711. ‘Sure’, by Take That

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Any act that racks up twelve number ones is going to have some chart-toppers that are better remembered than others… May I present to you, then, Take That’s all-but-forgotten #1.

Sure, by Take That (their 5th of twelve #1s)

2 weeks, from 9th – 23rd October 1994

I’m ‘sure’ I’ve heard this somewhere – the sure, so sure hook in the chorus was familiar – but the rest was a surprise. A pleasant surprise at that. The intro fools you, with lullabying chords suggesting that a syrupy ballad is on its way. But then everything goes a bit funky: with a squelchy bass, and lots of horns and scratchy turntables. If Take That’s previous hits had relied on retro, disco influences – ‘Relight My Fire’ and ‘Everything Changes’ – then ‘Sure’ sees the band turn to modern, American R&B.

Though, in fairness, this new jack swing beat had been around for a while, so they were actually quite late to the party. Still, it’s a solid pop song, and boybands are always at their most bearable when they’re keeping things upbeat. The lyrics are a bit PG, compared to similar acts – it’s been well over three years since Color Me Badd wanted to sex us up. Though there is a reference here to Gary Barlow’s relationship checklist: It’s got to be social, compatible, sexual, irresistible… (Take That’s big ‘rivals’ East 17 were a lot steamier on hits like ‘Deep’, but then they weren’t scoring #1 after #1. Definitely something to be said for keeping it family-friendly.)

Speaking of Mr Barlow, I do wish he’d relinquished lead vocal duty for this one. As fun a song as it is, he just doesn’t convince as a sexy alpha on the record, or when the lads cut a slick dance routine in the video. I’ve written in my previous posts on Take That that he clearly had ambitions above ‘boyband star’ – ambitions that will come to fruition with their next number one – and on the basis of their first five chart-toppers he was clearly the dominant force. Possibly too dominant. Small wonder Robbie wanted to break free…

‘Sure’ was the lead single from the band’s third album, and so was guaranteed to be a massive hit. It got the epic, seven-minute video treatment too. Though in truth half the video tells a very dull story in which the boys babysit a little girl while also trying to get ready for a house party. (Skip forward three and a half minutes if you just want to hear the actual song.) And yet, like I said in the intro, this record feels forgotten among their more famous hits. None more so than their sixth chart-topper: a genuinely huge pop-culture moment, coming along very soon.

710. ‘Saturday Night’, by Whigfield

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After fifteen weeks of ‘Love Is All Around’, I’m sure the nation (including Wet Wet Wet themselves) was happy for literally anything to come along and give us a new number one…

Saturday Night, by Whigfield (her 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 11th Sept – 9th Oct 1994

Well, here with the dictionary definition of the phrase ‘careful what you wish for’, is Danish beauty Whigfield, and her ode to the penultimate night of the week. I innocently thought I’d enjoy hearing this tune again, cheese that it is, while assorted memories of primary school discos came flooding back…

But, alas. It’s a bit crap. The first ten seconds are the most interesting. The famous di-di-da-da-da intro and the quacking synths. Here we go, I think, nostalgia central. Except, as ever, nostalgia ain’t what it used to. The remaining four minutes of ‘Saturday Night’ are repetitive and dull. The banal lyrics – Saturday night and I like the way you move… It’s party time and not one minute we can lose… Be my baby… and some la-di-dahs to fill the gaps… – the banal beat, the banal quacking. I notice that as part of the current ‘the nineties were the best decade ever’ movement, there are attempts to cast this as a ‘90s dance classic, up there with ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’ and ‘Ebeneezer Goode’. But it’s really not.

Not that it’s terrible either. It’s a novelty, but not the most offensive kind. It’s biggest relevance, in chart terms, is in being the ultimate post-summer holiday hit. Presumably played in bars across the continent all summer, it smashed straight in at number one when finally released at the start of September. Oh, and there’s the fact that in entering at #1, Whigfield became the first act to have their debut single do so.

As with Alice Cooper, and Marilyn Manson (two artists to whom I didn’t expect to be drawing a comparison today) people make the mistake of referring to Whigfield as the singer rather than the band (or ‘musical project’ as Wikipedia refers to them). The singer, Sannie Charlotte Carlson, was Danish, and the producers were Italian. Carlson, though, was the very pretty star of the show. I’m sure the video, in which she prances around in a towel, getting ready for a big night out, did the song’s chances no harm. Whigfield would go on to have just two further Top 10 hits, though Carlson continues to record and perform.

I think another reason writing this post didn’t bring about a warm Proustian glow is that my repeated plays of ‘Saturday Night’ have reminded me of the dance routine. Interestingly, Carlson doesn’t do the dance in the video, and the craze seems to have stemmed from her backing dancers when she performed on Top of the Pops. However it started though, it quickly caught on, and the social anxiety that came from the being nine-years-old and the only person in the school who couldn’t do it properly remains to this day (see also: ‘The Macarena’).

