766. ‘Love Won’t Wait’, by Gary Barlow

I was nonplussed when Gary Barlow launched his solo career with the dreary ballad ‘Forever Love’. Nonplussed, and bored. Was that it, from the man meant to be the next George Michael?

Love Won’t Wait, by Gary Barlow (his 2nd of three solo #1s)

1 week, from 4th – 11th May 1997

I was also surprised that I had no recollection of ever hearing what must have been a hugely anticipated record. Almost a year later, Barlow’s debut album was ready, and his second single was released ahead of it. ‘Love Won’t Wait’ also doesn’t ring a bell, but at least it’s relatively up-tempo. There’s a hint of disco in the beat, and the bridge has a soaring chord progression. This might be… fun?

And then we reach the chorus, and I do recognise this one! Love won’t wait, Forever and a day… It’s a pretty basic, soul-pop song with some nice seventies touches. One reviewer compared it to Cliff Richard’s output from that time, and now I can’t un-hear that. It also sounds like the sort of song Take That would have chucked out as the third or fourth single from one of their earlier albums. It’s no great shakes, is what I’m saying; but it’s much better than ‘Forever Love’.

It also has an interesting back-story. It was written by none other than Madonna, during sessions for her ‘Bedtime Stories’ album in 1994. I couldn’t imagine something this unremarkable coming from Madge, but someone’s uploaded the demo onto YouTube. It feels more Motown than disco, and even in its rough form it sounds better than Barlow’s version. That’s true star quality, I suppose.

And I also suppose we can claim this as a belated second ‘90s #1 for Madonna, her first since ‘Vogue’. She will be back soon, though, with a chart-topper under her own steam. Did anyone at the time imagine that we would have to wait so much longer for another Gary Barlow chart-topper, though? The album, ‘Open Road’, produced just one further Top 10 hit, while his second solo album in 1999 produced none. He won’t trouble the top spot for a decade, until Take That have their spectacular comeback, and won’t manage his final solo #1 for another fifteen years.

I have been, and probably still am, a bit harsh on Gary Barlow. Yes, he’s written some great pop songs. But though he’s finally achieved his goal, and ascended to the British pop pantheon, better late than never, he’s no Cliff, Elton, or George Michael. No Robbie Williams either, the man who will be taking the mantle of Britain’s Biggest Pop Star from under his former bandmate’s nose, very soon.

762. ‘Mama’ / ‘Who Do You Think You Are’, by The Spice Girls

Think ‘festive hits’, and your mind goes straight to Christmas, and then perhaps Halloween. Is there an Easter pop classic? Not that I can think of. What’s for certain is that the Spice Girl’s ‘Mama’ is the first, and only, number one single aimed at the Mother’s Day market.

Mama / Who Do You Think You Are, by The Spice Girls (their 4th of nine #1s)

3 weeks, from 9th – 30th March 1997

It’s a wonder why more acts haven’t tapped this under-used commercial seam… Or is it? Because ‘Mama’ pretty much ticks every box, sounding exactly how a pop song about how much we love our mothers should. ‘Mama’ killed the Mother’s Day hit off before it ever got going. It’s perfect.

But by perfect, I don’t mean it’s much good. It’s pleasant, with a nice minor-key melody, and is cleverly written as a letter of apology from a now adult child, for being such a little shit when they were growing up. I didn’t want to hear it then, But I’m not ashamed to say it now, Every little thing you said and did was right for me… And the Spices’ mums are in the video, holding pictures of the girls as kids, which is cute.

But by and large, it’s fairly bland. Plus, there are too many dated flourishes – scratchy fills between lines, and a strange organ riff – that distract from the actual song. It’s by far the weakest of their four singles so far. Luckily for us, ‘Mama’ is only half the main event here, and the record as a whole is redeemed by the other ‘A’-side.

‘Who Do You Think You Are’ is a fun slice of dance-pop: a tribute to the disco, funk and soul records of twenty years before. There’s a very funky bassline, and horns, and cheesy strings. There’s nothing particularly original in this pastiche, which means its only their second best song so far – still behind ‘Say You’ll Be There’ – but it’s become a wedding party staple. Plus it gave the world perhaps the ultimate Spice Girls image – Geri in her Union Jack dress, which she wore as the group performed the song at the 1997 Brit Awards.

