728. ‘Fairground’, by Simply Red

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By late-1995, a decade into their chart careers, were Mick Hucknall and Simply Red overdue a massive, chart-topping hit, or would it be better for all if this had never happened…?

Fairground, by Simply Red (their 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 24th September – 22nd October 1995

I can’t say I’m a huge fan of, or much of an expert in, Simply Red’s music. It’s always seemed a little too glossy, a little too smooth… Blue-eyed soul in its slickest form. But the verses here are not what you might expect, from Simply Red or indeed from any number one single. There’s a hypnotic samba beat, trippy flutes, and Hucknall trilling about pleasure at the fairground, almost freestyling. It’s odd, slightly haunting; but captivatingly so.

And then comes the chorus, the most famous chorus of the band’s long career, and it’s such a sledgehammer that it obliterates the rest of the song. The subtle verses are overwhelmed by Mick Hucknall belting out the And I love the thought of coming home to you…! line. An ear-catching piece of music for sure, and in the moment you can hear why this record went on to become their biggest hit. Certain songs have moments where you can pinpoint exactly why they become huge smashes, and this is one.

 It was the lead-single from Simply Red’s fifth album, and was so highly anticipated that it crashed straight in at #1, with weekly sales beaten only by 1995 juggernauts Blur, Take That, and, of course, Robson & Jerome. What’s interesting is that the distinctive samba drumbeat that forms the backbone to ‘Fairground’ had featured in the UK Top 5 less than two years before, it being a sample of the largely instrumental ‘Give It Up’, by The Good Men.

 Another reason I’ve long been suspicious of Simply Red’s music, aside from the glossiness, and the reliance on overwrought covers of soul classics, is Mick Hucknall himself. Pop music’s most famous ginge (until you-know-who came along) was someone that I, as a fellow ginger, felt a little embarrassed by. Growing up, it was either him, or Chris Evans, and neither did much for our reputation. Take the ‘Fairground’ video as an example: the shades, the awkward dancing… And yet it did him no harm. He claims to have slept with a thousand women, including Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Helena Christensen. Maybe I should be embracing him, then, as there are shockingly few ginger sex symbols…? My conflict is encapsulated in the fact that his band name may be a reference to his hair colour (cool! represent!), or to the fact that he’s a Manchester Utd fan (aw, man…)

I mentioned the video to ‘Fairground’ a moment ago, and watching it back just now I was hit by a huge wave of nostalgia. Hucknall larking around Blackpool Pleasure Beach… For a moment I was in my family living room, post-dinner, curtains drawn, on our old brown sofa watching Top of the Pops. A memory I didn’t even know I had before writing this post. I expect even more Proustian reactions to coming number ones, as we march on through my childhood.

727. ‘Boombastic’, by Shaggy

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In our last post, Michael Jackson was putting his syrupy, slightly sticky moves on us with ‘You Are Not Alone’. It didn’t work for me, personally. What I wanted was, it turns out, a boombastic, romantic, fantastic lover…

Boombastic, by Shaggy (his 2nd of four #1s)

1 week, from 17th – 24th September 1995

And for that we need… Mr Lover-Lover himself. Like his first number one ‘Oh Carolina’, this is rough and ready dancehall, a simple, grinding beat over which Shaggy explains exactly why he is such a superb lover. I have no idea what makes that two-note, clanking metal riff which, alongside a plonking piano, makes the skeleton of this song, but I love it.

Thanks to that riff, this is a fabulously filthy and fun record. You can almost feel the sweat dripping down the walls of whatever basement club it’s being played in. And yet, compared to The Outhere Brothers moronically offensive output, ‘Boombastic’ is all perfectly PG. Some talk of tickling foot-bottoms and sexual physique is as steamy as it gets, while lines like You are the bun and me are the cheese… are actually quite sweet. Meanwhile, for years, I thought Shaggy was being self-deprecating in calling himself ‘semi-fantastic’. Though of course, he’s actually rapping in Jamaican patois: She call me Mr Boombastic, Say me fantastic…

That patois is one of the main attractions here. The way Shaggy rolls every line around in his throat, from gruff growls to choirboy high notes, like a cat toying with its prey, is wonderful. As with ‘Oh Carolina’, there are times when I genuinely have no clue what he’s on about, but it doesn’t matter. The grinding beat means you get the gist.

