Here we go, then… Our most successful boyband’s reign of terror begins…
Swear It Again, by Westlife (their 1st of fourteen #1s)
2 weeks, from 25th April – 9th May 1999
As tempting as it is to go in two-footed on Westlife from the start, they do have a hell of a lot of number ones to get through (only Elvis and The Beatles have more). So can I imagine a world where ‘Swear it Again’, their debut single, was their only hit, and find something good, or at least interesting, to say about it?
I’ll give the verses the credit of having a hint of ‘80s Elton John about them, in the confident piano lines. Beyond that though, it’s a struggle. This isn’t just Westlife’s debut single, it’s their Manifesto. The template through which they’ll be dominating the charts for much of the next decade. It’s bland, it’s MOR. It’s soppy. It’s crap.
This sounds so much like every other song they’ll release between now and 2006, that as I listen I can clearly picture them rising from their stools, through clouds of dry ice, for the final chorus. There is no key change, however, no matter how much one is teased. Perhaps we’ll find that a Westlife trademark key-change wasn’t as common as we think? Maybe they actually did very few, like how Sherlock Holmes hardly ever said ‘elementary’…? The truth will be revealed, slowly, one syrupy ballad after another.
Westlife are usually seen as taking the baton from Boyzone as Britain’s favourite Irish boyband. They shared a manager, Louis Walsh, and Ronan Keating was also involved in their early days (they had supported Boyzone and the Backstreet Boys on tour before releasing any music). It wasn’t a clean transfer of power, though, as Keating’s gang still have one more #1 to come. Westlife had formed a couple of years earlier, as a six-piece, but were rejected by Simon Cowell, who claimed that they were “the ugliest boyband I have ever seen in my life”. Three members were promptly sacked – the ugly ones, we can presume – two new ones hired, and off they went.
Off to score fourteen (yes, one four) number ones in seven years. Interestingly, though, ‘Swear It Again’ did something that only four of their chart-toppers managed: more than a single week at number one. Their fourteen number ones will amount only to twenty weeks in total at the top, a phenomenon that we can perhaps explore in more detail in a later Westlife post, once we’ve lost count of the key-changes, and run out of synonyms for ‘bland’.
If ‘Levi’s #1s’ is a niche chart-topping genre – see Mr. Oizo last time out – then this next chart-topper falls into an even rarer category…
Perfect Moment, by Martine McCutcheon (her 1st and only #1)
2 weeks, from 11th – 25th April 1999
Not just ‘TV stars’ (alongside the likes of Telly Savalas and David Soul) or ‘Soap Stars’ (alongside Kylie and Jason), both of which would be niche enough. No, after Nick Berry, this is just the second ever Eastenders number one.
And if this were a competition, then Martine McCutcheon wins the Battle of the Eastenders Pop Stars hands down. That is more to do with how crap Nick Berry’s effort was than any particular strengths that this record has, but still. A win’s a win. And ‘Perfect Moment’ starts off interestingly enough, with a grandiosely old-fashioned intro, and some early-eighties, Ultravoxy synths.
Yes, it’s a gloopy ballad. But it sounds quite out of place against the late-nineties pop landscape. This sounds like it could have replaced Nick Berry at the top back in 1986. I don’t want to use the word ‘experimental’ on a record as average as this, but at the same time McCutcheon’s producers were clearly trying a couple of things out.
By the second verse, though, order has been restored. That pre-set late-nineties drumbeat has kicked in, while the middle-eight (And if tomorrow brings a lonely day…) sets a template to be followed by every X-Factor winner’s single from here to eternity. Blandness wins, but for a minute or so something a little more interesting was threatened.
And what of Martine McCutcheon, AKA Tiffany Mitchell, who a few months earlier had been mown down in Albert Square by Frank Butcher’s car? She has a pretty decent voice here, on her solo debut, and by the end is trying her best to compete with the big ‘90s divas. She is ultimately, though, no Whitney Houston. She had made earlier attempts at a pop career, as part of failed girl-group Milan in at the start of the decade, and on a minor dance hit not long after she had joined ‘EastEnders.
