World Cup Squad ’78 – reached #4 in 1978

Another attempt by the Scottish national side, but this one is better. Whether that’s due to it being upbeat, or to having an actual pop star doing the singing, or both these things, I don’t know. But it’s fun, silly, and catchy. It’s based on a samba-rock track, the title of which translates to ‘Brazilian Women’. Quite why we recorded a cover of a Brazilian classic for a World Cup in Argentina remains unclear…

Although perhaps that oversight sums up Scotland’s campaign at the 1978 World Cup, which is now regarded as one of the greatest acts of over-confidence in football history. Scotland left for Argentina as genuine contenders, in our own heads at least. Manager Ally MacLeod claimed that the day of the final would become known as National Ally Day, even inspiring another single – ‘Ally’s Tartan Army’ – which also made the Top 10 around the same time. Needless to say, Scotland crashed out at the first hurdle, and came home with tails very much between legs.

‘We’re on the Ball’, by Ant & Dec – reached #3 in 2002

The 2002 World Cup in South Korea and Japan tempted Britain’s favourite Geordie duo out of recording retirement. Ant and Dec recorded this piece of fluff, their first single in five years, and scored (pardon the pun) their biggest hit up to that point.

It’s not terrible… But it’s not particularly good either. It follows a very basic England World Cup song formula: a chanted chorus, snippets of commentary, players names in the lyrics, references to 1966… If you’re a listener from any other country, there is an automatic level of obnoxiousness to any song about the England football team that you have to battle through before you can appreciate it. (There is also an automatic level of schadenfreude to bask in when England fail to win each tournament. In 2002 it was Brazil in the quarters that ensured they were on thirty-six years of hurt, and counting.)

We’ll meet Ant and Dec on our regular countdown eventually, with their one hit that got even further than ‘We’re on the Ball’.

‘World at Your Feet’, by Embrace – reached #3 in 2006

By the 21st century, it was the height of uncool to have actual footballers singing on your World Cup song. Instead you had to get past-their-best Britpop bands like Embrace to sing inspirational lines such as With the world at your feet there’s no one you can’t beat…

After the brilliance of ‘World in Motion’, and even ‘Three Lions’, this is incredibly bland, indie rock by numbers. The video, equally milquetoast, in which the band lead a group of England fans around Wembley stadium, could double as a Vodafone advert. It ends with a whimper, much like England’s 2006 World Cup campaign, which ended in defeat on penalties to Portugal.

‘This Time We’ll Get It Right’, by the England World Cup Squad – reached #2 in 1982

Though any nostalgia for the days when a World Cup song involved players huddled around microphones, swaying awkwardly, arms around one another’s backs, should be extinguished by songs like ‘This Time We’ll Get It Right’.

It has the same plodding beat and similarly jaunty lyrics to 1970’s ‘Back Home’, as if popular music hadn’t moved by lightyears through glam, punk, disco or new wave in the intervening twelve years. Though in actual fact England hadn’t qualified for the 1974 or ’78 tournaments, and so maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that this sounds like a direct follow-up record.

Anyway, while most of the records so far have been the sort of songs that would have finished bottom of their groups with zero points, the next three are finalists in my eyes…

‘Nessun Dorma’, by Luciano Pavarotti – reached #2 in 1990

Perhaps tellingly, the three biggest (and best) non-chart-topping World Cup hits are all ‘unofficial’ anthems. No official FIFA records or awkward footballers in chunky headphones.

And most randomly of all, we have a big beast of Italian opera: Luciano Pavarotti himself. ‘Nessun Dorma’ originates from Puccini’s ‘Turandot’, which debuted in 1926, and was first recorded by Pavarotti in 1972. The BBC used it as the theme for their coverage of Italia ’90, and so popular was it that it made #2 on re-release. Pavarotti, José Carreras and Plácido Domingo – AKA The Three Tenors – performed a concert ahead of the final, a live recording of which went on to become the highest-selling classical album of all time.

I don’t speak Italian, and know little to nothing about opera, but when big Pav hits the high note at the end of ‘Nessun Dorma’ it’s hard not to be awe-struck. So synonymous with football did this aria for a time become that it was performed on the pitch ahead of the following three World Cup finals.