I’ll show my age and call this Shaggy’s signature song. Of course, he has a much bigger, globe-conquering, hit to come; but ‘Boombastic’ seemed to be everywhere at the time. It managed to appeal to nine-year-old me as well as a much more sophisticated audience, because it’s got just enough of a novelty element to it. Who wouldn’t, at any age, want to call themselves ‘Mr Boombastic’? I had no idea what ‘Boombastic’ meant – I still don’t and, if we’re being honest, does anyone? – but it matters not.

What I didn’t realise was that ‘Boombastic’ was yet another song boosted to #1 by a Levi’s Jeans commercial. I make that five Levi’s-adjacent chart-toppers, off the top of my head, making it a genre in its own right. Also helping was the fact that Shaggy had had a big hit earlier in the year with a cover of Mungo Jerry’s ‘In the Summertime’. It couldn’t be further from the supposedly era-defining Britpop sound, but I am always here for some Shaggy – one of the oddest, and yet fun-est, pop stars of the age.

726. ‘You Are Not Alone’, by Michael Jackson

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And so we arrive at yet another staging-post on the long, but thinly spread, chart-topping career of Michael Jackson. One number one with his brothers, and seven solo, stretched out over two decades. Interestingly, and perhaps aptly, he only ever made #1 in odd numbered years…

You Are Not Alone, by Michael Jackson (his 5th of seven #1s)

2 weeks, from 3rd – 17th September 1995

’77, ’81, ’83, ’87, ’91 and now 1995. And this is just what we’ve been missing on our 1995 bingo card. After all the dance, the Britpop and the power balladry, what we really needed was some slow and syrupy, mid-nineties R&B. This sound was (thankfully) much more prevalent on the Billboard charts, possibly the sound of US pop at the time, and few acts would have had the star power to drag this sludge to the top spot in the UK.

Trust MJ, though. It was the second single from the ‘HIStory’ album, following ‘Scream’, the duet with sister Janet, more famous for its record-breakingly expensive video. And there is a sweet simplicity to this song. The chorus plays almost like a lullaby: You are not alone, I am here with you, Though you’re far away, I am here to stay… Like a lullaby in that it’s pretty, and in that it may send you to sleep.

Jackson puts in a pretty strong vocal performance as well, limiting the ticks and the gulps that have marked most of his music since ‘Bad’ (there’s not a single ‘eeeh hee’ either). He gives the lungs a workout towards the end, post key-change, reminding us that underneath it all he was always a fine singer.

And yet… Watch the video, and it’s easy to become distracted from the actual song. He is now fully white, and very plastic-looking. We’re almost treated to a full-frontal from the King of Pop, as he smooches with then wife Lisa Marie Presley, wrapped only in a towel. It’s all pretty icky. Of course, knowing what we know now means that any Jacko love song comes with its own in-built ick-factor. (‘You Are Not Alone’ was also written by R Kelly, just in case we needed any extra ickiness.)

So, in summary, this is a sweet enough, well-performed ballad, your enjoyment of which depends on how much you can block out thoughts of what we know now, and of a near-naked MJ canoodling with Elvis’s daughter. 1995 will actually turn out to be Jackson’s most successful year, in terms of chart-toppers. He still has a massive Christmas #1 to come, in which he puts his clothes back on and returns to his usual preposterous, overblown nonsense.

725. ‘Country House’, by Blur

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When old fogies stop to reminisce about the 1990s, about the music that soundtracked final few years of the 20th Century, we might think of the Spice Girls, Take That, or Pulp. Maybe even The Prodigy, or The Chemical Brothers. But if you had to bet on it, you’d bet that we think of this one moment: the chart dated 20th-26th August 1995.