‘Perfect Moment’ had originally been recorded by Polish singer Edyta Górniak in 1997, and this cover set McCutcheon up for a couple of years of chart success. Colour me surprised to discover that she managed four more Top 10 hits! None of which I have any memory of… She has gone on to acting success on stage and screen – perhaps most famous to an international audience as Natalie in ‘Love Actually’ – while the fact that she was killed off and unable to return to EastEnders has apparently always rankled with her.
I’ve had this post planned for a long, long time, but had to hold off in the knowledge that Blondie would have the glorious, belated coda to their chart-topping career that was ‘Maria’. Now that their 6th and final number one has been and gone, I can rank the new-wave icons’ eleven other UK Top 40 hits. Hurrah!
Restricting myself to Top 40 hits means that we can’t include that run of glorious early singles – ‘X Offender’, ‘In the Flesh’, ‘Rip Her to Shreds’ – all of which would have come close to topping this list, but which never made the hit parade. It also excludes ‘One Way or Another’, which was never a single and only charted at #98 after One Direction covered it in 2013. On with the countdown!
11. ‘Nothing Is Real But the Girl’ – #26 in 1999
A much more down-to-earth follow-up to the heavenly ‘Maria’. It’s got a good driving beat, Harry on top vocal form, and some quality drum fills. Blondie 101. Plus, as others have pointed out, it shares a bassline with ‘Suzy and Jeffrey’, the great B-side to ‘The Tide Is High’. Still, somehow it doesn’t equal the sum of its parts, and leaves me fairly cold.
10. ‘Island of Lost Souls’ – #11 in 1982
It’s surprising just how quickly Blondie’s chart form fell off a cliff. A year and a half after their ‘final’ number one, the lead single from 6th album ‘The Hunter’ failed to make the Top 10. ‘Island of Lost Souls’ is a more extreme version of ‘The Tide Is High’s reggae leanings, going full-on calypso. I don’t think it’s a particularly bad song, I’m just not sure why Blondie felt the need to record it and/or release it as a single. Still, the line Hey buccaneer, Can you help me get my truck in gear? is enough to prevent this from ranking last.
9. ‘Rapture’ – #5 in 1981
On the one hand, I respect what ‘Rapture’ (RAP-ture, get it?) does. It’s brave, it’s boundary pushing, it’s disco, new wave and hip hop all in one. Plus, it contains lines about men from Mars shooting you dead and eating your head, before ending with a cool guitar-slash-saxophone solo. It was also the first US #1 to feature rapped lyrics. And yet… I’ve never particularly liked it. Sorry.
8. ‘War Child’ – #39 in 1982
‘The Hunter’ is a pretty poor album, from a band that just a few years earlier were churning out classic LPs by the year. But it has two good songs – the Bond-theme that never was, ‘For Your Eyes Only’ – and this, the second single (Blondie’s last for seventeen years). It’s a counterfeit ‘Call Me’, with a propulsive electro beat, some wild saxophoning, and lyrics about Cambodian child soldiers. It deserved better than a #39 peak.
7. ‘(I’m Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear’ – #10 in 1978
This bit of power-pop showed a softer side to the band’s earlier output, and earned them their second UK Top 10. It could almost be classed as a novelty, in the way it describes being in love with a mind reader, and pokes fun at psychic frequencies and outer entities, though Harry delivers it all in an cooly earnest deadpan. At the very least, someone was taking the piss when placing those brackets in the title…
6. ‘Good Boys’ – #12 in 2003
I’ve seen ‘Good Boys’ described as the great, lost Blondie single. Which feels strange to me, as it’s been one of my favourites for years. But then maybe it was a case of right place right time, as I was at the height of one of my chart-watching phases, and seem to be one of the few who noticed it making #12 in August 2003. A bit poppier, and funkier, than ‘Maria’ a few years earlier, Harry had another crack at rapping on this one, and the band had to acknowledge Queen in the credits after borrowing heavily from ‘We Will Rock You’.