‘Who Do You Think You Are’ was adopted as that year’s Comic Relief single, and a second video was made featuring The Sugar Lumps: a band comprised of French & Saunders, Kathy Burke, Llewella Gideon, and… Lulu. Who was a good sport because she’s actually, you know, a singer. This does mean, though, that she has been involved in the two biggest disco-pop hits of the nineties, after her feature on Take That’s ‘Relight My Fire’.

Charity records are at their best when they piggy-back on actual pop songs, and don’t inflict something ‘funny’ on the world in the name of a good cause. And this, with the Spice Girls at the height of their fame, probably made a lot more money than ‘The Stonk’. If I believed in such a thing as a ‘guilty pleasure’, then this would be one. Because who has not, at one point or another, belted out Mel C’s lines as the song closes? (She always got the best parts…)

The success of this pair of tunes confirmed a 100% chart-topping record for the Spices: four out of four. ‘2 Become 1’ had already lifted them into exalted company, as only the fifth act (and the first females) to reach #1 with their first three singles, behind luminaries such as Gerry & The Pacemakers, Frankie Goes to Hollywood… checks notes… Jive Bunny, and Robson & Jerome. And now this confirmed them as record breakers – chart-toppers with their first four, with many more to come.

749. ‘Say You’ll Be There’, by The Spice Girls

Forget ‘Wannabe’, and all its gimmicky, chanting, in your face-ness… This is the moment that the Spice Girls announced themselves as a genuine phenomenon.

Say You’ll Be There, by The Spice Girls (their 2nd of nine #1s)

2 weeks, from 20th October – 3rd November 1996

To me anyway, as this was the song that caught my ears and made me a fan at the time; its charms less obvious but running much deeper than its shouty predecessor. Should I go as far as to claim, less than four sentences into this post, that it is the Girls’ one true classic record?

It’s a pop song. Pure pop. Peak-nineties, sugar-filled, bubble-gum. The production dates it almost to the month, with the squelchy synths and the scratchy cuts. But it’s just hook, after hook, after hook. Within the first minute we’ve already gone through three levels of catchiness: Emma Bunton’s verse, Mel B’s pre-bridge, and Victoria on the bridge proper. And then there’s a timeless chorus.

But it doesn’t stop there – any downtime, any moment that could have been dead air is crammed with something ear-catching. Mel B’s little rap, the Yeahhh I want you, the Stevie Wonder harmonica solo… (Not actually by Stevie Wonder, but by Judd Lander, who also contributed the iconic intro on ‘Karma Chameleon’.) The best bit, though, is Mel C’s harmonies on the final chorus, in which she announces herself as The Spice Girl who could genuinely sing…

The lyrics are more female empowerment, with the girls this time setting the rules for a relationship: This time, You gotta take it easy, Throwin’ far too much emotion at me… I’m not sure if they’re making the imagined man swear his undying faithfulness, or just roping him in for a one-night stand, but it’s clear that they’re the bosses. Girl-power, indeed…

I’ve come out with some grand statements already, so here’s another for good measure: ‘Say You’ll Be There’, not ‘Wannabe’, set a pop-song template that will be followed for the next decade, or more. Listen to All Saints, S Club 7, Five, or Atomic Kitten when they come along, and you will hear elements of ‘Say You’ll Be There’s lightly-funky, mildly-soulful, gold-standard pop. Max Martin must have been taking notes too, as US pop sensations like Britney Spears and NSync will also borrow from the Spice’s sound.

I know that I’m prone to over-nostalgia when it comes to the Spice Girls, so I will assure readers that I won’t be so gushing over any of their remaining seven #1s. ‘Say You’ll Be There’ is not their only great record, but it is their best. One more thing to say before I finish – and this really puts me into ‘back in my day’ territory – but the campy, ninja-inspired video, in which the Girls are dressed very sexily (but not all that sluttily), feels a world away from modern pop videos. I won’t wade into whether or not this is a good thing – I’m not sure where I stand, to be honest, and I enjoy many current female stars who writhe around in next to nothing. I just thought it was worth noting…

744. ‘Flava’, by Peter Andre

Straight after the ‘90s most famous five-piece, the decade’s most famous six-pack arrives on the scene…

Flava, by Peter Andre (his 1st of three #1s)

1 week, from 8th – 15th September 1996

To be fair to this record, we have to try forget what Peter Andre is now – the butt of a million jokes, basically – and cast our minds back over a quarter of a century (gulp!) to when he was hot property. And if we are being fair, this record is a perfectly serviceable slice of mid-nineties dance/pop/R&B. Listening to it, you’d assume that Andre was American, especially when singing lines like Can’t bring myself to sleep, So I get the keys to my Jeep…

Except Mark Morrison recently proved that Brits (or British-Australians in Andre’s case) could do these sort of new-jack swing, R&B jams as well as, if not better than, the Americans. Not that ‘Flava’ is in the same street as ‘Return of the Mack’, but they do share the same postcode. And interestingly, Andre also sings in the chorus that the Mack’s back with the flava of the year… (Since writing my post on Mark Morrison, I’ve learned that ‘Mack’ is US slang for ‘a confident, successful man who has many sexual partners’, according to the OED, possibly stemming from the blaxploitation movie of the same name.)

