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…?
And now for something a little different… Eurodance meets the Charleston.
Doop, by Doop (their 1st and only #1)
3 weeks, from 13th March – 3rd April 1994
More impressively, Eurodance meets the Charleston, and the results aren’t a complete disaster. ‘Doop’s merging of wildly disparate musical eras works. It’s fast, catchy, and fun – a novelty for sure, but not too irritating. It works its way right into your brain, thanks to its frenetic pace and puppy dog energy, and stays there…
It’s a completely instrumental track, apart from the doopy-doopy-do-do-doos which give the song its name. It’s the last instrumental number one since… I’m not sure, to be honest, but it’s been a good while. It’s also probably one of the last, as they’ve become rarer and rarer since their heyday in the late fifties-early sixties.
There’s not much to it – a big band sample stretched out over a techno beat. With the aforementioned doops, of course. The most complex thing about this record is how many remixes there were, and working out which one was actually getting airplay at the time. They all have a varying techno-to-Charleston ratio. The ‘Official Video’ on YouTube is the most modern, a dance beat interspersed with trumpet blasts. I prefer the more big band-heavy versions, such as the Sidney Berlin Ragtime Band mix, from the Maxi-CD release, or the Urge-2-Merge radio edit.
The best mixes are also the ones that keep proceedings down to the three-minute mark for, as fun as this tune is, it can get a little repetitive when stretched over seven minutes. Short and sweet is the order of the day here. Doop were, you’ll be shocked to realise, from the Netherlands, the one country that can rival masters Germany for Europop cheese. And let’s be honest, giving your debut single the same name as your band (or vice-versa) suggests that you’re quite happy in aiming for one-hit wonder status.
In fairness, Doop did manage a #88 follow-up hit with ‘Huckleberry Jam’, in which they tried the same trick using an old blues riff, while an earlier incarnation of the group, Hocus Pocus, made #1 in Australia with a song called ‘Here’s Johnny!’ Really though, this is real one-hit wonder stuff: a flash in the pan, bottled lightning moment, and I’m not sure this track has been played on the radio for years.
It was a trend-setter of sorts, though. I can’t think of many dance tracks that sampled pre-rock and roll music before Doop, but I can think of a few that came afterwards, including at least a couple of number ones. Anyway, I like it, as throwaway as it is. The NME disagree, though, naming it among their ‘25 most annoying songs ever’… Which seems rich given some of the crap they’ve championed over the years.
Mariah Carey, one of the biggest-selling stars of the 1990s, is very poorly served in terms of the UK number ones she scored in that decade. Just the one, in fact. This one.
Without You, by Mariah Carey (her 1st of four #1s)
4 weeks, from 13th February – 13th March 1994
And I have to say, as much as I have a soft spot for ‘Mariah’ the camp icon – the ‘Cribs’ appearance, the ‘I don’t know her’ meme, all that nonsense – the fact that she didn’t dominate the British charts in the same way she took over the Billboard Hot 100 can only be a good thing. Yes, she can sing. No question. She takes Nilsson’s 1972 #1, and sings the absolute bejeezus out of it.
At one point, towards the end of this track, she extends the I can’t give any more… line for a full sixteen seconds, in a display of aggressive melisma. I can barely hold my breath for sixteen seconds, let alone belt out a succession of different musical notes for that length of time, and in purely technical terms it is very impressive. And yet, it’s these sorts of vocal gymnastics that ruin the song.
The same charges that were laid out against Whitney Houston as she whooped and hollered her way through ‘One Moment in Time’ and ‘I Will Always Love You’, can be made against Mariah here. Technically good singing will only get you so far, if you don’t mean what you’re howling about. Not in every song – plenty of decent pop songs can be churned out half-arsed – but in a torch song like this, with such a heartfelt original to compare it to, the difference shows. (Nilsson’s version, of course, wasn’t the original, but it is the version to which everyone compared Carey’s.)