‘Vindaloo’, by Fat Les – reached #2 in 1998

Having already labelled England-supporting songs as ‘obnoxious’, ‘arrogant’ and ‘bone-headed’ (if I haven’t used those exact words then I’ve definitely been thinking them), we come to the most obnoxious, arrogant and bone-headed of them all. And yet, I love it. I always have, aged twelve when it was released, and listening to it now, aged forty.

Its main refrain is We’re Enger-land, We’re gonna score one more than you… but it’s meant as a piss-take of the sort of songs that claim that it’s ‘coming home’. Comedian Keith Allen said he chose ‘Vindaloo’ for the title as it was just the sort of curry that a ‘right-wing lout’ would order. (I’m sure that some of the record’s buyers completely missed the tongue-in-cheek-ness of it, but an awareness of subtetly and nuance is not what louts are known for.) Meanwhile the rest of the lyrics involve camp gems like Can I introduce you please, To a lump of cheddar cheese… or Me and me mum and me dad and me gran went off to Waterloo, Me and me mum and me dad and me gran and a bucket of vindaloo…

Fat Les were Blur bassist Alex James, artist Damien Hirst, and Keith Allen (who co-wrote and performed in the video for ‘World in Motion’). The video features various comedians and celebs, most prominently Paul Kaye in a spoof of the Verve’s ‘Bittersweet Symphony’, and is so late-nineties it hurts. Please England, I beg of you, for 2026 can you give ‘Vindaloo’ a moment of resurgence, rather than ‘Three bloody Lions’?

‘Wavin’ Flag’, by K’naan – reached #2 in 2010

The 2010 World Cup in South Africa is not fondly remembered for the quality of its football, as an impressively dull Spain 1-0ed their way to the title. But it is fondly remembered, by me at least, for producing two of the greatest World Cup songs of all time. Give the competition to Africa, and at least you know the music is going to be good!

FIFA made a decent decision for once too, in commisioning Shakira’s ‘Waka Waka’ as the official song of the tournament. That only made #21 in the UK, sadly, while the song that took off was the official Coca-Cola anthem: ‘Wavin’ Flag’ by Somali-Canadian singer K’naan. Okay, yes, big corporations are usually not a good thing for music, but the song had had a long journey to this point, having been a hit in Canada on its own, with lyrics about the experiences of Somali refugees, and then as a charity single following the 2010 Haiti earthquake. With more football-friendly lyrics, it eventually became a hit around the world.

It’s a great blend of African beats and a pop sensibility, Bruno Mars co-wrote and produced it, and it is not about England winning the trophy. The perfect way to wrap up this post. Which hopefully you enjoyed, even if you have no interest in the beautiful game. I’m off to set my alarm for whatever game kicks off at 3am tomorrow!

994. ‘Just Lose It’, by Eminem

That sound? Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ahrgh! Eminem dramatically falling from grace…

Just Lose It, by Eminem (his 5th of eleven #1s)

1 week, from 7th – 14th November 2004

After a trio of chart-toppers – ‘Stan’, ‘Without Me’ and ‘Lose Yourself’ – that not only hugely advanced the critical reputation and lyrical potential of hip-hop, but what pop music as a whole could be capable of, Slim Shady returns with an Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ahrgh!

It’s so bad it could be viewed as a parody, and Eminem such a contrarian that it could be seen as an attempt to destroy his own legacy. The fact that it interpolates aspects of both ‘Without Me’ and ‘Lose Yourself’ backs this up. Or, it might just mean that Eminem had run out of steam. Apparently at the time of recording he was taking thirty to forty Valium a day, which might go a long way to explaining this record’s grotesqueness.

In the previous trio of #1s Eminem was in turns scary, hilarious, and charismatic. On ‘Just Lose It’ he sounds bored, a deadpan delivery making the predictable and unfunny lines sound worse. The video doesn’t help either, with Slim farting, vomiting, and for some reason dressing as Madonna, in a bid to ramp up some shock value.