The weakest link here is Peter Andre himself, and his reedy voice which never quite convinces that he is someone who parties all night, or who gets drunk as hell blazin’ up with the smoke, as the uncredited Cee raps in his verse. But this leads us on to what the legacy of ‘Flava’, an otherwise average, throwaway tune, is… The fact that it is a completely and utterly modern pop song.

There’s that beat that Max Martin would be rinsing the life out of by 1999, there’s a synth riff that I’m pretty sure was used by both the Backstreet Boys and 5ive (if not several others), and there’s a rent-a-rapper brought in for the middle eight. This is how pop music will sound for the next twenty-odd years, and here it first appears on top of the charts. With Peter Andre, musical trailblazer…

Or maybe it’s because I can remember 1996, and so my subconscious is forcing me to hear it as modern. It’s either that, or accept that I’m old… Anyway. I made a big play of Peter Andre’s six-pack in the intro, but in the ‘Flava’ video he keeps it fairly well hidden behind an array of baggy shirts. This was probably a reaction to the ‘Mysterious Girl’ video, which had made #2 earlier in the year and in the video for which he spent most of his time topless, under a waterfall. He clearly wanted to be known for his art, dammit, not his body! I won’t link to ‘Mysterious Girl’ – his one true classic – as that makes #1 eventually, under circumstances that will lead to Peter becoming the boob he is nowadays

743. ‘Wannabe’, by The Spice Girls

Ah, now this feels like a significant moment…

Wannabe, by The Spice Girls (their 1st of nine #1s)

7 weeks, from 21st July – 8th September 1996

And not just because it introduces us to a genuine musical phenomenon, who by certain metrics are the most successful chart act ever; but because the Spice Girls were my first modern pop obsession, the first act that I loved in real time.

Listening to ‘Wannabe’ now, I can confirm that I still know all the words, and that I can still picture the one-shot video frame by frame. I’m still pretty sure I know what zigazigah means… But can I now admit that this record isn’t… very… good?

Of course I can. Even aged eleven, I didn’t have that much time for ‘Wannabe’. Far greater pop songs were to be found on the Spice Girls’ debut album, including some of their upcoming #1s. The verses are slightly risqué nursery rhymes – If you want my future, Forget my past, If you wanna get with me, Better make it fast… – while the chorus is an aggressively nonsensical chant: I’ll tell what I want what I really, really want… So tell me what you want etc. etc. etc. It’s breakneck, the sudden changes in direction are dizzying, and it leaves you with a bit of a headache.

One thing remains iconic: the ‘rap’, in which all the Spices are introduced to us. Like the chorus it makes little to no sense, but it does include an all-time classic line: Easy V doesn’t come for free, She’s a real laydee… (at which point in the video, the soon to be Mrs Beckham is grinding on a priest’s lap). Otherwise, this song is best viewed as a statement of intent, a big slap around the face with a leopard-print handbag. Or perhaps it’s actually the Spice Girls’ manifesto, with all those lines about putting friendship first, and everything being on a girl’s terms. (This is before they were lumped with the slogan ‘Girl Power’.)

The Spice Girls probably wouldn’t have been as huge if they hadn’t released ‘Wannabe’ as their debut single (and it surely had to be released first, or not at all). It’s a marmite track, something the girls and their management acknowledged at the time, but they went with it and were rewarded for their decision, and then some. Number one in thirty-seven countries, and voted as the most recognisable pop song of the past sixty years…

‘Wannabe’ itself probably wouldn’t have been as big as it was without the chaotic video, in which the girls rampage through a posh soiree at the St. Pancras Hotel in London. Again, it’s the perfect introduction to the group, their friendship, their vibe. And it’s interesting how young the target audience clearly is: you have five youthful, attractive females, and yet there’s nothing very sexual going on, aside from a bit of zigazigah-ing. It feels more like a madcap kids’ TV show.