5. ‘Union City Blue’ – #13 in 1979
It’s not up for debate that Blondie were a pretty freakin’ cool band, but have they ever looked cooler than in the video to ‘Union City Blue’, all suited and booted (orange jump suit-booted in Debbie H’s case) on a dry dock? They do their best to spoil all this in the second half of the video, cutting some goofy shapes once night has fallen, but let’s pretend that never happens. This song just sounds so epic, from the cascading intro, to Clem Burke’s majestic drumming, to that revving bass in the break before the final verse.
4. ‘Hanging on the Telephone’ – #5 in 1978
Blondie had a knack for covering the right songs, songs that hadn’t been big hits in the first place and that people would assume were Blondie songs all along… (see the next song in this list for another great example). ‘Hanging on the Telephone’ had been recorded by the Nerves in 1976, and Blondie’s cover is pretty faithful, just a bit tighter, a bit sharper, and a bit better. I can even pinpoint the very moment that this transcends its original version: the extra throaty woahwoahwoah that Harry adds right at the end. It’s also another fine example of what I’ll call Blondie’s knack for stalker-chic – see also ‘X Offender’ and the song at #2 in this list – songs with creepy lyrics that they get away with because Debbie Harry was such a doll.
3. ‘Denis’ – #2 in 1978
Speaking of having a knack for covering the right songs… Though Blondie didn’t so much as cover ‘Denis’ as kidnap it, brainwash it, and convince it that it was their song all along. The original, ‘Denise’, by the excellently named Randy & the Rainbows, was an average slice of mid-tempo doo-wop. In Blondie’s hands it became both a razor-sharp pop tune, and a post-punk classic with just enough cooly detached irony. As well as their first big hit.
2. ‘Picture This’ – #12 in 1978
Blondie seemed to lose some momentum with the release of the lead single from their third album, ‘Parallel Lines’. Of course, that album would go on to do alright for itself, and the subsequent hits would overshadow this brilliant new-wave single. As mentioned, Blondie did a good line in oldies covers, but they also did a great line in making new songs with all the hallmarks of the classics. ‘Picture This’ has hooks galore, and could have been a sixties girl-group hit. Though not many sixties girl-groups would have gotten away with lines like: I will give you my finest hour, The one I spent watching you shower…
1. ‘Dreaming’ – #2 in 1979
Blondie are not a band poorly served by their number one singles. They released some outright, all-time classics, and most of them got to the top of the charts. But if there was one single of theirs that deserved to join the ranks of ‘Heart of Glass’, ‘Atomic’, or ‘Call Me’, then it’s ‘Dreaming’. Like ‘Picture This’, it takes some classic pop group hooks, and melodies, (it’s apparently based on ‘Dancing Queen’, though I don’t hear it myself), and beefs them up into something wonderful. Clem Burke’s drumming is a stand out on this record, though he claims he was over-egging his drum fills, assuming that producer Mike Chapman wouldn’t use that take.
I’ve noticed that I quoted quite a few of the lyrics from the past ten songs, not realising just how epic, and often hilarious, Blondie’s lyrics were. To the ‘hilarious’ pile I’ll add Harry’s opening couplet: When I met you in the restaurant, You could tell I was no debutante… And to the ‘epic’ pile I’ll nominate a sentiment we can all agree with: Dreaming, Dreaming is free…
Thanks for reading, and do let me know if you agree with my ranking in the comments.
Before going, I must mention that over the weekend I wrote a guest blog post for Keith AKA the Nostalgic Italian, all about our memories of the toys that we grew up with. I managed to stay on-brand and tied my post into a number one single. Check it out here!
…please don’t adjust your dial. I did earlier bill 1999 as the year of the random dance hit, and dance hits don’t come much more random than this.
Yes, it’s repetitive, but when the song is called ‘Flat Beat’ I think that’s largely the point. And yes, some of the myriad effects, pulses and throbs that make up this record are odd. But there’s something hypnotising in this track’s minimalism, and in that strange, vibrating bass riff that you can almost feel pressing against your eardrums (this is a chart-topper best appreciated through headphones).