Country House, by Blur (their 1st of two #1s)

2 weeks, from 20th August – 3rd September 1995

Oasis Vs Blur. North Vs South. Working-class Mancs vs posh(er) Essex lads. Cliches, cliches, all the way. Legend has it that Liam Gallagher taunted Damon Albarn about Oasis having a number one single, spurring Blur’s management to cheekily change their next release date to clash with Oasis’s ‘Roll With It’, making for great publicity, and the highest sales week for a decade (setting the way for single sales to hit an all-time high in the coming years).

But the story here is the song, primarily, and I should block out all the hype and noise and focus on the tune. As with ‘Some Might Say’, ‘Country House’ may have been Blur’s first #1, but it’s not one of their very best singles. From their earlier hits, ‘Girls & Boys’ is better musically, while ‘Parklife’ has left a much larger cultural legacy. Still, it’s a fun, multi-coloured romp, right from the helter skelter intro through to the brass section in the fade-out. And it tells a story not much heard in chart-topping singles: that of a country squire living a life of rural asceticism. He’s got a fog in chest, So he needs a lot of rest… He doesn’t drink, smoke, laugh, Takes herbal baths… In the country…

There’s a lot going on, musically, and a lot of knowing references to British bands past. Oasis get a lot of stick for being musical magpies, but I hear plenty of Kinks and Small Faces, as well as Madness, and the ghosts of British music hall, here. (Chas & Dave, too, according to Noel Gallagher, but he meant it as an insult…) The video also has Brit-references galore: Page 3 girls, Benny Hill themed hi-jinks, a nod to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, Matt Lucas, Jo Guest and Keith Allen (featuring in his second chart-topping video). And for the ultimate Britpop seal of approval, it was directed by Damien Hirst.

The story, like I said, should be the song. And yet, would ‘Country House’ have made #1 were it not for all the hullaballoo? Maybe, as it was the lead single off a hotly-anticipated new album. But maybe not, as Blur had only three previous Top 10 hits to their name, and just one Top 5. So perhaps we can’t fully separate this song from all the nonsense. What’s certain is that the right song won. ‘Roll With It’ is probably Oasis’s laziest single. I do like it, but you can see why it’s been called ‘Status-Slade’ (though that’s not the insult some might think…) Also, in terms of the ‘Battle of Britpop’, Blur were the originals – their 1992 hit ‘Popscene’ is claimed by many as the very first Britpop single.

In my post on ‘Some Might Say’, I mentioned that my love for Oasis has dimmed over the years. With Blur, the opposite has happened. Nobody I knew at school would have admitted to liking them over Oasis – they were too clever, too arty… Everyone liked ‘Song 2’, but then that’s their dumbest song by far. As a sensible adult, though, I can admit that Blur were the more expansive songwriters. More fun, too – just look at them in the video, pratting about in bubble-baths, then try to imagine Liam doing the same…

Still, this is the first of only two times that we I’ll be writing about Blur (Albarn does also have a Gorillaz #1 to his name). Oasis may have lost this chart battle, but they definitely won the war…

724. ‘Never Forget’, by Take That

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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.

723. ‘Boom Boom Boom’, by The Outhere Brothers

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In my last post, I asked who were the worse duo: the Outhere Brothers, or Robson & Jerome? Well here they stand, in direct comparison…

Boom Boom Boom, by The Outhere Brothers (their 2nd and final #1)

4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th July 1995

It’s more obnoxious rap-cum-dance from the Outheres, though I have to admit that this is significantly better than ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’. It has a less irritating beat, and something resembling a verse-chorus structure. It hangs together like an actual song, rather than a bunch of samples around which filthy lyrics are shouted.

That’s not to say the lyrics aren’t dirty here; they just don’t reach the same levels of obnoxious vulgarity as their earlier #1. There’s an excellent use of the term ‘nani’, (as in put your nani on my tongue…), as well as various mentions of the brothers’ pet obsession: the booty. And I will confess I smiled at the line: Slip my Peter, Into your folder… I’m no prude, and if rudeness can be both silly and inventive, then I’m all for it.