In fact, the helter-skelter, cut and paste feel of the song, and the zany anarchy of the video, is pushing me to call this… not ‘pop punk’, as that’s already taken… maybe ‘punk pop’? Cheap, cheerful, and far more to do with attitude than any sort of musical quality. It works for now, anyway. We’ll have plenty of time to further assess the Spice Girls over the coming months. I might even bring up my homemade Baby Spice badge, and the saucy graffiti I drew all over the CD sleeve of their album, at some point too…

737. ‘Return of the Mack’, by Mark Morrison

I did say, a post or two ago, that we were hitting a golden vein of chart-toppers. In fact, Take That’s feeble swansong aside, 1996 has already been a vast improvement on the year before, and we’re only in April…

Return of the Mack, by Mark Morrison (his 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 14th – 28th April 1996

‘Return of the Mack’ is completely different from our last number one – the Prodigy’s searing ‘Firestarter’ – but it’s every bit as catchy. It’s slick, very mid-nineties R&B; but I don’t mean slick in a boring way. More in a supremely confident, honeyed, knows exactly what it’s doing sort of way.

You could easily believe that this was being sung by a US soul superstar, a Boyz II Men-Bobby Brown hybrid of some sort, apart from one detail: it’s actually quite fun, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. A lot of US R&B at this time was spotlessly honed to the point of being completely transparent and unmemorable. We had a taster of it when Michael Jackson’s ‘You Are Not Alone’ was at #1, but thankfully this sound never dominated the British charts like it did the Billboard.

I assume that the ‘Mack’ in the chorus is supposed to be Mark Morrison himself, and this self-referencing adds another layer of braggadocio to what is already a swaggering tune. He’s back, feeling better than ever, and ready to lord it over his ex… So I’m back up in the game, Running things to keep my swing, Letting all the people know, That I’m back to run the show… It’s not harsh to suggest that Morrison has a unique singing voice – high-pitched and nasal – and the way he enunciates certain words, like ‘swing’, adds another hook to the record.

We’re getting deep into the pop stars of my childhood now, and two things I remember about Mark Morrison were his very cool slanted mohawk hairdo, and the fact that ‘Return of the Mack’ was about his release from jail. Except, my mind is playing tricks on me… Morrison did do jailtime, for the always inadvisable crime of trying to take a gun onto an aeroplane, but not until a year after ‘Return of the Mack’ made number one.

Although he was released from his three month stretch just as the song started to climb the US charts, eventually settling at an impressive #2, so I wasn’t completely wrong. The fact that this up-tempo R&B did so well in the land of down-tempo R&B suggests that even Americans might have been growing weary of all the syrupy ballads. It was the first of an impressive five Top 10 UK hits from the one album (though, in the States, Morrison remains a one-hit wonder).

Gun-toting on aircraft wasn’t Morrison’s only brush with the law, and he’s also been in trouble for affray, assault, driving without a licence, suspected kidnapping, and for paying a lookalike to do his community service. An eventful life, then, though he has remained active in the music industry throughout. More recently, he seems to have been rediscovered by modern rap and R&B stars, being sampled by Chris Brown and working with Post Malone.

724. ‘Never Forget’, by Take That

For many, Take That peaked with ‘Back for Good’, their sixth and best-loved number one single. Where to go from there, then? Back to decent-but-unremarkable pop, such as ‘Sure’? Or do they get Jim Steinman, a kids’ choir, and a sample from Verdi’s ‘Requiem’, and throw together an extravagantly OTT remake of a track from their most recent album?

Never Forget, by Take That (their 7th of twelve #1s)

3 weeks, from 30th July – 20th August 1995

I’m sure you already know, but it was the latter. Trumpets of the type usually reserved for announcing royalty herald this next chart-topper. Angelic children’s voices telling us that we’ve come so far, and we’ve reached so high… Depending how you score on the Barlow-tolerance meter, this is either further evidence that Take That were not just another boyband… Or the sound of them, and their songwriter-in-chief, disappearing up their collective arses.

When all the choirs and the Verdi are done, and the song slips into a bog-standard mid-nineties soul-pop beat, it’s a little disappointing. Much of this song’s near seven-minute runtime is fairly mundane, but nobody remembers that. They remember the soaring chorus (that takes well over two minutes to arrive) and the extended fade-out, rather than the dull verses.