He also takes a pop at Michael Jackson, in the video, and in the song’s one good line. What else could I possibly do to make noise, I’ve done touched on everything but little boys…? It’s especially interesting to hear this today, with MJ back in the charts and apparently fully un-cancelled following his successful biopic. At the time Jackson was pretty pissed off with this record. A couple of years later he had bought most of Eminem’s back catalogue.

Other than gleefully annoying Jackson and his unhinged fanbase, this record is largely irredeemable. And has there been a more confronting hook in a chart-topper than those bloody Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ahrghs? They are genuinely jarring.

Regardless of quality, the lead single from a new Eminem album is always going to be a big deal. Straight in at number one. And the low sales climate will mean that Eminem soon benefits from a second, slightly random #1 too. Much better than this one, though, thank God.

Explicit version:

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993. ‘Wonderful’, by Ja Rule ft. R. Kelly & Ashanti

Yet another US-based R&B number one, to add to 2004’s increasingly long list…

Wonderful, by Ja Rule (his 1st and only #1) ft. R. Kelly (his 3rd and final #1) & Ashanti (her 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 31st October – 7th November 2004

Making this track even harder to enjoy, aside from its averageness, is the appearance of R Kelly for his final UK chart-topper. Your enjoyment of this song will depend on how well you can stomach Kels singing about how life is a pussy buffet

Though to give him his due, this feels like an R Kelly record rather than one led by Ja Rule, given that he gets around fifty percent of the airtime, including the chorus, which is the catchiest part of the song (I quite like the Morse Code-y, buzzing riff that holds it together too). Ja Rule contributes a couple of verses about gangstas and hos, and other rap cliches that make me roll my eyes. It’s always been a feature of the genre, that sort of aggrandisement, but one that started to dominate in the 21st century. Y’all bitches don’t know… Niggas can’t walk a mile in my shoes… That sort of thing.

I always quite liked Ja Rule, however. Usually in a supporting role, as on his two hits with J-Lo (‘Ain’t It Funny’ and ‘I’m Real’) and ‘Always on Time’ with Ashanti. Those songs felt much bigger, much more part of the fabric of the early ‘00s, than ‘Wonderful’. So in one sense it’s good that the dulcet tones of Ja Rule, and the much sweeter-voiced Ashanti, managed a British chart-topper. Just preferably not with this.

I’d even go so far as to claim that songs like this don’t belong on top of the UK singles charts. It’s not our music. It’s US cultural imperialism! Bring back Lonnie Donegan! Yes that sounds a bit Reform-ish, but – unlike other nationalities – we can be rude about Americans and not get into trouble. I do wonder which sections of the British public this record spoke to. Give me So Solid Crew over this: at least they spoke about the lives of British kids, and came from British council estates.

Of course, in late 2004, ‘Wonderful’ sold a fraction of what Ja Rule and Ashanti’s non chart-topping, earlier hits had sold. While it just about cleared the record set by ‘Call on Me’s final fortnight on top, the 23k copies it sold in its first week set its own record for the lowest selling record to debut at #1. Has anyone listened to this in twenty years? I doubt it. Not the most ‘Wonderful’ legacy to leave.

Censored and uncensored versions:

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992. ‘Radio’, by Robbie Williams

Turn-of-the-century Britain’s biggest pop star Robbie Williams scores his first #1 in almost three years. Right at the moment when he stopped chasing hits.

Radio, by Robbie Williams (his 6th of seven #1s)

1 week, from 10th – 17th October

He’s gone full-on new-wave electro with this clanking, blurping track. Vocally I get both Gary Numan, and Neil Hannon from the Divine Comedy. You’d probably struggle to identify this as Robbie Williams, until he reveals a slightly more trademark voice on the Jumping, Thumping, Shout out something… line.

It’s a strange record, and I don’t just mean strange sounding. I remember it catching people by surprise; and yet it’s hardly a very original song. It set the tone for Robbie as he moved further from away his imperial phase, releasing less successful but pretty cool songs like 2006’s ‘Rudebox’, and 2009’s ‘Bodies’. Plus, in 2004, such an eighties-chasing song was very zeitgeisty, as most of the era’s big rock bands were doing the same.