Every thirty seconds or so, as you begin to tire of the simple beat, another little element is added, just in time. I’m imagining Mr. Oizo taking a walk through his local rainforest, and using some of the stranger sounding animal calls to decorate this tune. The intro features a woman claiming that Quentin (Mr. Oizo’s real name) is a ‘real jerkie’. The album version ends on what sounds a lot like someone taking a piss. I can’t say I truly love ‘Flat Beat’, but I do enjoy how bloody weird it is.
‘Flat Beat’ was helped to the top of the charts by Flat Eric, a yellow puppet made by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop. In the video he runs a business, answering phones and smoking frankfurters. But it was his appearance in a series of Levi’s adverts that made him famous, and that necessitated Mr. Oizo make a tune to go with them.
This is the latest – the seventh – and I believe final ‘Levi’s’ chart-topper. Since the mid-eighties we’ve had the jeans makers to thank for curios like ‘The Joker’, ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go’, and Stiltskin’s ‘Inside’ making number one. Like its predecessors, ‘Flat Beat’ would have been nowhere near #1 without the ad campaign, but I will say that all of the Levi’s-resurrected chart-toppers have been worthwhile in their own way.
Mr. Oizo AKA Quentin Dupieux is a French DJ and filmmaker (‘oiseau’ being French for ‘bird’). ‘Flat Beat’ was a bonus track on his first album, and he’s had a few others which have been minor hits in his homeland. In the UK he has gold-star, purest one-hit wonder status, with nothing else even grazing the lower reaches of the charts.
It’s also worth noticing that, spoken intro aside, this is a purely instrumental track. Wikipedia lists it as the 25th instrumental number one, though they count ‘Hoots Mon’, and ‘Block Rockin’ Beats’ in that list, which seems generous. What’s indisputable is that there have been precious few since the genre’s heyday in the fifties and early-sixties – this is only the ‘90s second instrumental after ‘Doop’, while there were zero in the ‘80s – and that there are precious few more to come.
Storms gather, thunderclouds ripen, droplets fall like one of those ‘soft noise for sleep’ playlists… B*Witched are getting moody.
Blame It on the Weatherman, by B*Witched (their 4th and final #1)
1 week, from 21st – 28th March 1999
Before we get stuck into the meat of this next number one, can I ponder for a second what the most used non-musical sound effect is in pop music? I’m sure it must either be rainfall or revving motorbikes, but any other suggestions are welcome. The storms here are soon replaced by an acoustic guitar, and not for the first time I’m getting an unexpected Beatles flashback from a B*Witched number one. This time it’s ‘In My Life’ buried within the opening chords…
In fact this whole song is a game of spot-the-influences. The verses remind me of other late-90s indie-pop acts like Tin Tin Out and Catatonia, and most of all Natalie Imbruglia’s ‘Torn’. Then the new-age, Enya touches from ‘To You I Belong’ return for the chorus… The rain goes on, On and on again… Meanwhile the bad-weather-as-metaphor-for-heartbreak is a trope as old as pop music, from ‘Raining in My Heart’ to ‘Rhythm of the Rain’.
Since the ridiculous ‘C’est la Vie’, B*Witched have matured with each successive single, to the point that I’ve been quite impressed with how much I’ve enjoyed it when they’ve popped up in recent weeks. I’d still rank ‘Rollercoaster’ as my favourite, but this has some nice harmonies in the choruses and the middle-eight.
‘Blame It on the Weatherman’ was the group’s fourth consecutive #1 single, matching the Spice Girls’ achievement from a couple of years earlier. (In fact they bettered that record by having all four singles enter at the top; ‘Wannabe’ having climbed to its peak.) It would be their last though, as none of the singles from their second album came close. It’s interesting, actually, how quickly the B*Witched bubble burst. If we fast-forward exactly a year, in March 2000 we’d find ‘Jump Down’ struggling to a #16 peak.
They split in 2002, after being dropped by Sony despite having a third album in the works. More recently they have reformed and toured with other ‘90s pop acts (including recent chart-toppers 911), and have even tentatively released some new material, that hasn’t come close to troubling the charts. All a long way from the late-nineties, when B*Witched at the height of their powers were scoring four #1s across barely nine months. All together now: what were they like?