Another comparison I can make between Mariah and Whitney is that I’ve always enjoyed Carey’s poppier moments more than her monster ballads. ‘Fantasy’, ‘Dreamlover’ and ‘Heartbreaker’ are all solid nineties pop tunes. What we also have to take into account, before complaining about her endless stream of ballads, is that she was tied in to a pretty controlling contract, and a pretty nasty relationship, with her manager Tommy Mottola.
I was under the impression that Harry Nilsson had died when this cover of his most famous hit was at #1, and was going to make a cheap joke about his cause of death. Except he had died a month before, in January 1994, at the very young age of fifty-two. I assume that Carey’s cover was already recorded by then, and wasn’t intended as a tribute, even if it did in the end become one. She had already had eight chart-toppers in the US, though ‘Without You’ stalled at #3 over there.
Younger readers may be surprised to discover that Mariah Carey actually had a recording career beyond a certain Christmas song, the name of which I dare not type out in case I accidentally get it stuck in my head. In truly shameless Mariah fashion, she’s really lent into her ‘Queen of Christmas’ alter-ego in recent years and, even as I sit here in late October, I’m counting down the days until her annual assault on the charts, and on our ears…
There’s a niche category of number one singles, one I’m going to name ‘much loved chart-toppers that I don’t really get’ (catchy, isn’t it?) Our next #1 belongs to this category…
Things Can Only Get Better, by D:Ream (their 1st and only #1)
4 weeks, from 16th January – 13th February 1994
I don’t dislike ‘Things Can Only Get Better’; I just don’t quite see why people love it. I think the problem is the intro, the overwrought vocals and weighty piano chords gradually building, very slowly getting to the point. Is this a gospel track? A spiritual? No, it’s just a dance tune, and once the synths and the funky bassline come in, and you know where you stand, things improve.
I have a deep suspicion for songs that could be described as ‘motivational’, which is probably where my issues with this tune lie. ‘Motivational’ means ‘uplifting’, and the next step on the ladder from that is ‘spiritual’, or ‘religious’, and I’m someone who believes very strongly in the separation of church and pop. It’s not just this song – there is a strain of thought (or clever marketing) that positions dance music as a sort of religion, with nightclubs as churches, and the Ministry of Sound as some sort of Holy Father… Religious ecstasy taking on a new meaning in this case…
But then I sit down, and properly listen to the lyrics to ‘Things Can Only Get Better’, and wonder if they aren’t to do with accepting who you are, and holding your head up through scorn and insult… Burn the bridges as you’ve gone, I’m too weak to fight you, I’ve got my personal hell to deal with… Maybe it even alludes to those with AIDS (I must learn to live with this disease…), and I’m starting to feel bad for writing this song off as mindless motivational nonsense.
My favourite part of the song is the ending (and I don’t mean that sarcastically) as the entire song deconstructs, the horn riff goes wonky, and the lyrics taper off. I still don’t love it, but I think I’m beginning to appreciate it a little more. I can see it as a musical sibling of Yazz’s ‘The Only Way Is Up’, which is every bit as positive, but doesn’t quite wear its heart on its sleeve like this one.
D:Ream were the brainchild of Peter Cunnah, a Northern Irish singer-songwriter, who sings the vocals on this track. He sounds a bit like George Michael, actually – one moment light and airy, the next hitting a throaty growl. The other members changed fairly regularly, but one of their more famous alumni is the now TV-scientist Brian Cox, who famously played keyboards when the band performed ‘Things…’ on Top of the Pops.
This was their first big hit, but D:Ream had been plugging away for a few years before breaking through. This track had been released a year earlier, making #24, but its popularity in the clubs kept growing, leading to this re-release. In many ways, this is one of the chart-toppers that sum up the mid-to-late nineties: Britpop, Cool Britannia, Noel’s union jack guitar, Geri’s dress, all that razzamatazz. It was used as a campaign song by the great political hope of the age, New Labour, as they swept to victory in the 1997 general election. It all seems like a very long time ago, now…
To mark the release of the Stones’ 24th studio album, and their first original recording in almost two decades, let’s delve back into their long chart career, and explore the hits that didn’t make number one.