In fact, I’d say that this period is when Robbie cemented himself as a legendary pop star. Yes, Take That were huge, and he enjoyed massive hits from his first few solo albums, but a track like ‘Radio’ is really not what an ex-boyband star should be releasing. Cast your mind back two chart-toppers, to Brian McFadden’s fairly plodding ‘Real to Me’, to see the level of many ex-boybanders.

‘Real to Me’ was written by Guy Chambers, while ‘Radio’ was Robbie William’s first solo single not to be co-written with his regular partner. Lyrically it’s interesting (by that I mean ridiculous), and if that’s down to the departure of Chambers I don’t know. Although some of the lines are brilliant in their ridiculousness. He puts an ‘e’ in the Arsenal, A comb in my ‘fro, Divine retribution and away we go… being a particular favourite.

‘Radio’ was one of two new songs on Williams’ first greatest hits record, another way in which this was something of a line in the sand after his huge hit-making days. Though to claim that this was the end of him as a chart force is highly misguided, with eight further Top 10 hits to come before his final chart-topper in eight years’ time. I’d class this along with something like Kylie’s ‘Slow’, a song that only made #1 because of a huge star’s fanbase, but that made the charts a more interesting place for doing so.

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991. ‘Call on Me’, by Eric Prydz

Two sounds have dominated the charts of 2004: gloopy US R&B, and tacky dance records. Here we have the apogee of the latter genre.

Call on Me, by Eric Prydz (his 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, from 19th September – 10th October / 2 weeks, from 17th – 31st October 2004 (5 weeks total)

I’ve explained in earlier posts of what tacky dance consists. Basically it involves a sample from the ‘80s, and a trance-light beat. Basically, it’s basic. And catchy. And guaranteed to fill a provincial dancefloor. (That’s not me being snobby – I came of age on provincial dancefloors.)

‘Call on Me’ takes two lines from Steve Winwood’s 1982 #51 (and 1987 #19) hit ‘Valerie’, and adds a beat that alternately thumps then swirls. That’s about it. It does have a fill your ears, wall-of-sound quality to it, and I do remember it sounding very good in a dark and sweaty nightclub when you were five Apple VKs in. Earlier tacky dance chart-toppers, like ‘Take Me to the Clouds Above’ and ‘Lola’s Theme’, sound lightweight in comparison.

But like all songs of its ilk, it is repetitive, and ephemeral. Why was ‘Call on Me’ such a big hit, compared to the year’s other dance records? Why did it become, at the time, the second-longest running chart topper of the decade? I can’t hear any particular reason… Oh no, wait. Now I remember. The reason for this song’s success wasn’t just to do with the audio…

The video was set in a dance studio, and featured a bevy of beauties in skimpy swimwear doing a sexy aerobics routine (which must have chafed, looking back). A DVD single was available, that included a ‘late night’ version of the video. God knows what that involved. Opinion has been torn ever since. It won Best Video at a dance music awards, but was named 5th worst video of all time by NME. Eric Prydz himself refused to play the song for many years, apparently embarrassed by its success, and was once bottled on stage in Canada for not doing so. The final word on the video has to go to Tony Blair, Prime Minister: ‘The first time it came on, I nearly fell off my rowing machine’… These days, with all the filth we require at our digital fingertips, it feels quaint to think that randy teenage boys rushed in their droves to buy a DVD single. A relic of a simpler time.

Winwood’s ‘Valerie’ had been used in an earlier dance song by French duo Together (one of whom was Daft Punk’s Thomas Bangalter). They didn’t want to release it, and so Prydz – a Swedish DJ – recreated it with re-recorded vocals from Winwood himself. He scored his debut, and breakthrough, hit with it. While – correct me if I’m wrong, because he’s had a wide and varied career – I think this restored Steve Winwood to the UK Top 10 for the first time since his Spencer Davis Group and Traffic days. It’s bizarre to think that the last time the vocalist from ‘Call on Me’ was at #1, it was with the bluesy-garage rock of ‘Somebody Help Me’ in 1966.

