826. ‘Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)’, by Baz Luhrmann

Ummmm…. 1999 might not be a top-tier year from a musical standpoint, but it’s certainly turning into one of my favourite years to write about…

Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen), by Baz Luhrmann (his 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 6th – 13th June 1999

We’ve pinged from pop-punk, to new wave, to bubblegum, to garage, with plenty of boyband pap in between, to this… This monologue on life from an Australian film director. It is a word-for-word recital of an imagined graduation speech, written by columnist Mary Schmich for the Chicago Tribune in 1997, that had gained fame through that most late-nineties of ways: as a viral email.

The voice on the record is Australian voice actor Lee Perry, who dispenses Schmich’s pearls of wisdom with a likeably dry authority. Some are practical (Floss! Stretch!), while some are fanciful (Maybe you’ll divorce at forty, Maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken at your 75th wedding anniversary…). Some are funny (Read the directions, Even if you don’t follow them…), and some are touching (Get to know your parents, You never know when they’ll be gone for good…) All of it is bookended by the one and only piece of advice that has been proven by scientists: Wear sunscreen!

The backing track is the choral version of a dance hit from 1991, which also lends the record its title, Rozalla’s ‘Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good)’, a song Luhrmann had previously used in ‘Romeo + Juliet’. It’s got a nice laid-back, trip-hop, surf-rock feel to it. In extended mixes, a new version of the chorus from the Rozalla original is included, although the single mix skips any singing and makes this a purely spoken-word #1, to rank alongside Telly Savalas and J.J. Barrie.

Although I have an aversion anything labelled as ‘self-help’, there is something appealing about this weird, post-modern single. It’s the sort of thing Andy Warhol might have released, had he had a pop music career. Like a lot of Lurhmann’s work, it’s not half as deep as it thinks it is. Some of the lyrics are downright trite, live laugh love level bullshit (Do one thing every day that scares you…), but there are a couple of verses that verge on the profound. My favourites are the lines on the power of youth in the first verse, and on nostalgia towards the end: Advice is a form of nostalgia, Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, And recycling it for more than it’s worth…

I think it also appeals because it’s now twenty-five years old, and is itself a reminder of a simpler time. A time when emails went viral, when newspapers would bother publishing a piece of whimsy like this, and when a pop record this innovative could make the top of the charts. Plus, spend five minutes scrolling through Instagram today, and you’ll be bombarded with an avalanche of crappy, pop-psychology memes with captions ten times more glib and cheesy than this record. (Oops, there’s me falling into nostalgia’s sneaky trap already…)

Baz Luhrmann may have had a far more prolific career as a director, but this isn’t the only time that he has had a say in the world of music. Tracks from the soundtracks of his movies, from ‘Romeo + Juliet’, to ‘Moulin Rouge’, to ‘Elvis’, have all made the upper reaches of the singles charts, including a soon to come number one.

As with some of our more left-field recent chart-toppers (Mr. Oizo and Spacedust spring immediately to mind) I’m more in the ‘Whyyyyy?’ than the ‘Yayyyyy!’ camp with this record, but it makes for a fun curio. And as a fair-skinned person living in a hot climate, I can attest: Trust him on the sunscreen!

The single mix:

The extended version, with a sung chorus:

367. ‘If’, by Telly Savalas

I’ve been looking forward to writing this post for days. Last time out I wrapped up my post on Steve Harley, and had a quick listen to what was coming next. A song I had never heard before: ‘If’. I started taking notes… And, my word. This is why I started this blog, to discover chat-topping moments such as this. This is amazing.

If, by Telly Savalas (his 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 2nd – 16th March 1975

Or wait. Is it actually not amazing? Is it actually awful? This record somehow manages to straddle the gaping chasm between ‘amazing’ and ‘awful’ with perfect poise. It is pure car crash music. We listen, we wonder, our eyebrows keep rising, but we don’t press ‘stop.’

The first note I made was that there is ‘a spoken word intro’. Which keeps going, on and on, deeper and deeper into the song. Telly Savalas talks. Or, rather, he purrs and caresses his way through the record. If a picture, Paints a thousand words, Then why can’t I paint you…? My second note reads: ‘Is he ever going to sing…?’ The answer to which is ‘no’. If a face could launch a thousand ships, Then where am I to go…?

There have been ‘spoken word’ number ones. Think Baz Luhrmann, The Streets… But I thought we’d be waiting a while yet for our first one. Here it is, though. Curling suggestively from the lips of James Bond’s arch-nemesis. When life is running dry.. You come and pour yourself… On me… he growls, and I almost spit out my coffee.

What am I listening to? Seriously? This defies serious analysis. Couple it with the videos I’ve attached below, in one of which Telly lights a cigarette before reciting his hit single, all the while being watched by a ginormous floating Barbie doll head. And… Is he wearing a glittering, gold undershirt?

How and why did this come about? Was it simply a cash-in on Savalas’s fame as TV detective Kojak? Was it for a bet? A joke? Or was it because Telly was one cool sonofabitch who people didn’t dare say ‘no’ to? I’d go with that. I think people bought this record simply because they were worried he’d come round their house and rough them up.

So ridiculous is this song, it takes me several listens before I can focus enough on the lyrics, and notice that the apocalypse has come. If the world should stop revolving, Spinning, Spinning slowly down to die… I’d spend the end with you… ‘If’ was originally recorded by Bread – making this the second Bread cover to top the charts in the space of a few months – and while I’m loathe to describe Savalas’s version as ‘better’, it is certainly more memorable.

This is not on Spotify (Come on Spotify!) But that means you have a chance to enjoy the many spectacular performances Telly Savalas made of his sole chart-topper, on YouTube. I’ve attached a couple below. (I don’t normally do this, but these videos are genuinely too good to miss.) Once one finished, YouTube auto-played Lee Marvin’s ‘Wand’rin’ Star’ – I had clearly triggered some gravel-voiced, middle-aged actor-slash-singer from the 1970s algorithm.

A couple of other things worth mentioning: Telly Savalas was fifty-three when this made #1, meaning he shoves the likes of Marvin, Frank Sinatra and Charles Aznavour aside to become the second oldest chart-topper, behind Louis Armstrong. And ‘If’ remains to this day the shortest-titled chart-topping single ever. Whatever it lacks in length, though, it more than makes up for in pure, animal magnetism. Telly Savalas, ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy…