On the one hand, there’s nothing very quirky about Britain’s second biggest band scoring their second chart-topper, with the lead single from their highly anticipated fifth album. And yet… ‘Beetlebum’ isn’t Blur at their most accessible – a fuzzy, droning number about taking heroin. It would actually make a good pub quiz question: name Blur’s two UK number ones. Everyone remembers ‘Country House’ because of the hoo-haa around the Battle of Britpop. But I doubt many casual fans would name this one over ‘Parklife’, or ‘Song 2’.
At the time, ‘Beetlebum’ was seen as a disappointment by some, and it’s hard to imagine this now, as it effectively signalled the start of Blur MK II, the Blur we’ve known for the past two decades. But until now, most of their singles had been laddish and upbeat, delivered with a knowing wink. ‘Beetlebum’ is a much rawer beast, perhaps the first song to mark the comedown from Britpop’s highs.
Damon Albarn was at first reluctant to admit what the song was about, but lines like And when she lets me slip away… Nothing is wrong, I just slip away and I am gone… Plus a whole minute of He’s on, He’s on, He’s on it… give the game away pretty quickly. The song neither glamourises, nor demonises the drug; more gives the feel of what it is like to be under its influence. ‘Sleepy, and sexy’, according to Albarn.
I remember reading a line – though I don’t remember where – describing ‘Beetlebum’ as ‘bum Beatles’. Which is harsh, even if the comparisons to White Album/Abbey Road-era Beatles are obvious, especially in the chorus harmonies. Perhaps because of the Beatles’ influence, Noel Gallagher went on record naming this as the one Blur song he wishes he had written.
And I think nowadays, now that people have got over the disappointment of it not being ‘Girls and Boys Part II’, we can agree that ‘Beetlebum’ is a great song, and if you listen carefully you can hear that it’s as full of hooks as any of their other hits, culminating in one of the creepiest endings to a #1 single – a full minute’s worth of that droning riff, weird noises, effects and alarms, ending with one final click. It’s definitely worthy of being Blur’s ‘other’ chart-topper. Plus, I’ve always had a more personal soft spot for the record, as it was my 11th birthday number one.
They have no further chart-toppers to come, sadly. Follow-up ‘Song 2’, their biggest hit outside the UK, stalled somewhat appropriately at number two, and the lead single from their next album, ‘Tender’, will famously be held off the top by Britney Spears. Damon will be back, though, as the mastermind behind Gorillaz. Two #1s for the best Britpop band (something I’ve just decided this very second, but it feels right) is pretty paltry, so I’ll do a Blur ‘Best of the Rest’ sometime soon.
April 21st marks the 8th anniversary of Prince’s death. One of the most talented musicians of his generation; and one of the most cheated when it comes to UK #1s. Just the one, in fact: 1994’s ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’.
(We of course shouldn’t forget two very famous, and very good, songs written by Prince, that were chart-topping hits for Chaka Khan and Sinead O’Connor.)
So here are the Prince tunes that came closest: 8 records and 10 songs (thanks to two double-‘A’s) spread over quite a few decades… I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not as up on my Prince as I should be, so I’m not ranking them. We’ll just go by ascending chart position. Hopefully, I’ll learn something about the Purple One as we go…
‘Kiss’ (with the Revolution) – #6 in 1986
We start with the first Prince song I was ever aware of. And as an intro to the man, it ticks most of the right boxes… Outrageous funk, untamed horniness, a painfully high falsetto… check, check, check. But actually, the girl he’s looking for should be a blushing rose: no dirty talk, no flirting… You don’t have to watch ‘Dynasty’, To have an attitude… is the pick of the lines. Fun fact: the ‘ah-ah-ah’ effect is a compressed sample from Brenda Lee’s classic ‘Sweet Nothin’s’. A couple of years after the original, a remake by Art of Noise, fronted by Tom Jones, charted one place higher at #5. No comment…
‘Purple Rain’ (with the Revolution) – #6 in 2016
Title track from both an album and a movie, ‘Purple Rain’ is probably Prince’s signature tune. A gospel power-ballad, about the end of the world, it’s never really connected with me. I can respect it wholeheartedly; but I enjoy other Prince songs more. Originally written as a country song, and intended to be a duet with Stevie Nicks, ‘Purple Rain’ wouldn’t have made this list before Prince died, as it only made #8 originally. Upon his sudden death, this was understandably the song fans flocked to, making it re-chart and peak two places higher.
‘Controversy’ – reached #5 in 1993
Another song that peaked much later. Twelve years after it had failed to chart in the UK, ‘Controversy’ was re-released ahead of a Greatest Hits in 1993 and made #5. It’s tight and funky, with a disco beat, and lyrically lives up to its title. Am I black or white…? Prince asks… Am I straight or gay? In the seven-minute album version, he recites the Lord’s Prayer in full, presumably well aware that it would piss off a lot of people. Prince would spend the rest of his career playing up to similar controversy. For example, when I was at primary school, the one thing we all ‘knew’ about Prince was that he’d had two ribs removed in order to… how to put this… auto-fellate?
‘Sexy M.F.’ / ‘Strollin” (with the New Power Generation) – reached #4 in 1992
It took a while for the UK to catch up to Prince’s talents, but by the early nineties his singles were often charting higher in the UK than in the States. This coincided with what I see people now call Prince’s ‘gangsta period’. He raps most of this tune, classic lines like Can’t you see I’m harder than a man can get, I got wet dreams coming out of my ears… It’s a strangely uncommercial tune, all sharp horns and a monotonously funky beat, and that’s before we come to the x-rated title. So, in the UK it was twinned with ‘Strollin”, in the hope that radio would play that one. In the end, they just played an edit of ‘Sexy MF’ (You sexy mother-AOOW…!) ‘Strollin” is a much more jazzy, innocent number: Strollin’, strollin’, We can have fun just strollin’… and it can’t really compete with a sexy MF shakin their ass…
‘Gett Off’ (with the New Power Generation) – reached #4 in 1991
The crowning glory of Prince’s near-pornographic early nineties era. ‘Cream’, ‘Sexy MF’, and ‘Peach’ are all fun, but nothing matches the utter filth of ‘Gett Off’, from the ear-splitting shriek that kicks things off, through a tale of twenty-three positions in a one-night stand, to a brilliant flute-cum-guitar riff. Other highlights include a nod to that urban legend – Whatcha want to eat? “Ribs”, Ha, toy, I don’t serve ribs – and the crackly, funky James Brown tribute in the middle. If I were to rank these singles personally, then this one would be on top. Prince took himself seriously a lot of the time; but ‘Gett Off’ is a load of fun.
‘When Doves Cry’ – reached #4 in 1984
Early-nineties Prince might have been utter filth, but it’s not as if he was particularly pure and chaste before that… The video for ‘When Doves Cry’ caused consternation, setting up the controversy over the ‘Purple Rain’ album, and the introduction of ‘Parental Advisory’ stickers. The best single from the album, it was his breakthrough in the UK – only his second song to chart. It’s a deeply weird, deeply catchy song, that has no bass line.
‘Batdance’ – reached #2 in 1989
So, yep. Prince’s joint-second biggest hit in the UK is this. Recorded, quickly, for the soundtrack to the Michael Keaton ‘Batman’ reboot, ‘Batdance’ is a deeply, deeply strange song. If you can call it a song, which it isn’t in the traditional sense. There’s a lot going on: samples, audio from the movie, Prince’s raps, spoken asides, the classic Bat-maaaan… refrain all against a clanking, metallic beat… Then there’s a slow and funky middle-section that sounds like the needle has slipped on to a completely different song. Prince lovers may argue this an example of the scope of his talent, others might suggest it’s a classic example of over-egging the pudding. The guitar solo is wild, though.
‘1999’ / ‘Little Red Corvette’ – reached #2 in 1985
One of Prince’s more straight-forward pop moments, albeit one with a deeply cool synth-funk riff, and lyrics about dancing towards the apocalypse. ‘1999’ only made the Top 30 initially but made #2 when re-released in 1985. I wonder if ‘1999’ was ever Prince’s most popular hit, as it seems that the longer we get from the actual year in the title the more its fame is overshadowed by other Prince songs. It charted for a third time, making #10, in… 1999. For the ’85 re-release, it was paired with ‘Little Red Corvette’, which had been an even smaller hit originally. In it, Prince carries on the fine rock ‘n’ roll tradition of comparing beautiful women to cars (baby you’re much too fast…) It’s a fine song: a sort of smokey, disco-power ballad. Recorded in 1982, it’s the sound of the 1980s just starting to come into their own.