PS. I’m adding this in a couple of days after publishing, but I’ve just realised that when this record knocked Boyzone from the top it was probably the first and only time that two siblings have replaced one another at number one (Boyzone’s Shane Lynch and B*Witched’s Edele and Keavy Lynch). Let me know of any others!
From pop heaven, it’s back down to earth with a hefty bump…
When the Going Gets Tough, by Boyzone (their 5th of six #1s)
2 weeks, from 7th – 21st March 1999
Boyzone return with their penultimate chart-topper. Yes, we’re almost done with them. And, hey, at least this isn’t a ballad! Instead it’s that other modern pop group staple: the charity cover. From the late nineties onwards, charities desperate for your money made a clear shift away from novelty singles over to classic covers by the day’s big acts. There are similar crimes against pop to come from the likes of Westlife, Girls Aloud, and One Direction.
The synths are cheap and the production tacky on this version of Billy Ocean’s 1986 #1, while I think this might be Ronan Keating’s most grating vocal performance yet (a category with some very strong competition). In fact, this is pretty poor all round. I just don’t think Boyzone had the personality to do anything other than bland balladry. The fun and frivolity here sounds much too forced.
The best bit by far is that they keep the original’s saxophone solo almost note for note, which means we get a blast of sweet mid-80s sax – a sound I never realised I’d missed. And yes, the Billy Ocean version is a decent enough song (though not one I was overly hot on in my original post), and it’s hard to completely ruin decent source material. That original feels like a lifetime ago (in some ways it was, as I was born a few weeks before Ocean made #1), but the thirteen year gap between these versions means it’s the same as an artist in 2024 covering a song from 2011, which sounds like the blink of an eye…
This was the 1999 Comic Relief single, raising money for any number of good causes. So yes, yes, yes we shouldn’t be too harsh on it. (Though I would donate far more money than the price of a CD single to never hear Boyzone again). The video features the requisite plethora of celebs goofing around in the name of charidee. In fact, watching this was the most enjoyable part of this whole exercise, seeing people that hadn’t crossed my mind for many years: Will Mellor, John McCririck, Mystic Meg (RIP) and Saracen from Gladiators (as well as a very young Graham Norton).
…Baby One More Time, by Britney Spears (her 1st of six #1s)
2 weeks, from 21st February – 7th March 1999
Sorry, couldn’t resist. That iconic intro is still eight years off. But let’s be real, the three note piano motif (the official term, apparently) that introduced the world to Britney Spears, and that underpins one of the all-time great pop songs, is even more iconic.
Yes, ‘all-time great’. Up there in the pop pantheon with ‘Cathy’s Clown’, ‘She Loves You’, ‘Dancing Queen’, ‘It’s a Sin’… You name a pop classic from any era, and ‘…Baby One More Time’ is up there holding its own alongside them. It has all the indefinable qualities – the ability to hook you instantly, the ability to remain catchy but never cloying, the ability to still somehow sound fresh after twenty-five years – which all classics need.
But, I hear you argue, is this not too bubblegum to be an all-time classic? Don’t Britney’s vocal, shall we say, limitations not detract? To the first charge I say no, for this has as much underlying melancholy as the best ABBA songs. What other teenybop songs involve lines about fatal loneliness? And to the second I say that sixteen-year-old Britney’s vocal stylings are perfect for a song about teenage lust and longing. Plus, she managed to influence the way an entire generation pronounced the word ‘baby’ (Bayba? Baybay? Byebuh?)
To reach truly magical heights though, a song needs a moment where everything just clicks. That moment of transcendence arrives in the middle eight, as the chorus lines are chopped up and loaded with emphasis: I must confess, That my loneliness, Is killing me now…
Of course, this was a massive smash across the world, and now stands as one of the best-selling singles ever. It’s most recent placing in the Rolling Stone Top 500 of all time was #205. It’s also been voted the greatest debut single of all time, and the UK’s 7th favourite number one. Britney aside, it also properly introduced the world to Max Martin, one of the most successful chart-topping writers and producers of all time. At last count I make this his first of twenty appearances in the credits of a chart-topping single in the UK.