It’s now a standard boyband cliché: the song about how fame hasn’t changed them, or how fame isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. This record might be where that trope stems from, as Howard Donald (on rare lead-vocal duty) announces weighty lyrics like We’ve had success, We’ve had good times, But remember this… while a slideshow of pictures from their childhoods plays in the video, interspersed with clips of them winning awards and generally being adored.

Again, if you have a cynical little mind (like I do) you could see this entire project as a massive humblebrag. My mind starts to wondering if Robbie left before or after ‘Never Forget’, as his voice is nowhere to be heard. But then he appears, eventually, to throw some ad-libs around in the long fade-out. Perhaps his diminished role is a clue as to why he did finally quit the band, post-recording but before ‘Never Forget’ was released. He’s had a fairly small role in all but one of their #1s (‘Everything Changes’), with nothing to suggest that he was going to be the huge solo star that he is.

I do like aspects of this single, just in case I’ve sounded too down on it. The sheer scale of it, the Jim Steinman-isation of it. The chorus is one of their very best, too. But by the six minute mark I’ve had my fill, and there’s a false ending that really tests the patience. Still, it was a huge hit – of course it was – and their seventh chart-topper in just two years. Yet it was the beginning of the end. Robbie had left, no further singles were released from the album, and there’s only a fairly limp Bee Gees cover to come before Britain’s biggest boyband are laid to rest. For a bit, anyway.

704. ‘Everything Changes’, by Take That

For their fourth #1 in nine months, Take That once again take turns at lead-vocal duty. We’ve had two Garys, one from Mark, and now a Robbie…

Everything Changes, by Take That (their 4th of twelve #1s)

2 weeks, from 3rd – 17th April 1994

Which gives a fairly throwaway pop song, a chart-topper more because of the band singing it than because of any innate quality the song might have, some significance. For here is the voice of the biggest British star of the coming decade… Though you might not have realised it at first, given the strange American accent he puts on for the album version’s intro…

On the single edit that bit is cut out, and we are rushed straight into another disco-tinged piece of retro-pop; the skinnier, sickly brother of ‘Relight My Fire’. I did wonder if ‘Everything Changes’ might have been a cover, as nobody under the age of sixty has ever used the term ‘taxicab’, but no – it’s a Gary Barlow (plus guests) writing credit. I guess they just needed the extra syllable to make it scan…

It’s perfectly serviceable pop. There’s nothing wrong with it (if we overlook the dated sax solo…) but neither is there much particularly memorable about it, apart perhaps from the for-ev-er… hook. There’s a reason why it was the fifth and final single from the band’s second album. There’s also a reason why it still made number one for a fortnight despite everyone already owning a copy of said album: Take That were bloody huge by this point.

While it might not have been his first lead vocals on a Take That single (I have little inclination to go back through their discography and check) it was definitely Robbie Williams’ first lead vocals on a #1. On their previous three, he very much took a back-seat. It felt strange to see him dancing gamely behind Barlow and Owen, knowing that he would go on to be bigger than any of them. But then, at the time, his departure was unexpected, and nobody would have bet on him having the success that he did.

Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. They’ve got a few more hits, and a few more chart-toppers, before he strikes out alone. And of the Take That #1s that have gone before, I’m starting to think I was a bit harsh on ‘Pray’… It’s head and shoulders above their other chart-toppers so far – as fun as ‘Relight My Fire’ was, and as strange as ‘Babe’ was. Quite possibly one of their very best…?

696. ‘Relight My Fire’, by Take That ft. Lulu

In their early years, in amongst the Hi-NRG pop and the ballads, Take That had made a habit of popping out covers of 1970s golden-oldies. A version of Tavares’s ‘It Only Takes a Minute’ had brought them to the Top 10 for the first time, while a pumped up take on Barry Manilow’s ‘Could It Be Magic’ gave them their first Top 5 hit.

Relight My Fire, by Take That (their 2nd of twelve #1s) ft. Lulu (her 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 3rd – 17th October 1993

‘Relight My Fire’, their second number one, was the pinnacle of their cover version days, and the final one before their ascent to superstardom. And it’s a perfectly fine piece of pop: complete cheese – though a nice camembert rather than plastic cheddar – and completely undeniable. It’s the ultimate soundtrack to Saturday evening family TV, to a kid’s birthday party at a Charlie Chalk’s, to a Butlin’s disco…

They don’t do anything clever with it, updating the disco beat and percussion for something more post-SAW, but otherwise keeping sensibly close to the Dan Hartman original. An original which hadn’t been a very big hit in the UK. I assumed it must have been a hit of some sort, as it just sounds so very ‘peak’ disco, but no. In the US, it had topped the Billboard Dance Chart for six weeks in late 1979; but in Britain people may not have been aware of it. (The female vocalist on the original was Loleatta Holloway, who we last heard being similarly uncredited on Black Box’s ‘Ride on Time’, while Hartman sadly died just a few months after this cover became a hit.)