Aside from the music, there can be no doubt that Prince was one of, in not THE, ultimate rock star. Beautifully androgynous, deeply strange, myths and legends about him sprouting left, right and centre, and most importantly of all supremely talented. RIP.
In my last post I promised you something quirky. Is this quirky enough for you? Are you not quirked??
Your Woman, by White Town (his 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 19th – 26th January 1997
A gender-bending tale, centred around a trumpet sample from the 1930s, all written , recorded and produced by a fairly geeky looking chap in his bedroom. And catchy. I should also mention that it’s incredibly catchy.
It’s also very hard to describe. Is it dance, funk, indie, Britpop…? Is it lo-fi, hip-hop… boom bap?? (I have no idea what ‘boom bap’ is – Wikipedia suggested it, and I just liked the sound of it.) It’s at times creepy – the horn sample sounds like a haunted gramophone – but also quite funny – the middle eight with the plinky-plonky Game Boy sound effect is brilliant, my favourite part of the song, but also surely a musical piss-take.
Most of all it’s pretty subversive. Musically so, because number one singles aren’t meant to be recorded by nerds in their bedroom. And lyrically, because it sounds at first like our most explicitly gay chart-topper since ‘Relax’. A clipped, very English-sounding man delivering lines like: Well I guess what you say is true, I could never be the right kind of boy for you, I could never be your woman… The man behind it has said that it’s not explicitly queer though, more just about loving someone who isn’t right for you, when love and lust get mixed with your highbrow ideals…
The man behind White Town being Jyoti Mishra, born in India and raised in Derby, who had been in bands since the late 1980s and was well-known in underground scenes. ‘Your Woman’ was pushed heavily by Radio 1, leading to it entering the charts at the top, but Mishra struggled to follow it up. Having signed with EMI, he felt a loss of creative freedom, as well as frustration at his sudden fame. Frustrating for me is the fact that the follow-up to ‘Your Woman’ managed to scrape to #57, meaning that White Town isn’t strictly a one-hit wonder.
I mentioned above that the trumpet hook came from the ‘30s, more specifically ‘My Woman’, a 1932 hit written by Bing Crosby. (The music video nicely plays with the 1930s theme, aping the pratfalls and scene fades of old silent films.) The version sampled by Mishra is a different version, still from 1932, by Lew Stone & His Monseigneur Band. It’s been used since by rapper Naughty Boy and, probably most famously, by Dua Lipa on her 2020 song ‘Love Again’. It’s also been suggested that the original trumpet riff inspired one of the world’s most famous pieces of film score: the ‘Imperial March’ from Star Wars.
Jyoti Mishra and White Town were quickly dropped by EMI, and went back to recording independently, releasing their most recent album last year. For the 20th anniversary of ‘Your Woman’, he re-recorded the song using instruments commonly used in 1917. Because why not. Back in 1997, the tune was such a smash that it made its way onto ‘Now That’s What I Call Music 36’, which was the first edition of the series I ever bought, on cassette, probably with my 11th birthday money. And I’m not just inventing a cute ending for this post when I say that back then ‘White Town’ was my favourite track across the whole four sides… It really was.
1997, then. The late ’90s! And we get off to a banging start…
Professional Widow (It’s Got to Be Big), by Tori Amos (her 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 12th – 19th January 1997
‘Professional Widow’ was a track from singer-songwriter Tori Amos’s third studio album, ‘Boys for Pele’, which had made #2 exactly a year before this. It had been released as the album’s third single, making #20. It’s a woozy, rude, barroom stomper of a song, driven by a harpsichord, and Amos’s Kate Bush like vocals. It’s ear-catching, but it does nothing to prepare you for the remix that would eventually top the chart.