Over the course of the 1960s, the band scored eight chart toppers, from ‘It’s All Over Now’ in ’64 to ‘Honky Tonk Women’ in ’69. But they didn’t stop when the sixties ended. No, as you may be aware, they kept going. And going. Kept on rolling on. Impressively, their recent comeback single, ‘Angry’, made #34 in the UK, their first Top 40 hit since 2005. But that won’t quite make this list of their ten biggest non-chart toppers. In ascending order, then…
‘Start Me Up’, reached #7 in 1981
The Stones at their Stonesiest. A killer riff, some smutty lyrics, and Mick doing his best Jane Fonda impression in the video. It’s an impressive feat, releasing one of your signature songs two decades into your career. But it also somewhat marked the end of the band as a chart concern – it remains their final UK Top 10 hit – and the start of The Stones TM: the mega-touring, jukebox musical that the band have been for the last forty years. ‘Tattoo You’, the album from which it came, is seen by many as the band’s last great LP, too.
‘Fool to Cry’, reached #6 in 1976
Perhaps the one thing lacking from the Stones’ back-catalogue is a big ballad. (Ok, the next song on the list proves that statement completely wrong…) Anyway, ‘Fool to Cry’ comes close to being that ballad. A slow, bluesy number that takes its time, lingering on some wonderful falsetto notes from Mick. In the first verse he’s feeling low, so he puts his daughter on his knee, and she tells him Daddy, You’re a fool to cry… A bit too sentimental for the Stones? Not to worry, in verse two Mick goes to his mistress, who lives in a po’ part of town… And she says the exact same thing. Much more like it!
‘Angie’, reached #5 in 1973
Of course, if the Stones do have a big ballad, then it’s this one. There was some discussion as to who ‘Angie’ was: David Bowie’s wife, Keith Richard’s daughter, or the actress Angie Dickinson. Whoever it’s about, it’s a beautiful love song, with Jagger’s slurred singing giving the impression that he’s had a shot or two of Dutch courage before suggesting he and Angie call it a day.
‘Tumbling Dice’, reached #5 in 1972
I called ‘Start Me Up’ the Stones at their Stonesiest, but actually… This is the band at the peak of the powers. The lead single from what is widely regarded as their best album (though I’d go for the clean and concise ‘Sticky Fingers’ over the rambling ‘Exile…’) ‘Tumbling Dice’ might be the coolest piece of rock music ever recorded – that boogie-woogie rhythm, Keef’s lazy riff, Charlie’s drums bringing up the rear, the lyrics about being rank outsiders and partners in crime.. To be honest, until watching the lyric video above I had no idea what 90% of the words to ‘Tumbling Dice’ were. But does it matter? Nah. This one’s all about the groove, the attitude, about being the best freakin’ rock and roll band in the world.
‘Have You Seen Your Mother Baby, Standing in the Shadow?’, reached #5 in 1966
It’s easy now, with them in their eighties, to be blasé about how dangerous the Rolling Stones must have seemed in the 1960s. But this mid-decade hit, that begins and ends in a hail of feedback, with ambiguous lyrics that could be about a girl on the streets, taking drugs, or affairs with people’s mothers, proves that they were mad, bad, and dangerous to know… The memorable horn riff is a sign of the direction that the band would take as the sixties progressed. And just to make sure they got some more attention, the band dragged up for the record sleeve. Lock up your daughters, indeed…
‘Miss You’, reached #3 in 1978
A trio of number threes, now. In the late seventies anybody who was anybody had to try out a disco groove and the Stones were no different, in what was seen as a huge departure for them. The band disagree over whether or not it was originally intended as a disco song – Jagger and Wood say no, Richards says yes – but it certainly ended up as one. (There was an even more disco influenced remix released as a 12″.) Meanwhile, Bill Wyman, whose brilliant bassline holds the whole thing together, has claimed he should have had a writing credit. ‘Miss You’ was their last Billboard #1, and their last UK Top 5 hit.