‘…Baby One More Time’ also won awards for its video, in which Britney flaunts almost every school uniform rule in the book. It got criticism too, for sexualising both school uniforms and the teenage singer in them, as well as the suggestion that it was glamorising sexual violence. Martin has since argued that the ‘hit me’ in the lyrics refers to ‘hitting someone up on the phone’ (as the kids put it in 1999), and that any confusion stems from the fact that English isn’t his first language.
But frankly, who cares? A song this good doesn’t deserve to be caught up in tawdry speculation about its slightly risqué video. Having said that, while this might technically be the best of Britney Spears many singles, it is not my favourite. Britney has five more number ones to get through, and two of those songs can rival this for classic status.
Lenny Kravitz then, bringing us three guitar-led number ones out of four…. Heady days!
Fly Away, by Lenny Kravitz (his 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 14th – 21st February 1999
The intro really rocks, a concrete-heavy riff that fills the room, so much that it sets us up for disappointment upon hearing the rest of the song. Not that it’s bad, not really. But the effect-laden guitars in the verses are interesting – I can’t help hearing someone struggling to swallow, in urgent need of a Heimlich manoeuvre – and Lenny Kravitz’s vocals somehow don’t do the tune any favours.
Plus, the lyrics are simplistic, verging on just plain bad. I wish that I could fly, Into the sky, So very high… Just like a dragonfly… Ignoring the fact that dragonflies usually hover at no more than tree-height, the insistence on dragging out rhymes across several lines, entire verses even, is annoying. I want to get away, I want to flyyyyy away… Kravitz pleads, so often that you begin to wish he’d just bloody well go. What’s stopping him?
I’ll admit that my opinion of this track is clouded by the fact I’ve never quite gotten Lenny Kravitz. He seems to me like a parody of an oversexed rock star, desperately wanting to be Prince, or Jimi Hendrix. But then again, Black rock musicians are hardly ten a-penny so I should give him credit for carving out an impressive career. Plus, ‘Are You Gonna Go My Way’ is a ten-out-of-ten classic, and would have made a much more worthy chart-topper.
Having claimed that ‘Fly Away’ isn’t bad, I realise I’ve just spent three paragraphs giving a pretty compelling argument as to why it is. Part of me relishes a brief period of rock dominance at the top of the charts, but at the same time I shouldn’t be uncritical of a song just because it’s got guitars, and isn’t by a boyband or a faceless DJ. This for me doesn’t come close to the gonzo pop-punk of the Offspring, or Blondie’s cool-as-fuck comeback.
It probably wouldn’t have made #1 either, if it hadn’t been used extensively in adverts for Peugeot (for some reason I misremembered it as Vodafone). Kravitz’s only previous visit to the UK Top 10 had been with the already-mentioned ‘Are You Gonna Go My Way’ six years earlier. Songs from Adverts has been a surprisingly successful chart-topping genre over the years, and this won’t be 1999’s last. ‘Fly Away’ does though finally bring to an end our run of ten consecutive one-weekers – by far the longest such run in chart history. It’s been an eclectic quickfire run through Xmas ballads, novelty funk, dance, and some good old fashioned rock and roll. And of course, the record that did finally manage to stay at the top for longer than seven days had to be something pretty special…
I wonder who had this on their 1999 bingo cards? New-wave icons Blondie stage a comeback, release their first single since 1982, and it only goes and makes number one…
Maria, by Blondie (their 6th and final #1)
1 week, from 7th – 14th February 1999
Okay, the first part had already happened in 1997, with the band spending much of 1998 on tour. But surely nobody expected this… Exactly twenty years since ‘Heart of Glass’ became their first chart-topper, and over eighteen since ‘The Tide Is High’ became what most assumed was their last.
‘Chocolate Salty Balls’ was a recent, perfect example of how to do a novelty hit. ‘Maria’ is, then, a textbook example of how to arrange a comeback smash. They’re still new-wave punks at heart, with razor sharp guitars in the intro and solo, Harry on top vocal form (for that chorus line needs belting out), and some trademark drum fills from Clem Burke. The subject matter also calls to mind earlier Blondie hits-about-girls, like ‘Sunday Girl’ and ‘Rip Her to Shreds’. But the production is clean, crisp, late-nineties alt-rock. A perfect balance that means ‘Maria’ could have come right in the middle of Blondie’s imperial phase; but that also guaranteed radio play in 1999. Plus, there’s wedding bells, which I don’t really get but sound great.