The word ‘remix’ doesn’t feel sufficient here. A remix is a song rearranged, extended, or stretched out over a new beat. This is a song completely reimagined, huge chunks chopped off it, with very little of the original remaining. One line is repeated over and over: Honey bring it close to my lips… while the other line – It’s gotta be big – must be somewhere in the original, even if I can’t quite hear it.
It’s amazing how Armand Van Helden, the DJ responsible, could hear the opening harpsichord riff and reimagine it as a modern disco bassline. Some remixes are fairly lazy, with few changes of any note; but not this. It almost samples the original, the riff and the two lines, and creates a completely different song. Van Helden is American, and the track is more house-influenced than our recent dance #1s, but there’s hints of the Prodigy and the Chemical Brothers in the big chunky beats, in the creepy background noises, and the sudden break halfway through.
The ‘Professional Widow’ of the title is apparently a snide reference to Courtney Love, something that Amos has neither confirmed nor outright denied. She had nothing to do with the remix – she was contractually obliged to approve them – but in interviews she has said she enjoys Van Helden’s version. It brought about the biggest hit of her long career, anyway – surpassing the #4 peak of the folksy ‘Cornflake Girl’ from 1994 – and is, to date, Amos’s last visit to the UK Top 10. Armand Van Helden was just getting started, and will go on to be one of the biggest dance producers of all time. He’ll be back at number one, fully credited, fairly soon.
We can’t finish without mentioning the misheard lyric – one of pop’s filthiest mondegreens – where It’s gotta be big becomes… Well, I won’t write it out. Safe to say, once you hear it you can’t unhear it. Misheard or not, it does fit in fairly well with the bawdy original.
You could say that this is a classic January #1 – a fairly random remix sneaking a week at the top in the post-Christmas lull. In fact, January 1997 is one of the best examples the phenomenon, with a run of fun and quirky one-weekers coming up that I’m looking forward to getting into.
After two pop bangers, introducing the world to the phenomenon that was Baby, Scary, Ginger, Posh, and Sporty, a ballad was needed.
2 Become 1, by The Spice Girls (their 3rd of nine #1s)
3 weeks, from 22nd December 1996 – 12th January 1997
It’s the first rule of nineties pop: any girl group, or boyband, worth their salt needs at least one ballad per year. Especially around Christmas time. And so The Spice Girls start their hattrick of festive chart-toppers with this slow and sultry number.
We’ve gone from friendship never ends on ‘Wannabe’, where boys came a strict second to girl power, to Tonight is the night, When two become one… here. But the ladies are still in control of all the love making. They need the love, they’re the ones who are back for more. It’s a bootie call, basically, two years before All Saints – supposedly the more streetwise girl group – had a hit by that name. The Girls even remind the fellow to rubber up: Be a little bit wiser baby, Put it on, Put it on…
A lot is made nowadays of how nobody realised what this song was about at the time– which is bollocks, frankly, because eleven-year-old me and my friends knew just what they were singing about, and accompanied the lyrics with some predictably childish hand gestures. I will say that, listening now, some of the lines are ropey, such as Any deal that we endeavour, Boys and girls feel good together… And in fact, for the single release, they changed the second half of that line to Love will bring us back together… as they were already aware of their gay fanbase, and wanted to be inclusive. It’s still a clunky line, though.
On the whole, though, it’s a fairly classy first attempt at a ballad, and was always going to be Christmas Number 1, even though they delayed its release so that the Dunblane tribute could have a week at the top. My first thought when I picture ‘2 Become 1’ is the video, with the girls wandering around a time-lapsed version of New York. There’s also the forty-five second fade-out with the violins, in which none of the girls feature, which I’ve always thought was a bold move for a pop single (though radio stations always had the option to cut it early, I suppose).
And so that was 1996. It took us a while to get through in the end, as the turnover of number ones increased. In all, there were eleven one-weekers – which I’m pretty sure is a record for one year– and eight of them came in the second half of the year. 1997 is similarly well spread out, and so we will waste no time in jumping straight into that year, next.