‘Let’s Spend the Night Together’, reached #3 in 1967
It’s funny – this is one of the Stones’ poppier numbers, and yet one of their most controversial. It’s piano and organ driven, seemingly influenced more by Motown and male vocal groups than the band’s normal R&B touchstones. But lyrics like I’ll satisfy your every need, And now I know you’ll satisfy me… were bound to get folks’ knickers in a twist. Radio stations banned it, and Ed Sullivan insisted that the chorus be changed to ‘let’s spend some time together’, an insistence that the band complied with (though Jagger’s theatrical eye-roll meant they weren’t invited back for a while). In some regions it was twinned with ‘Ruby Tuesday’, though the official records don’t list it as a double-‘A’ in the UK.
‘Not Fade Away’, reached #3 in 1964
Where it all began (almost). This Buddy Holly cover was their 3rd single, and their first Top 10 hit. It’s a lot faster, and beefier, than the original, with a touch of the fuzzy, sloppy sounds of the Rolling Stones in their prime, and Brian Jones’ harmonica acting as lead instrument. It came out in early 1964, right at the start of the British Invasion, when bands like The Beatles and the Stones wore their American rock ‘n’ roll influences loud and proud. It serves almost as a timeline of rock’s rapid development through the fifties and sixties: the Stones covering a Buddy Holly hit, which he’d based on the Bo Diddley riff, which in turn goes all the way back to the dawn of the blues.
‘Brown Sugar’ / ‘Bitch’, reached #2 in 1971
Another all-time Stones classic, this time from ‘Sticky Fingers’, with a great riff, a filthy sax solo, and some famously questionable lyrics. For many years I never paid much attention to the nitty-gritty of the song’s subject matter, because it was such an absolute rocker. But then you actually sit down and read the lyrics about slave ships and whipping women at midnight, and wonder if the song is looking at the matter critically, or just celebrating it. Then again, shouldn’t rock ‘n’ roll be provocative? And they’re far from being the Stones’ worst lyrics (‘Under My Thumb’ and ‘Some Girls’ say ‘Hi’…) As if they knew this song would court controversy, they paired it with a more subtle, reflective number, which they called ‘Bitch’… Some countries also list the record as a triple ‘A’-side, with a live cover of Chuck Berry’s ‘Let It Rock’ as the third track.
’19th Nervous Breakdown’, reached #2 in 1966
Come to think of it, the Stones’ other number two hit is hardly the most sympathetic towards women (Oh who’s to blame, That girl’s just insane…) Lost a little amongst their biggest ’60s hits, ’19th Nervous Breakdown’ is the Stones at their snottiest. The Kinks are always cast as the decade’s social commentators, but songs like this (alongside ‘Satisfaction’, and ‘Mother’s Little Helper’) are just as biting satire. It tells the story of a flighty society girl, running around, getting on everyone’s nerves, always on the verge of yet another breakdown… Though we’re left to ponder how much of that is down to her terrible choice in men. The highlight here is Bill Wyman’s ‘divebombing’ bass in the fade-out…
I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! Back on with the regular countdown next week. Meanwhile, I’m off to give ‘Hackney Diamonds’ a listen…
The 700th UK number one single. My word, haven’t we come far! Not only that, it’s the first #1 of 1994 – officially the mid-90s. Bring. It. On!
Twist and Shout, by Chaka Demus & Pliers with Jack Radics & Taxi Gang (their 1st and only #1s)
2 weeks, from 2nd – 16th January 1994
And it’s pretty fitting that this landmark chart-topper is a reggae song. For all the dance tunes, boyband pop, and the Britpop hits yet to come, I’ve already made the argument that reggae was the sound of 1993-5. And what I like about this, as with Shaggy’s ‘Oh Carolina’, is that it’s pretty uncompromising reggae. This isn’t dub, as heard recently from Ace of Base or UB40; it’s a proper sweaty dancehall track.
‘Twist and Shout’ is a fairly well known tune, mostly in the frantic version the Beatles’ released on their debut album, featuring a famous vocal performance from John Lennon. And so you could be forgiven for wondering if we really needed a reggae version. We definitely do, though. As with all the best cover versions, Chaka Demus and Pliers (a Jamaican DJ and singer) turn it into a completely different song.