The vast majority of the song though, is a sledgehammer Eurodance beat, and the call-and-response hook of Boom, boom, boom, Now let me hear you say Way-Oh! That’s what I remember from the school playgrounds of the time, and presumably the reason why this was such a hit. There’s nary a millennial alive who can’t complete the second half of the title line, though back in 1995 innocent little me had no idea that there was an explicit original.

Like ‘Don’t Stop’, it looks like ‘Boom Boom Boom’ had a wide variety of mixes and edits: some radio-friendly, some not. I don’t know if these were a factor in making this record a hit, or whether the British public were just mad for the Outhere Brothers in the summer of ’95. It still does feel very incongruous that slap bang in the middle of the year of Britpop, we had a month of this after seven weeks of Robson & Jerome’s golden-oldies.

This, thankfully, is the last we’ll hear from The Outhere Brothers. They would manage a couple of further Top 10 hits, before fading away. I call this the ‘significantly better’ of their two chart-toppers, but that still doesn’t mean it’s particularly good. The Brothers’ charms remain difficult to place. At least they didn’t outstay their welcome – a quick-fire double and now we can forget they ever existed. Unlike the year’s other duo…

722. ‘Unchained Melody’ / ‘White Cliffs of Dover’, by Robson & Jerome

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Serious question: who were the worst musical duo of 1995? In any other year, the moronic Outhere Brothers would have taken the prize hands down. And yet… We also have to reckon with another, potentially even more heinous, pair…

Unchained Melody / White Cliffs of Dover, by Robson & Jerome (their 1st of three #1s)

7 weeks, from 14th May – 2nd July 1995

Robson Green and Jerome Flynn were two actors and television personalities – still are, in fact. They had risen to prominence in the ITV series ‘Soldier Soldier’, in which they played, yes, soldiers. In one episode, they sang an impromptu version of ‘Unchained Melody’ at a wedding, going by the name the Unrighteous Brothers… And the rest was history.

This record suffers from two major problems. First off, it’s terrible. Secondly, the incomparably superior version of ‘Unchained Melody’ that this cover was based on is still fresh in the memory, having topped the charts barely four years ago. Which makes this sound even more like a cheap karaoke cash-in than the tinny backing track and the dodgy vocals might suggest.

And OK, they may have been going for a ‘cheap and cheerful’ feel, as in the TV programme, but that might be giving them a little too much benefit of the doubt. Allegedly the duo had a little ‘assistance’ in the recording studio (to the point where some claim that it’s not really them singing), but I’m not one to cast aspersions. Robson and Jerome seem like decent blokes, not taking themselves too seriously, enjoying an unexpected change in career direction… So on the one hand we shouldn’t get too annoyed by this silly #1. Yet, on the other, there’s the fact that what should have been a fun scene from a TV show was turned into a seven-week chart-topper, and the best-selling single of 1995 – nay, the best-selling single of the entire decade so far! The British public, once again, showing themselves unfit to be trusted within twenty feet of a record shop.

On the flip side of the disc, there’s something slightly more interesting. ‘(There’ll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover’ is a song from the Second World War, made famous by the forces’ sweetheart Vera Lynn. It’s interesting, because it may well have been a tie-in for the 50th anniversary of VE Day, and because it’s a clear indication of who this record was aimed at. Grannies across the land kept this on top of the charts, holding off U2 and, in a travesty far worse than Engelbert or ‘Shaddap You Face’, Pulp’s ‘Common People’.

‘Bluebirds’ itself is every bit as rotten as ‘Unchained Melody’, while the production may be even cheaper and nastier, slathered over twee lines about shepherds watching their flocks and little Jimmy sleeping safe in his room (which I’m sure were powerful in 1942 with the Luftwaffe swarming overhead, but which just sound maudlin here). At least, by the end, the pair have been relieved of their singing duties by a much more competent gospel choir.