On Wednesday March 13th 1996, the deadliest mass-shooting in British history took place at Dunblane Primary School, near Stirling, Scotland. The murderer entered the school gym, in which a Primary One class were preparing for a PE lesson. He started shooting, and within four minutes had killed sixteen children, as well as their teacher, Gwen Mayor, injuring fifteen others. He then turned the gun on himself. The children who died were all aged between five and six years old.
Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door / Throw These Guns Away, by Dunblane
1 week, from 15th – 22nd December 1996
I sat looking at a blank screen for a good few minutes today, working out how best to start this post. In the end, it I decided it would be easier if I just explained what happened, the history behind this record, and the horrific tragedy that inspired it. There will be no real comment on, or critique of the song, in this post. I wasn’t even sure if I should bother listening to it, as the song is not the story here.
It is, of course, a cover of Bob Dylan’s 1973 hit, which had also charted at #2 for Guns ‘n’ Roses in 1992. Scottish musician Ted Christopher wrote a new verse, one of very few times that Dylan has allowed his lyrics to be altered. Lord these guns have caused too much pain, This town will never be the same… He was supported by Mark Knopfler on guitar (his only appearance on a #1), as well as a choir of children from Dunblane. Christopher also penned the flip-side of the disc, ‘Throw These Guns Away’, which incorporates ‘Auld Lang Syne’. The proceeds from the record’s sales went to various children’s charities.
Over the course of this blog, we’ve featured several songs recorded to commemorate tragedies. Famine in Ethiopia, the Zeebrugge ferry disaster, Hillsborough… All horrible events, marked by largely average songs. But this one… It’s little children murdered in cold blood. I grew up thirty miles from Dunblane, and can remember leaving school that day to news of the mass murder. I remember my mum in tears. Even now, as a teacher in my day job, I’m more emotional than I thought I would be writing this.
The Dunblane Massacre may have been the worst shooting in British history, but thankfully it is unlikely to ever be surpassed. In 1997, two Firearm Acts were passed by parliament, banning almost all privately owned handguns in the UK.
Thanks for reading. If you just stumbled across this blog then please believe that it’s not always like this! Up next, The Spice Girls will be lightening the mood with 1996’s Christmas number one.
A Different Beat, by Boyzone (their 2nd of six #1s)
1 week, from 8th – 15th December 1996
By going down a new-age, world music path, that is. There have been few more distinctive intros to number one singles than this one, with its thunderclaps and African chants. This could be a very interesting song, we think, and hope… and are then left disappointed when it slides into much more predictable, pre-Christmas saccharine
The lyrics are very much of the season: Let’s not neglect our race… Life on earth be one… We are all grains of sand, apparently. At least it’s not Ronan Keating on lead vocals this time, as Stephen Gately’s clear and gentle tones guide us through the verses. Groanin’ Ronan, as we must now and forever refer to him, does get to let rip on the middle eight. He’s seen the rain fall in Africa, and touched the snow in Alaska… And let’s not get into how he pronounces ‘Niagara’, just so the line scans.
It’s easy to be cynical about songs like this, especially coming from bands as lightweight as Boyzone. I salute the message, even if the video – in which the lads descend from the heavens to dance with African children – gives off an iffy, white-saviour message. I have a feeling they were taking their cue from ‘Earth Song’, last year’s messianic Christmas Number One; but neither the song, nor the video, can compete with Michael Jackson’s irrepressible bombast.
This was the only one of Boyzone’s six chart-toppers that the band had a hand in writing, and one of only two that weren’t cover versions. It was also produced, in part, by Trevor Horn of Buggles fame. So, there are much blander offerings to come from Boyzone. There is a decent song buried in here – the title-line hook is good – but it’s smothered in far too much boyband dressing. And it doesn’t build to the big finish that a song like this needs to succeed; it just fizzles out to a simple drumbeat.
I’d assume they were aiming for the festive top spot with this release. But that was never going to happen, what with a record with an even more important message coming up next, and the third single from a certain female five-piece hovering on the horizon.
After partying all night on ‘Flava’, Peter Andre aims for the flip-side of ‘90s R&B: a sickly slow-jam…
I Feel You, by Peter Andre (his 2nd of three #1s)
1 week, from 1st – 8th December 1996
I assumed that by late-1996, as we near my eleventh birthday, there wouldn’t be any number ones that I’d never heard before. But I reckoned against the fact that, as chart-topping turnover increases, there will be lots of one-week wonders to contend with. Like this.