709. ‘Love Is All Around’, by Wet Wet Wet

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The charts of the first half of the 1990s have had many stories to tell: interesting one-hit wonders, new sounds coming, old sounds going, acts appearing and becoming huge… And yet from a certain angle it can look like the period was dominated by just three songs, all from film soundtracks, which together spent forty-one weeks atop the charts. (Set back to back that would stretch for over nine months, a period in which you could conceive, gestate, and birth a human child…)

Love Is All Around, by Wet Wet Wet (their 3rd and final #1)

15 weeks, from 29th May – 11th Sept 1994

We’ve already endured Bryan Adams and Whitney, and now here is the third and final chart-hogging behemoth. And thankfully it’s the best of the three, by far. It’s not an overwrought power-ballad, for a start. More a low-power ballad, with some jaunty flourishes among the cheesy sentiments and Marti Pellow’s over-singing.

I like the woozy fills before the chorus, and the way the band manage to update a song from the sixties with just enough nineties rock touches: a string section, some power chords, and a soaring guitar for the fade-out. ‘Love Is All Around’ was originally recorded by the Troggs, making #5 in 1967. This gave Reg Presley a writing credit on a second #1, after the band’s 1966 #1 ‘With a Girl Like You’. (Rather brilliantly, he spent the unexpected royalties on crop circle research…)

The fact that it’s a more upbeat number than its ginormous predecessors is also reflected in the movie it came from. ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’ was a rom-com, compared to the epic ‘Robin Hood – Prince of Thieves’ and the slushy ‘Bodyguard’. For the soundtrack, Wet Wet Wet were asked to choose between covering this, Barry Manilow’s ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ and Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’ (which would have been interesting…) ‘Love Is All Around’ was, I’d imagine, an easy choice for the pop-rocking Wets.

As much as this record is a relief after the other two long-runners, I shouldn’t overstate its quality. It’s fine. It’s serviceable. It’s a decently done cover. Nothing more. The original has a low-key charm to it that this version cannot reproduce with its lush production, and the fact that Marti Pellow doesn’t do ‘low-key’. And of course, we can’t ignore that it far outstayed its welcome on top of the charts. You often hear talk about ‘The Song of the Summer’. Never has it been quite as literal as this, with the record on top from late-May to early-September.

By the end of its run, some radio stations were refusing to play it. The band were well aware of the record becoming a millstone around their necks, and deleted it from production. ‘We did everyone’s head in’, Pellow succinctly summed up. This meant that it fell one week short of matching Adams’ record for consecutive weeks at #1. ‘Love Is All Around’, however, did outsell both Adams and Houston in the long run, and currently sits at almost two million copies (number eleven in the all-time sales table).

This song’s success didn’t completely sour Wet Wet Wet’s reputations in the UK. They wouldn’t again make number one, but they scored five further Top 10s before splitting in 1997 after a dispute over royalties. They reformed a decade later, and continue touring and recording with two of the four original members.

708. ‘Come On You Reds’, by The Manchester United Football Squad

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After Tony Di Bart and Stiltskin, we smash one in at the near post to complete a hattrick of long-forgotten number ones…

Come On You Reds, by The Manchester United Football Squad (their 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 15th – 29th May 1994

A song featuring Britain’s most popular football team, and one of our longest-lasting rock acts, shouldn’t necessarily be consigned to the history books. And yet we’re probably all glad that this record never became as ubiquitous as some football songs. Because, even against the low bar set by most singing footballers, it’s pretty crap.

All the classic tropes are there. Piped-in crowd noises, commentary clips (‘Which number one single features Jonathon Pearce?’ would make a great pub quiz question), athletes looking far outside their comfort zones sharing a microphone in the video, lyrics that were probably scribbled out on the back of a beer mat: Come on you reds, Come on you reds, Just keep your bottle and use your heads… One verse, in fact, is literally just the team sheet: Robson, Kanchelskis and Giggs…

But away from all that, this is actually a fairly interesting number one. It is, to start with, Status Quo’s lost chart-topper. The records show that they have just the one – 1975’s ‘Down, Down’ – but this record was written and produced by the band, and is based on their 1988 hit ‘Burning Bridges’ (the ‘jig’ portion of which was in turn based on an old folk song called ‘Darby Kelly’). That isn’t one of my favourite Quo songs; but one of the few things that could have redeemed this tripe was if they had received a credit on the sleeve.

In footballing terms, it’s also a bit of a time capsule. It was released in advance of Utd’s FA Cup final against Chelsea (who released their own record for the game, making #23), and the idea that reaching the FA Cup final would merit a song seems bizarre in the modern football world. In fact, teams don’t record songs any more. No modern Premier League player would be seen dead singing along to cheesy lyrics written by some crusty old rockers. Which is both a slightly sad thing, and a great relief.