Apparently both Robson and Jerome had to be persuaded to do any of this, to the point that Green threatened to sue for harassment. Who, pray tell, could be cynical enough to risk a court appearance in the name of unleashing this crap on the nation…? Oh, right, yep. Simon Cowell. The dark overlord of the charts in the 2000s cut his blood-sucking teeth with this, his first number one record. It was produced by two-thirds of SAW (Stock and Aitken), giving this disc yet another stamp of quality…

If only this was a one-off, for both Robson & Jerome, and for Simon Cowell. But, of course, it wasn’t. Much more is to come. Until then, let’s distract ourselves with some chart trivia. This marks the first time that a song has topped the chart in three different versions (the Righteous Brothers, of course, and the Jimmy Young version from way back in 1955). Meanwhile, ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ became the longest-titled #1 single ever – as long as you include the brackets at the start.

721. ‘Dreamer’, by Livin’ Joy

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A very happy new year to all who follow this blog! So, where were we…? In the real world it’s 2024, while back here it’s the spring of 1995…

Dreamer, by Livin’ Joy (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 7th – 14th May 1995

We left things a few weeks ago having just welcomed Oasis to the top of the charts with ‘Some Might Say’, officially kicking off the Britpop age. Our next number one is the direct flip-side to that wall of guitar; the other, equally valid, sound of the nineties.

That is, the sound of a hitherto unknown Europop outfit appearing out of nowhere with a proper old-school dance banger. Having it large, mate! Nice one! Big fish, little fish, cardboard box… etc. etc. I may struggle to convince as a dance music fan, but I really do like songs like this. Songs with conviction. Dance music with the power of rock and roll. Hands to the sky, don’t ask why.

Livin’ Joy were a pair of Italian brothers, who took care of the production, and American singer Janice Robinson, who fronted the whole thing. As with all the best dance tracks – ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’, ‘Let Me be Your Fantasy’ and the like – the vocals are made to be belted out between mouthfuls of dry ice. Probably the closest comparison to be drawn, though, is with Black Box’s ‘Ride on Time’ – not just because they were also Italian, but because Robinson is one of the few dance divas who can compete with Loleatta Holloway in the belting stakes.

And also because ‘Dreamer’ has quite a few retro house touches, especially as we end with the title line on a tight loop, as if the record has stuck, leaving us dancing to it for eternity. I drew a comparison to rock and roll a moment ago, and in all honesty dance music in the 1990s is what rock was in the 1950s… If you wanted to rock around the clock in 1995, you would do so to songs like ‘Dreamer’, with upbeat lyrics like Love, life, and laughter, Is all that I believe… None of that silly introspective nonsense. There’s also a good example of the ‘dance music as church’ phenomenon, in lines like My saviour is pure now, Because my lonely heart would bleed… They don’t mean much, if they mean anything at all, but they sound good in the moment. Euphoric, even.

I say that Livin’ Joy were ‘hitherto unknown’ before this, but in truth ‘Dreamer’ had made #18 – a not inconsiderable hit – just the year before. Its popularity kept growing, causing it to re-enter the lower reaches of the charts a couple of times, before a full re-release sent it walloping straight in at number one.

The band were good for another couple of Top 10 hits, but they did so without Janice Robinson, who left in 1996 to try a solo career. She has toured with Tina Turner and Lionel Richie, and written songs for a variety of different pop singers. Livin’ Joy meanwhile continued on with a different singer in Tameka Star. Wikipedia lists them as still active, but they haven’t released any new music since 1999.

Results! Your best (and worst) Christmas Number Ones…

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The results are in, the public has spoken. Earlier this week, Wham! finally made the festive top spot with ‘Last Christmas’, thirty-nine years late. (Hopefully now that it has achieved its ultimate goal, the song will be purged from every device on the planet, and we’ll never have to hear it again…) But in an even more important call to arms, I asked readers of this blog to choose their favourite, and their least-favourite, Xmas #1s.

The vote stopped in 1994, as that’s where our regular blog is (and because that is, I firmly believe, the end of the golden-age of the Christmas chart-topper). I also didn’t include every official Xmas #1 – just those that were Christmassy or silly enough – because everyone knows the Beatles were good, and we didn’t need them adding this honour to their role-call. So without further ado, the Top 3 Best Christmas #1s, as voted by you, are…

3rd place

‘Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)’, by Pink Floyd

The final Christmas #1 from THE decade for Christmas #1s, it’s the only single ever released by Pink Floyd (references needed). It ticks some of the boxes for a festive hit – novelty value, children singing en masse – but otherwise it’s got bugger all to do with the holiday season, and lots to do with abuse of power and brainwashing of youngsters. Margaret Thatcher hated it, and there’s no greater endorsement than that! (Read my original post on it here.)