Another reason for ‘Call on Me’s extended run at the top, other than the smut and its crowd-pleasing sound, was the lack of competition. When it returned to number one in October, it did so with the lowest sales ever recorded, scraping only 21,749 in its final week as a chart-topper. That’s very low. But sales will drop even lower in the next couple of years, before downloads finally fill the void.

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990. ‘Real to Me’, by Brian McFadden

In which former Westlifer Brian McFadden goes solo, with a classic ‘I’m not in a boyband any more’ record…

Real to Me, by Brian McFadden (his 1st and only solo #1)

1 week, from 12th – 19th September 2004

I must admit I have no recollection of 10th March 2004, the day that McFadden announced his departure from Westlife. I remember the hysteria around Take That splitting, and I know exactly where I was when I heard that Geri was leaving the Spice Girls. I even remember finding out that Zayn was leaving One Direction, though that was more to do with a class of twelve-year-old girls I was teaching at the time. Brian quitting Westlife, though? Nope. Were there headlines? Helplines? Probably not. Still, off he went, making his intentions clear by hiring Robbie Williams’ long-time songwriting partner, Guy Chambers.

‘Real to Me’ has a self-important title that doesn’t bode well, and opens with a piano line that suggests we’re in a for a tortured ballad; yet in all honesty isn’t as bad a record as I remembered/expected. It’s basically an upbeat Westlife song, with a vaguely Britpop-ish, ‘90s alt-rock production. And a guitar solo! Which is always welcome these days.

I have a harder time getting on board with the lyrics, although I do like the opening line: Bullshit dinners and the free champagne… It’s such a stroppy, ‘look at me I’m swearing’ protest against Louis Walsh, Westlife, and all the granny-baiting ballads. (And he chickened out by changing it to ‘showbiz dinners’ for the single release.) The rest of the song is a list of complaints about how life in a boyband, with all the hotels, aeroplanes and dressing rooms, isn’t as fun as it looks. Well, duh. I don’t doubt he had his demons, but ‘successful pop star complains about being a successful pop star’ is a tricky genre to make palatable. Maybe just save it for your therapist?

And then there’s the middle-eight, which almost obliterates any goodwill I have for this song. Brian lists all the things he plans to do now he’s broken free of the boyband rat race. Picnics in the garden… Drink some English tea, Then I raise up my finger, And watch football on TV… Sheesh.

It’s cruel (though perhaps accurate) to suggest that the bullshit dinners and free champagne wouldn’t be a problem Brian had to wrestle with for long in his post-Westlife career. Robbie Williams he was not. ‘Real to Me’ squeaked a week at #1 with one of the year’s lowest sales, and he managed two more Top 10s from his debut album. After that zilch, though he’s fared slightly better in his native Ireland. Since 2016 he has been a sometime member of Boyzlife, with Boyzone alum Keith Duffy. To his credit, McFadden has never rejoined his band, as so many boyband quitters eventually do, and hopefully he is enjoying a quiet life, and a peaceful level of anonymity.

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Cover Versions of #1s… Motown Special

For our next cover versions interlude, here are three covers of chart-topping hits with a little Motown flavouring.

Starting with possibly Motown’s biggest star, Stevie Wonder…

Wonder covered ‘We Can Work it Out’ for his 1971 album ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered’, and it made #13 on the Billboard 100 when released as a single. He was still only twenty-one, though already a full decade into his recording career. Of course, Stevie Wonder’s career would cross paths with a Beatle again in the eighties, with the not-quite-as-classic ‘Ebony and Ivory’ hitting #1. Wonder then performed for Paul McCartney’s Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award ceremony a few years later, singing this very tune.

Sonically, this is very early-seventies Stevie, with a brilliant fried-funk bassline, and a harmonica solo. It’s also a much more positive sounding record than the baroque pop original, with the soaring vocals and backing leaving us in no doubt that whatever is wrong will indeed be worked out.

And if Stevie Wonder is Motown’s biggest star, then Smokey Robinson can’t be far behind…

He scored a belated number one with the Miracles in 1970 with the classic ‘The Tears of a Clown’, which was also co-written by Wonder. A decade later, in that incredibly fertile post-punk/new-wave landscape, the Beat (or English Beat, or British Beat, depending on where you’re from) took this ska cover version to #6 in the opening weeks of the 1980s.