‘I Feel You’ has some nice Boyz II Men style chord changes, a funky bassline and, if you squint your ears (you know what I mean…) you could just about mistake Andre for Michael Jackson. It also has, as most songs of this ilk do, some unintentionally stomach-turning lyrics: I’m thinking about the bedroom, baby, We’d be making love…Making love! As well as a very steamy video featuring, naturally, Andre’s six-pack as one of the main characters.
By and large, though, this song is dull. Spotify only hosts an extended five-minute mix, which is a slog when it comes to a song of this quality. And it’s sexiness is so forced, that anyone who isn’t Pepe Le Pew will be turned off. It’s custom made for horny teenagers to put on their make-out mixtapes, and they were presumably one of the song’s main customer bases in getting it to the top.
This should have been the last we hear from Peter Andre. His star shone brightly, but briefly: seven Top 10 hits between 1996 and 1998. Fate had different ideas, however. It does mean that, in seven years or so, he will reappear, and his best single will belatedly make #1… But at what cost?
Since this is looking like being a very short write-up, I’ll mention something that I’ve hinted at in earlier posts. Late-’96 is the moment that the singles chart became the chart I grew up with – not just in terms of the songs sounding like modern pop, as I’ve discussed before, but in the way they started entering at #1, and staying there for just seven days at a time. As I said above: ‘one-week wonders’, like this one, and the next song we’ll be featuring…
Post-recap, we delve into the next thirty. And it’s a very strong start to the next bunch: more headbanging nastiness from The Prodigy.
Breathe, by The Prodigy (their 2nd and final #1)
2 weeks, from 17th November – 1st December 1996
Is ‘Breathe’ better than ‘Firestarter’? Or is it just more of the same thing? Not that more of the same thing, when the thing in question is ‘Firestarter’, is a bad thing, but still… It’s definitely built around the same foundations: a Drum and Bass beat, a heavy riff, a distinctive sample (that sounds to me like someone throwing nunchuks around), and some pretty aggressive lyrics.
Come play my game… growls Keith Flint, like the villain in a particularly twisted fairy-tale. Inhale, Inhale, You’re the victim! responds rapper Maxim, who also gets the song’s best line: Psychosomatic! Addict! Insane! As with ‘Firestarter’, the lyrics are kept to a minimum, but it seems to be a panic attack set to some Big Beats. The video, featuring lots of creepy-crawlies, darkened rooms, and crazed gurning through holes in walls, certainly emphasises this.
I’d say that if it does pale in comparison with the Prodigy’s previous single, it’s because it lacks the shock factor. Would ‘Breathe’ have been the one that got the tabloids in a tizz, and be better remembered today, if it had come first? Or is it a shadow number-one, that wouldn’t have made it without the controversial predecessor? It’s certainly even heavier than ‘Firestarter’, and less commercial sounding, meaning that it really stands out as one of the angriest, most brutal chart-toppers the UK has ever had.
Again, the song was built around a couple of eclectic samples: a drum fill from Thin Lizzy, and ‘whiplash swords’ (AKA the nunchuks) from the Wu-Tang Clan. It was the 2nd single from the massive ‘Fat of the Land’ album, but it gets overshadowed by the songs released either side of it. Following this came the still-controversial ‘Smack My Bitch Up’, which some say glorified drug use and domestic violence.
But if ‘Breathe’ is overshadowed, then it’s to the song’s benefit. It remains fairly fresh, and still packs a big old punch through your headphones. And whether or not it is better or worse than ‘Firestarter’ is beside the point, really. I’m just glad the Prodigy have been around to add some nasty, punk energy to the top of the charts for 1996.
After this the band took a break for several years, before releasing their fourth album in 2004. They have been putting out new music fairly regularly ever since, though the only consistent member has been founder Keith Howlett, and they scored their most recent Top 10 hit in 2009. Keith Flint, who had struggled with depression and addiction over the years, was tragically found to have hanged himself in 2019.