The bare bones are still there: the chorus and, most importantly, the ascending aaahs that lead us to it. But beyond that there’s lots of toasting and rapping that neither Lennon, nor the Isley Brothers (who first had a hit with ‘Twist and Shout’ in 1962), could have imagined. Get up and move your body… One time… Pliers sings… Ooh man you drivin’ me crazy… The purists may have frowned, but I think it’s charming, and a lot of fun.
You couldn’t have picked a less likely time of year for this to be a hit, with it reaching the top the day after New Year’s. But we all need a bit of tropical escapism, don’t we, especially in a miserable British January? Plus, Chaka Demus & Pliers had already made the Top 5 twice in 1993 (tease me, tease me… till I lose control…) and this cemented them as Britain’s favourite reggae act.
For the recording, they roped in Jack Radics, who I believe is the gruffer voice you hear on the chorus, and Taxi Gang, a rhythm section associated with Jamaican music legends Sly & Robbie. This gives the song’s credits a very modern look, with four different artists attributed (I think this might have been a record at the time). It was Chaka Demus and Plier’s last big hit in the UK, though they would carry on until 1997, and still get together every now and again.
Every time we reach a century of #1s, it’s always good to take stock. Do they tell us anything about the styles of the time…? Well, in this case, yes. Reggae was enjoying a big resurgence in the charts. It’s certainly more relevant than the 500th #1 (Eurovision cheese from Nicole), or the 400th (Julie Covington’s ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’). The most ‘of its time’, though, remains the 200th: the Beatles’ ‘Help’.
I wrote in my last Take That post of the band’s obvious desire to be more than just teenyboppers, that their cover of ‘Relight My Fire’, and the involvement of Lulu, was proof of them aiming to become Britain’s biggest act, bar none. ‘Babe’, their third number one in under six months is another step in that direction…
Babe, by Take That (their 3rd of twelve #1s)
1 week, from 12th – 19th December 1993
It was also a clear bid for Christmas #1, entering the chart in pole position the week before the big day. But this isn’t the cosy, festive love song you might expect. No sleigh bells and novelty jumpers here. It’s the tale of a lost love, opening with dramatic strings, a disconnected phone call, and a slightly creepy first person narrator. I come to your door, To see you again, But where you once stood, Was an old man instead…
I like a song that tells a story, and that’s what this five-minute epic (another epic!) does. Mark Owen – on lead duties this time – gets her number, and calls. He manages to find out where she now lives, goes down her street… It’s pretty overwrought, with some clunky lines (You held your voice well, There were tears I could tell…), and the unanswered phone call at the beginning and end is pure melodrama.
But, while you can pick holes, this is above and beyond your usual boyband fare. Come the last verse, as she answers the door, the singer sees a little boy: He had my eyes, He had my smile… Plot twist! Why she ran away with his child, clearly never wanting to hear from him again, is not explained – but I’ll give Take That the benefit of the doubt and assume they wanted this sinister ambiguity. I hear more than a hint of menace when the singer announces I tell you I’m back again…
The video suggests that he’s been away at war, but I’m not so sure. I like the creepier reading. It builds to an almost hard rocking climax, before disintegrating into thin air, and a dialling tone. Like I said, it was clearly a bid for Christmas number one, an achievement that would have capped off Take That’s breakthrough year. And when it entered at number one the week before, all bets would have been off…
Except… Blobby, Blobby, Blobby and all that. The pink and yellow one became the first act in twenty-five years to return to the top, and the rest was history. Take That never did get their Xmas #1, though there will be a boyband classic at the top this time next year. Perhaps the fact that it is quite a dark song, which isn’t about cuddling up with your loved one by the fire, also hurt it in the end. ‘Babe’ goes down as an interesting sidebar in Take That’s career: not one of their biggest or best-loved hits, but another sign that they were here for the long run.