I wouldn’t count myself as the biggest fan of ska, but I am a fan of hearing great songs that work in very different arrangements, and the staccato riff, played like a circus theme in the original, sounds great in a two-tone style.

My third cover is bending the rules a little. Or completely…

For years I assumed the Foundations were a Motown act, or at the very least Americans from somewhere near Detroit. But of course they were British, and released their music on Pye Records. I’ll class them as honourary Motown stars, though, as hits like ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ and ‘Baby, Now That I’ve Found You’ are so very indebted to the Tamla sound.

Not that Alison Krauss’s bluegrass inflected version sounds anything like that. It is stripped back, richly smooth, almost haunting. It was recorded in 1995, and didn’t do much on the charts, but won a Grammy for Female Country Vocal Performance and has featured on Best Country Songs lists. Despite this, I like it because it’s not too country, if you know what I mean.

Hope you enjoyed these not too oft-heard cover versions of three sixties classics. Back to the regular countdown next, and we are only ten chart-toppers away from a very special anniversary!

989. ‘My Place’ / ‘Flap Your Wings’, by Nelly

2004 has been a very US-centric, hip-hop-&B sounding year on the British charts. An Usher double, the dreaded Frankee & Eamon, Mario Winans… Now here’s another slow-jam from Nelly.

My Place / Flap Your Wings, by Nelly (his 2nd of four #1s)

1 week, from 5th – 12th September 2004

This double-A passed me by at the time, despite being in a fairly avid chart-watching phase in my life. I was about to start my second year at university the week this was at #1, so maybe my mind was elsewhere. But listening to it now, I like it. I like the smooth old-school soul of ‘My Place’, and the futuristic beats on ‘Flap Your Wings’, and would label it as one of the better of this year’s American number ones.

‘My Place’ enjoys the benefit of having three different samples from the late-seventies and early-eighties – Labelle, DeBarge, and Teddy Pendergrass – all of which give it an upbeat, soulful, disco-tinged feel. It doesn’t grab me with a killer hook, but it is a perfectly pleasant way to spend four and a half minutes. At least it isn’t mopey and self-pitying, like many of the year’s other R&B hits, while the chorus is delivered very smoothly by a sadly uncredited Jaheim.

The beat and Nelly’s half-sung/half-rapped delivery are very similar to his first chart-topper, ‘Dilemma’, but not so similar as to make it feel like a cynical retread. And that was a gigantic hit, so it’s understandable that he was tempted to revisit it. Speaking of retreads…

‘Flap Your Wings’ meanwhile harks back to Nelly’s 2002 #3 hit ‘Hot in Herre’, not so much in the sound as in the tempo, the beat, and the meter of his delivery. And in the lyrics about sweat drippin’ all over your body… It’s not as catchy, or as memorable, as ‘Hot in Herre’, but there’s definitely something there in the repetitive beat and the saucy lyrics. At least I think Drop down and get your eagle on girl… must be somehow dirty.

It was produced by the Neptunes, with Pharrell Williams popping up for one line mid-song. This was the first UK #1 credit enjoyed by an act responsible for dictating how much of the decade’s hip-hop and R&B would sound, with Williams a decade away from the trio of million-selling hits he’d enjoy in 2013-14. However, I would say that this song also feels like a warm-up for their era-defining turn on Snoop Dogg’s ‘Drop It Like It’s Hot’, an even more minimalist hip-hop hit that would chart a few weeks later.

Both these tracks came from Nelly’s double-album ‘Sweat / Suit’ – I’ll leave it to you to guess which song is from which side – and had been released with ‘Flap Your Wings’ as the lead single a month earlier, making #88. Once the order was switched it entered at the top, and became the only truly solo #1 from Nelly’s four chart-toppers.

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988. ‘These Words’, by Natasha Bedingfield

Just when we thought the Bedingfield-era had drawn to a close with the last of Daniel’s three #1s, here comes little sister Natasha.