2nd place

‘Stay Another Day’, by East 17

More Christmassy than Pink Floyd, though still not officially a ‘Christmas song’ (but, the bells!)… The 1994 Xmas chart-topper. Written about the suicide of Tony Mortimer’s brother, it’s both sad, and uplifting, as I mentioned in my post on it a few weeks back. And those white parkas have become enshrined in British pop culture. It was still some way off the winning song, though…

1st place

‘Merry Xmas Everybody’, by Slade

It had to be, didn’t it? With just over 30% of the vote, it’s the song that kicked of the very idea of the ‘Christmas Number One’. A glam classic, and a raucous festive singalong, for many it simply isn’t Christmas until Noddy Holder has belted out his famous line… All together now… It’s Christmaaaaaas…!

Anyway, now that’s done, on to the really important bit. The WORST… And interestingly, more votes were cast in this one than for the ‘good’ Christmas songs. Nice to see everyone indulging their dark side… One song was a clear leader from the start but, like all the best Xmas #1 races, a second contender caught up and ended the vote neck and neck. Yes, we have a tie…

Joint 1st place

‘Mr Blobby’, by Mr Blobby, and ‘There’s No One Quite Like Grandma’, by The St Winifred’s School Choir

I’m not sure there can be many complaints, as these are two truly terrible pieces of music, for very different reasons. One is manically unhinged, the other is sickeningly saccharine. Both represent the British public’s tendency to send utter tat to the top of the charts, especially at Christmas. But… I do have a soft spot for one of them; while the other needs, in my opinion, to be torched by a flame-thrower. Regular readers will know which is which.

Thanks for voting, for reading this post, and for reading, liking, and commenting on all my posts throughout this year, and the years before. For the first time since starting this blog in 2018, I’ll be taking a winter break. I’ll still be around, interacting in the blogosphere, but the next #1s post will be (hopefully) on the 7th January.

All that’s left is to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! See you in 2024!

#1s poll! Choose your best (and worst) Christmas Number Ones…

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It’s the most wonderful time of the year, at least according to Andy Williams, which means stockings above the fireplace, geese getting fat, goodwill to all… And the annual race for Christmas Number One.

By now it’s certainly a British tradition, and the one time of the year that the singles chart is guaranteed to make the news, but most people would say that the honour of being the nation’s biggest-selling song on December 25th has lost a lot of its lustre. I’d agree. In fact, I’d say that we’ve already covered the heyday of the Christmas Number One in my regular blog… The most recent festive #1 was 1994’s: East 17’s ‘Stay Another Day’, a classic that I’ve just named one of the Very Best. From here on its a slippery slope, past The Spice Girls, endless X-Factor winners, countless charity singles, to the very bottom of the barrel, and the dreaded LadBaby.

Now it’s time for you to decide: what is the greatest Xmas #1? And, perhaps more importantly, what is the worst?? See below two polls, in which you can choose as many or as few songs as you like, for both honours.

Perhaps controversially, I’ve not listed every Xmas #1 since 1952. Until the early seventies, the idea of a ‘Christmas Number One’ wasn’t particularly relevant, so the only pre-1973 hits I’ve included in the vote are specifically Chistmassy, or novelty songs that probably wouldn’t have made #1 at any other time of year (so, sorry, no Beatles…) Even post-1973, I’ve excluded pop songs that just happened to be #1 at Christmas (so no Human League, or Pet Shop Boys). However, there is space at the bottom for you to nominate any Xmas #1 you think I’ve unfairly missed off the list. You may, for example, feel very strongly that ‘Two Little Boys’ deserves the title…

Here’s the poll for the best…

And the worst…

I’ll announce the results on Christmas Eve, so you have until then to cast your votes. Have at it!