I say Take That don’t do anything clever with their version of the tune, but actually… Roping in none other than Scottish pocket-rocket Lulu to belt out the Loleatta verse provided a clever bit of cross-generational appeal. And belt it out she does, as her rasping You gotta be strong enough to walk on through the night… is a clear highlight. She grasps with both hands this gold-plated chance at a chart comeback, also making sure she isn’t overshadowed by these young whippersnappers (though, amazingly, she was only forty-five when this made #1…)

It gave Lulu her first chart-topper a full twenty-nine years after her chart debut with ‘Shout’ – a record at the time. She had recently released her first album in eleven years, and this was her first Top 10 in almost twenty (not counting a re-release of ‘Shout’ in the ‘80s). But just as importantly as relaunching Lulu’s career, it announced to the world that Take That weren’t just teeny boppers aimed at twelve-year-olds. They were looking to become Britain’s foremost pop group, one that appealed to your mum, your granny, and your gay uncle (note Mark Owen’s crop top in the video, as well as Jason/Howard’s – who can tell them apart? – leather chaps…)

Come the end of the decade, all the boyband imitators that Take That had spawned would be trying the same thing. Off the top of my head, I can remember seventies covers from Boyzone, Westlife and 911 all doing very well in the charts, and I’m sure there were more. It’s songs like this which mean Take That are still filling stadiums across the country, thirty years on, with people of all ages looking for nothing more than a good night out. It’s easy to sniff (and sniff I do), but few do it better.

692. ‘Pray’, by Take That

Here we go then…

If we’re being reductionists, we can distil the entire 1990s down to four chart-topping acts. Oasis, of course, and Blur. The Spice Girls. And Take That. And of the four, it’s the boy band who make it to number one first. Can we finally declare that the nineties, after many a false start, begin now…?

Pray, by Take That (their 1st of twelve #1s)

4 weeks, from 11th July – 8th August 1993

This record actually sounds quite cool – a new-jack swing beat and some edgy horn samples – until the voice comes in. Gary Barlow. Was he ever cool? I’d assumed he must have been, because he was young and in a hot new boyband. But even here, in his prime, he looks like the annoyingly well-behaved cousin that your mum insists on comparing you to… Why can’t you start a hugely successful boyband like Gary…? I mean, who’s he fooling, in the video, writhing around on the beach with his shirt hanging open.

Anyway, this isn’t the time to launch head first into my feelings on Gary Barlow (we can save that for his ill-fated solo career). He may sing lead here, but there are four other boys involved. And, to be fair, they all do their share of topless writhing in the video: on the beach, in the surf, in a fountain, entwined in the fronds of a banyan tree. On the one hand it’s quite arty; on the other it’s completely gratuitous.

The song itself is a funny mix. It treads a similar path to the Gabrielle hit that came before it: the verses are slow, wordy, and strangely lacking in hooks, considering that this is a pop song aimed at teenage girls. Barlow has always had ambition, writing songs that go above and beyond what you’d expect from his genre. He’s also always had the annoying habit of pulling a great chorus out of his arse. Just in time it comes racing in… Before I even close my eyes… All I do each night is pray…

We’ve had a few American boybands warming up the number one slot before this, in the shape of NKOTB, Color Me Badd, and Boyz II Men. But in the UK at least, Take That are the boyband of the decade. Perhaps of all time (1 Direction might have something to say about that, but I can’t bring myself to check the actual sales figures…) Either way, we’re going to be hearing an awful – interpret that word however you wish – lot of them in the coming posts.

And although they are the boyband of the decade, ‘Pray’ isn’t one of their hits that has been played to death. Which means that it’s actually fine to hear this again, and to enjoy the moments that soar past the sludgy verses. Take That had had quite a slow rise to the top, compared to some other pop acts. Their first release, the Hi-NRG ‘Do What U Like’ made #82 in the summer of 1991, and they slowly shed the pop-dance, scored hits with covers of Tavares and Barry Manilow, and went a bit more sophisticated. Once ‘Pray’ made #1, the rest was history. Though few at the time could have imagined that their chart-topping career would span almost two decades…