These Words, by Natasha Bedingfield (her 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 22nd August – 5th September 2004

Posh Girl Pop became a big thing in the mid-00s chart landscape – think Dido, Katie Melua, KT Tunstall, Sandie Thom – and Natasha Bedingfield is perhaps the first time we’ve met one of them on top of the charts. You know the type: hippy(ish), flowy skirts, a couple of Chinese tattoos, a copy of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, Manic Pixie Dream Girl energy…

I don’t hate ‘These Words’. It’s catchy and upbeat. It’s definitely more enjoyable than Daniel’s snoozy ballads, despite the jolly hockey sticks energy. (Natasha Bedingfield doesn’t so much sing the song as grab it by the shoulders and drag it to majorettes practice.) Has it ever featured in a rom-com? It must have.

But just when I think I might be sounding a little snide, a little bitchy, I actually listen to the lyrics of ‘These Words’. Threw some chords together, The combination DEF, It’s who I am , It’s what I do, And I was gonna lay it down for you… It’s what she is. It’s what she does. It’s just sooo Natasha. She claims she has ADD. She namechecks Byron, Shelly and Keats. She pronounces ‘hyperbole’ as ‘hyper-bowl’. What is she like? Kooky or what?

It doesn’t help that this record doesn’t quite know what it is, musically speaking. Is she singing or rapping? Is it pop, hip-hop, or R&B? Sometimes these genres can be ambiguous, and blending them can create great pop. But that’s not what happens here. It sounds choppy, clunky, and forced. And when Natasha started going on Christina Aguilera-esque runs in the middle-eight someone should have had a quiet word.

Would this have been a hit without big bro’s success? What’s the sibling version of nepotism? Fraternism…? This does mean that Daniel and Natasha are the only siblings to achieve separate solo #1s. There have been plenty of chart-topping brothers (the Davies and Gallaghers foremost among them), and Shane and Keavy Lynch made it with Boyzone and B*Witched respectively, but this technically makes the Bedingfields the most successful chart family…

On that note, we can properly draw the Bedingfield-era to a close. Happily so, though I appear to be in the minority when it comes to ‘These Words’. It was well-received at the time, and remains well-liked. I just don’t hear it. And don’t get me started on Natasha’s follow-up hit, the ‘millennial classic’ ‘Unwritten’. I really can’t stand that one, and don’t know why it seems to have taken on a life of its own in recent years.

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987. ‘Babycakes’, by 3 of a Kind

Though I’m not sure that anybody asked for it, UK garage is suddenly back on top of the charts…

Baby Cakes, by 3 Of A Kind (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 15th – 22nd August 2004

This was one of the dominant sounds in 2000-01, but having made it to 2004 I’ve just noticed how long it’s been since we had a garage chart-topper. Which probably means I haven’t missed it.

‘Baby Cakes’ has got all the classic 2-step garage touches: a staccato beat, flat singing, an MC rapping, an annoyingly repetitive hook, and – best of all – a very tacky rewinding sound effect. Although it’s a much cheesier, and lighter (and fluffier, get it…), record I can’t help thinking of So Solid Crew’s ‘21 Seconds’ in the I just want you to know-oh-oh refrain.

I detested this record at the time, in that way all eighteen year olds have very strong opinions on things that aren’t very important at all. I will say that my feelings for ‘Baby Cakes’ have softened in the intervening years, especially because I don’t think I’ve actually heard it once in that time. It’s catchy nonsense, really, one beat away from being a novelty record. Plus, with a 2:30 runtime it is short and – appropriately given the subject matter and the innuendo-laden, sexy bakers video – sweet.

It’s also a nice, momentary change of pace for 2004, a year that has been dominated by very American, and often very slushy, R&B ballads. A blast of a very British genre, and some very British accents.

3 of a Kind were a trio, two of whom met for the first time the day that they recorded ‘Baby Cakes’. If that doesn’t sound like it bodes well for long-term success, then you’d be right. They never even released a follow-up single, and remain gold-star one-hit wonders. Details on what the members are up to now appear hard to come by, though one of them seems to be working as a party planner, while another made a living from poker.

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