From Meat Loaf, to Mr. Blobby. From one larger-than-life epic, to another…
Mr. Blobby, by Mr. Blobby (his 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 5th – 12th December 1993/ 2 weeks, from 19th December 1993 – 2nd January 1994 (3 weeks total)
It’s been a while since I’d last heard this, for obvious reasons, and I thought I’d imagined the farting synths. No, actually, they’re not farting synths. They’re fart sounds. This number one single is built around farts, of the sort seven-year-olds make by blowing into their elbow cracks.
Before we delve any further into this murky swamp, I’d better explain exactly what a Mr Blobby is, for anyone not British, or anyone born in this century. There’s no better place to start than checking the picture embedded at the head of this post. It’s a man in a giant pink and yellow rubber suit, with a perma-grin and googly eyes, who’s only capable of saying ‘blobby’, over and over again in an electronically altered voice. His schtick is that he’s terminally clumsy, and anyone who comes in contact with him will end up flat on the floor and/or with a faceful of something sticky. He rose to fame on ‘Noel’s House Party’, a Saturday evening light entertainment show, set in a fictional mansion named ‘Crinkly Bottom’…
Before we go any further, I must stress that this is a truly heinous piece of music, one that I have no interest in ever hearing again once I’ve finished writing this post. And yet… When this came out, I was that seven-year-old, for whom fart noises, and the sight of Mr. Blobby falling through a drum kit, were the height of comedy. Even now, I’m ashamed to say, the video raises a smile…
In it Mr. Blobby is bathed on a slab, in a recreation of Shakespear’s Sister’s ‘Stay’ video, and leers over his backing band in a recreation of Robert Palmer’s ‘Addicted to Love’, as well as leading a gang of children in what looks like a Satanic ritual. He is chauffeured by Jeremy Clarkson, and has Carol Vorderman as some sort of scientific advisor in his ‘Blobby Factory’. There’s an air of utter anarchy, chaos, not to mention an underlying creepiness (though maybe that’s just the Noel Edmond’s cameo…)
With a lot of the truly terrible #1s that we’ve covered, a large part of what makes them awful is that the writers and performers don’t seem to realise how bad their song is (see ‘No Charge’, or St. Winifred’s, for example). This isn’t the case with ‘Mr. Blobby’ – the creators know they’re unleashing something horrendous on the world, and show a complete lack of contrition. Quite the opposite. So while I’m not going to argue the case for ‘Mr. Blobby’ being any good, I am going to gently suggest that might be one of the few truly punk #1s.
It’s also musically quite… complex? Like the video, the song doesn’t stay with any one sound for long. The farting and the children’s chanting (Blobby, Oh Mr Blobby, Your influence will spread throughout the land…) are constantly interrupted by sudden and incongruous swerves into dance and rap, by key changes and a rising and falling tempo. I jokingly called it an ‘epic’ in my intro, but maybe I wasn’t far off… It’s hyperactive, bright, zany, stupid… It’s ADHD in musical form. Or, rather, it’s a dog whistle for seven-year-olds, who are the only ones for whom this song holds any meaning.
For me, the moment that sums it all up comes towards the end of the video, when there’s footage of Blobby storming out from a helicopter and into the arms of a child, who looks like he’s seen the face of God. It sums up Blobby mania, which culminated here, in him reaching Christmas Number One. He was everywhere: on TV, in panto, in adverts, in a 1994 computer game, even running for election as an MP in 1995 (receiving 0.2% of the vote). Three separate Mr. Blobby theme park attractions were opened over the course of the 1990s, none of which survived the decade…
The fact this made Christmas number one is a story in itself, one that I’ll go into more detail on in my next post. It was initially knocked off the top, before roaring back, and amazingly became the first record in almost twenty-five years to have two separate spells at number one (during the same chart run). This was common in the fifties and sixties, and has become a normal occurrence again in the 21st century, but throughout the entirety of the seventies and eighties no record managed the feat. In terms of returning to number one with a different song, the closest Blobby came was with ‘Christmas in Blobbyland’, which made #36 two years later. He remains active to this day, popping up on ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ just this year…
On the one hand, we have to ask how this became a number one single. How did this outrageous, eight-minute long, barnstorming rock-opera push past the dance and all the Take That to become the biggest seller of the year?