A Happy Easter to all who celebrate it. I’m launching a new feature this Easter Sunday, something to enjoy while rendered immobile by one too many chocolate eggs… ‘Today’s Top 10’! My blog focuses very intently on every song that’s made #1 in the UK, and I often try to draw conclusions on how popular music has been shaped, and has shifted, over the years based on one tune alone. Which is actually quite limiting, because the singles charts have always been about more than just the number one. Over the 70-plus years of the singles chart, we’ve had a weekly Top 12, a Top 30, a Top 40, a Top 75, and now a Top 100.
So I want to, every so often, single out a random Top 10 from history, to look at in more detail. My version of ‘Pick of the Pops’, if you will. Cue the music….! Completely at random, using an online date generator, the first to come out the hat was 1970: the singles chart as it stood fifty-four years ago today. It features, inevitably, a #1 we’ve met before (plus one former #1), as well as songs by some of the biggest acts of all time. So let’s crack on…
#10 – ‘Don’t Cry Daddy’, by Elvis Presley (down 1 / 6 weeks on chart)
The early-seventies was a sort of musical wilderness: after the post-sixties comedown, a year or so out from the glam rock takeover of 1972-73. Speaking of musical wildernesses, here’s Elvis with a maudlin ballad about a break-up (or is it a mother’s death?) written from the POV of the couple’s daughter. Elvis croons the life out of it, and that voice could sell anything, but even he struggles to imbue lines like Daddy you’ve still got me and little Tommy, Together we’ll find a brand new mommy… with any sort of gravitas. He was still capable of greatness in the early seventies – in a few months he’d be back on top with one of his biggest hits, ‘The Wonder of You’ – but this is pretty saccharine.
#9 – ‘Everybody Get Together’, by The Dave Clark Five (down 1 / 5 weeks on chart)
The DC5 had scored their one and only #1, the stomping ‘Glad All Over’, more than six years earlier. So it is impressive that they were still hanging around the Top 10, when so many of their ’60s contemporaries had already faded away. This is a call-to-arms, a song with a message: Everybody get together, Try to love one another right now… Originally written as a folk song, and a hit in 1967 for the Youngbloods at the height of flower-power, The Dave Clark Five clearly felt that the sentiment was worth one more go. But there’s a droning, heavy feel to this version that feels weary, as if they’ve given up on the message even before the end of the song. It’s appropriately downbeat, perhaps, for the end of the sixties and the start of an uncertain new decade. Fitting too, as this was the Five’s final Top 10 hit. They would disband by the end of the year.
#8 – ‘Something’s Burning’, by Kenny Rogers & The First Edition (up 3 / 9 weeks on chart)
New to this week’s Top 10, and maintaining our run of hits by artists that we’ve already met in the #1 position, it’s Kenny Rogers and The First Edition with a sexy, sexy song. The verses are soft and slinky, lines like You lie in gentle sleep beside me, I hear your warm and rhythmic breathing… but it builds to a heated crescendo in the chorus. Kenny growls Here it comes, Can’t you feel it baby… and we know he’s not talking about the No. 42 bus. Lord have mercy…! It’s a world away from his much more gentle, much more ‘country’, solo hits like ‘Lucille’.
#7 – ‘Let It Be’, by The Beatles (down 3 / 4 weeks on chart)
Some of you may have heard this one before… The last single released before Paul McCartney’s departure heralded the end of history’s greatest group. There’s nothing new I can say about the record as a whole, so I’ll single out my two personal favourite moments. George Harrison’s snarling solo (especially on the album version) and the way Paul’s scouse accent sneaks through in the word ‘trouble’. Perhaps I’m just used to the streaming age, where songs hang around the charts for……ever, but for a song as legendary as ‘Let it Be’ not to make #1, and then be slipping down to #7 after just four weeks, seems surprising.
#6 – ‘That Same Old Feeling’, by Pickettywitch (down 1 / 6 weeks on chart)
I can’t say I’ve ever heard this one, though it had been as high as #5. It’s a nice enough, Motown-leaning tune done in a late-sixties, bubblegum style. Pickettywitch – I can’t decide if that’s a great or a terrible name – are another sign that though we may be in March of 1970, we’re still in the sixties going by much of this Top 10. Lead singer Polly Brown has a decent voice, reminding me of Diana Ross.