Who is ‘Maria’, though? One of rock’s great femme fatales, she was an imaginary woman, dreamed up by keyboard player Jimmy Destri, who had fantasised about such a girl while at a Catholic school. She sounds pretty high maintenance – She moves like she don’t care, Smooth as silk, Cool as air – but also like you’d give your right eye for her to just notice you. And the line about her Walking on imported air… has to be one of the coolest descriptions in rock ‘n’ roll. Ooh it makes you wanna die…
The slightly surprising thing here is that Blondie weren’t all that old in 1999… They were in their late forties/early fifties, which in 2024, when Beyonce and Eminem can still make number one, doesn’t seem that wild. Debbie Harry was fifty-three, which means she promptly usurps Cher (eleven months her junior) as the oldest female chart-topper. It also meant that Blondie joined a very select group of acts to have made #1 in three different decades, which in 1999 only numbered Cliff, Elvis, the Bee Gees, and Queen (and Paul McCartney, under various guises).
They have gone on to release four more albums since this comeback, the most recent coming in 2017. Chart hits have been harder to come by, but I would point you in the direction of their following lead single, 2003’s cracking ‘Good Boys’. I feel like a Blondie ‘Best of the Rest’ post is overdue…
Finally, we should mention that ‘Maria’ becomes the latest in a long, long line of chart-topping women. Off the top of my head we’ve had Tiffany, Frankie, Josephine, and Eleanor Rigby, but there are many, many more. Though, interestingly, number ones named after women seem to have been much more prevalent in the fifties and sixties than in the 1990s…
A fairly unusual rock track is followed on top of the charts by a fairly generic dance track. Standard January fare for the late ‘90s…
You Don’t Know Me, by Armand Van Helden (his 1st of two #1s) ft. Duane Harden
1 week, from 31st January – 7th February 1999
We should though prepare to meet more and more of these one-off dance tracks in the coming months, to the point where there will become commonplace. This is the sound of 1999, really: ATB, Eiffel 65, Mr. Oizo… All kicked off by Armand Van Helden. Whom we have met before in this blog, with his uncredited remix of Tori Amos’ ‘Professional Widow’ (another January number one!)
And unlike some of those dance hits soon to come, ‘You Don’t Know Me’ has a nice retro-house feel, with a disco groove and soulful vocals from Duane Harden. It feels like something that could have been a hit much earlier in the decade. Which might be explained by the fact that this is, naturally, a mish-mash of samples, with strings that date from the seventies and drums from 1992. The eight-minute original version also features a spoken intro from ‘Dexter’s Laboratory’. As in, the cartoon.
Although Duane Arden has an excellent, soulful growl to his voice, the lyrics are standard ‘living my best life’ dance fodder. I’m tired and I’ve had enough, It’s my life and I’m living it now… But really, nobody wants to think too much on the dancefloor. Arden wrote the words by himself, once Van Helden had finished the music, like a dance version of Elton and Bernie.
Like many of the previous dance number ones, I don’t hate it. It’s fine. It washes over me pleasantly enough, and has caused me to do a couple of involuntary shoulder shimmies. But at the same time, like many dance tunes, after the first minute I start to find it a little repetitive. Dance music is not made for a guy sitting at a desk to analyse. Duane Harden’s week at the top was the pinnacle of his pop career; while Armand Van Helden will continue to produce and write hits throughout the 2000s, until his final #1 in a decade’s time.
For a fairly innocuous and forgotten chart-topper, this is a big one for me personally. I turned thirteen on the day this entered at number one (though I am a bit peeved that I just miss out on having the Offspring as a birthday #1). I apologise in advance for all the teenage nostalgia that will inevitable cloud my judgement as we cover the coming seven years’ worth of number ones…
The UK Number Ones Blog 