I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That), by Meat Loaf (his 1st and only #1)
7 weeks, from 17th October – 5th December 1993
On the other, we have to ask ‘how could it not?’ What would be the point of a song this huge getting stuck at #23? You put this much time, and money, this many power chords, that many prosthetics on Meat Loaf’s face, then you have to aim for the top. Then there is the fact that it was the lead single from ‘Bat Out of Hell II’, Meat Loaf’s first album in almost a decade, and follow-up to one of the best-selling albums of all time. Maybe the demand and the interest was there…? Or, if we had an imaginary third hand, do we decide not to care why, and just give thanks that it did? The dramatic build-up, the soaring chorus, the sledgehammer duet, the fun innuendo in the title…
It tells the story of a frustrated lover, who would do anything for love, you know it’s true and that’s a fact. Except, for one thing. One thing that turns out to be vital. ‘That’. Many suggestions have been offered as to what ‘that’ is: some philosophical, some slightly more sexual… There’s even a Wikipedia entry on the ‘perceived ambiguity of ‘that’’. The video, directed by Michael Bay with a budget that would be the envy of many a feature film, pads the story out a bit more. Meat Loaf plays a monster, Dana Patrick plays a sexy siren, miming along to lines originally sung by Lorraine Crosby. It’s part ‘Beauty and the Beast’, part Channel 5 soft porn. At the end, the pair escape an approaching police squad on a motorbike. It’s every bit as fun, and as confusing, as the song itself, and I’d suggest a large factor in its success.
Speaking of the female vocalist, she has to wait a while before coming in, but when she does she makes the most of it. Will you cater to every fantasy I’ve got, Will you hose me down with holy water, If I get too hot? Hot! has to be one of the greatest lines ever in a number one single. It’s reminiscent of Meat Loaf’s other epic duets: with Cher on ‘Dead Ringer for Love’ and with Ellen Foley on ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’. Sadly, Crosby – like many of Loaf’s female partners – didn’t get a credit, or any royalties, for her part in the song.
Do we list this as the ‘90s version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’? It’s every bit as epic, though not as genre-hopping. Or is it just a power ballad – possibly the ultimate power ballad? – the likes of which have been popping up at the top of the charts for a decade. The fun had started to fade, with bloated and boring turns by Bryan Adams and Whitney Houston, so Meat Loaf arrives just in time to inject some much needed OTT silliness to the genre. It was, of course, a creation of Jim Steinman, who also had a hand in another contender for best power-ballad ever: ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’.
My only complaint is that it doesn’t build to a crescendo, rather a more gentle finish as the woman lists the ways he’s going to break her heart and he, to my ears anyway, grudgingly agrees. But that’s a minor quibble about a song that has so many soaring peaks over the course of its epic runtime. The UK single edit comes in at 7mins 48s, making this the longest number one single ever at the time, beating ‘Hey Jude’s twenty-five year record. There’s a more manageable five and a half minute edit, and a frankly ridiculous twelve minute version on the album. Meanwhile, following on from Lulu, Meat Loaf becomes the second consecutive forty-something to top the charts (he was forty-six when this made it to the summit).
‘I Would Do Anything for Love’ is glorious, but I don’t think it quite hits the heights of some of the ‘Bat Out of Hell’ tunes. I was raised on that album as a child, and could quite probably sing all seven songs (plus ‘Dead Ringer’ on the deluxe version) word for word. But it did what none of those songs could do, and gave Meat Loaf a number one single… In twenty-eight countries, no less. It was only his second UK Top 10 hit, but he’d go on to have several more in the years that followed, including a #8 for a re-released ‘Bat Out of Hell’ in the wake of this. I saw him in concert in 2007 and, while it was a lot of fun, it was clear that his best days were behind him by then. He continued recording and performing well into his seventies, despite various health issues, remaining a larger than life presence on stage and in interviews, until his death from Covid-19 complications last year.
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.
The UK Number Ones Blog 