#5 – ‘Young, Gifted and Black’, by Bob & Marcia (up 1 / 4 weeks on chart)
I’ve made many a reference to the fact that reggae is the most indestructible of genres on the UK singles chart. Never the defining sound of an age, but always popping up when you least expect it. In 1970, it really was a new sound, Desmond Dekker having scored the first ‘official’ reggae #1 (if you ignore The Equals, and ‘Ob La Di…’) the year before. This is reggae + , with lots of strings, and rocking drums, but I’d say it still counts. More significant, though, are the lyrics: In the whole world I know, There’s a million boys and girls, That are young, gifted and black… And that’s a fact! Written and originally recorded by Nina Simone a few months earlier, right at the end of the decade that had brought the Civil Rights Movement to a head, for this to make the Top 10 in the UK feels very significant, and the second song in this rundown that could be described as a ‘rallying cry’.
#4 – ‘Wand’rin’ Star’, by Lee Marvin (down 2 / 9 weeks on chart)
A former number one – which I go into much more detail on here – that had kept ‘Let It Be’ from top spot a few weeks before. It was taken from the movie version of ‘Paint Your Wagon’, which was a box office flop. A bizarre #1 at the start of a decade full of bizarre #1s, Lee Marvin officially has the lowest voice ever heard on a chart-topping single (*disclaimer – may not be true*), and uses it brilliantly on this anti-social anthem: I never seen a sight that didn’t look better lookin’ back…
#3 – ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, by Andy Williams (non-mover / 4 weeks on chart)
Elvis makes a second appearance in the Top 10, in spirit at least, with Andy Williams’ belting cover of the King’s 1962 #1, ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’. If it was impressive that the DC5 were still having hits in 1970, then we should also give a nod to the fact that Williams debuted with ‘Butterfly’ – his sole chart-topper – in 1957. But then again, crooners like Williams are timeless, much less prey to shifting trends than pop groups. The video above, which I think comes from later in the decade, is a spectacular glimpse into ’70s variety shows: the multi-coloured steps, the giant ‘ANDY’, the cardigan…
#2 – ‘Knock, Knock Who’s There?’, by Mary Hopkin (up 5 / 2 weeks on chart)
Venture deep enough into a springtime chart, and there’s a good chance you’ll meet a Eurovision Song Contest entry. ‘Knock, Knock Who’s There?’ was the UK’s 1970 offering, finishing second on the night to Ireland’s Dana. This is very schmaltzy, very middle of the road – not a patch on Hopkin’s huge breakthrough #1 ‘Those Were the Days’ – but it’s a darn sight better than the horrible ‘All Kinds of Everything’. This was a big departure from Hopkin’s usual, folky offerings, and she wasn’t a fan: “I was so embarrassed about it. Standing on stage singing a song you hate is just awful.” Hate it though she might have, it brought about her final Top 10 hit.
#1 – ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’, Simon & Garfunkel – (non-mover / 7 weeks on chart)
In the middle of a three-week run at the top, ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ was just the 3rd number one of the 1970s, but is probably one of the decade’s biggest and best-loved songs. Simon wrote it, while Garfunkel gave one of the great vocal performances (something that apparently irks Paul to this day…) You can read my original post here.
In a way, ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ is the perfect number one for this chart. March 1970 wasn’t the sixties, but it’s wasn’t the seventies as we remember it either. ‘Bridge…’ is timeless, not beholden to many of the styles of the time, and could have been a #1 at most points in chart history. Elsewhere in the Top 10, we tick a few common chart boxes: soundtrack hits, Eurovision, Elvis, The Beatles… Maybe the two most relevant songs, though, are ‘Everybody Get Together’, and ‘Young, Gifted and Black’, which represent the social and civil rights movements that had defined the latter part of the 1960s. The hippy dream may have died, Dr King may have been killed, but hope springs eternal…
That was fun, and hopefully worthwhile. I’ll do another one sometime, as a break from our normal proceedings. Next up it’s back to 1996…
The UK Number Ones Blog 