There have of course been two football number ones before this (‘Back Home’ and ‘World in Motion’) and a few more to come. But they are all songs about England, released ahead of World Cups and European Championships, with a whole country ready and willing to buy the record. ‘Come on You Reds’ is the only #1 by a club side, and they followed it up with two #6 hits for the ’95 and ’96 finals. Yes, not only did Man Utd dominate football in the nineties, they dominated the charts. No wonder we all hate them…

In case anyone is interested, the next biggest football club hits are Chelsea’s ‘Blue Is the Colour’ (#5 in 1972), Spurs’ ‘Ossie’s Dream’ (#5 in 1981), and Liverpool’s legendary ‘Anfield Rap’ (#3 in 1988). Back in the charts of 1994 though, and I’d have to say that the spring of this year has thrown up a run of fairly flash-in-the-pan, forgotten hits: ‘Doop’, ‘The Real Thing’, ‘Inside’, and now this. Up next, however, is a song that stayed at the top so long we had no choice but to remember every note…

(This video sadly cuts the last thirty seconds off the song… But you’ll have gotten the gist by then… It also features footage of the 1994 FA Cup final, suggesting it was produced after the record had made #1.)

707. ‘Inside’, by Stiltskin

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In my previous post, I wrote that Tony Di Bart’s ‘The Real Thing’ must have been the most recent #1 that I’d never previously heard. Well, the very next chart-topper is probably just as forgotten…

Inside, by Stiltskin (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 8th – 15th May 1994

Luckily, though, my dad once owned a ‘Best Rock Album Ever…’ sort of compilation released sometime around 1994. In amongst all the Free, the Boston, and the Blue Oyster Cult, the compilers had clearly felt the need for something more contemporary. What better track to include, then, than that year’s big rock hit: Stiltskin’s ‘Inside’. Which means that this lumpy, grungy, one-hit wonder takes me right back to my childhood.

This should be a pretty cool moment for chart watchers. Grunge was the sound of the early-nineties, though it had never troubled the top of the charts until now. (By May ’94, the genre was on its last legs, Kurt Cobain having died just a month earlier…) Anyway, this is a very heavy, very sweaty, very hairy number one single, the hardest rocking since Iron Maiden brought our daughters to the slaughter. Listening to it now, for the first time in two decades, the chorus is a classic of the genre.

But it also feels a little like Grunge-by-AI. Listen and you can hear rip-offs of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ in the quiet-loud chorus, and ‘Black Hole Sun’ in the two chiming notes during the verses. I swear to God there’s something by Pearl Jam buried in there, too, though I can’t quite root it out. People online have compared it to ‘Today’ by Smashing Pumpkins, but I don’t personally hear it. Basically, the songwriters have taken elements of the best grunge bands, smushed them up, and made a pretty decent song.

The lyrics are apparently based on Plato’s ‘allegory of the cave’, making this potentially the first UK #1 to reference the ancient Greek philosopher. To my ears, though, it sounds like the worst sort of Year 9 poetry: Strong words in a Ganges sky, I have to lie, Shadows move in pairs… culminating in the motivational slogan: If you believe it, Don’t keep it all inside… (To be fair, I was a fan of the fat man starts to fall line as a kid…)

‘Inside’ also loses a few more street-cred points from the fact that the song was written to order for a Levi’s jeans commercial (making this the fourth number one to come from a Levi’s ad, though the first that isn’t a re-release of an older track). A man called Peter Lawler wrote the song, and plays all the instruments on this recording. He needed a vocalist, and after some auditions found Ray Wilson, a Scottish singer/guitarist. This first incarnation of the band released only one album, and two more low-charting singles, but they reformed and have carried on to this day, in an ever-changing line-up with Wilson as the only constant. (He also spent four years as lead-singer for Genesis, replacing Phil Collins.)

‘Inside’ was probably fortunate to find itself on a compilation called ‘Best Rock Album Ever’ – right place, right time – and is similarly fortunate to hold the title of the UK’s sole grunge chart-topper. But variety is the spice of life, and I’m glad it sneaked its week at number one. Sadly, the fate that confirms once and for all if a record has been lost to the mists of time has indeed befallen ‘Inside’… It’s not on Spotify.

706. ‘The Real Thing’, by Tony Di Bart

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Well, I didn’t expect this. To get to May 1994 and come across a number one hit I have genuinely never heard before…

The Real Thing, by Tony Di Bart (his 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 1st – 8th May 1994

This record both is, and isn’t, your average mid-nineties dance tune. It’s a banger, all throbbing synths and a bassline that goes right through you, but it’s main references aren’t techno, or Eurodance. It looks back to the house tunes of the late-eighties – meaning it probably qualifies as retro already – and in the beat and the piano chords it nods even further back, to the days of disco.

It’s a slow-build sort of song. I was about to write it off as bland on first listen, but on my second I heard a hook buried in the melancholy chords, and by the third listen I was intrigued. There’s something there. Despite its retro influences, it feels very modern. If I can’t have you, I don’t want nobody baby… Most dance hits in the mid-nineties were euphoric, in-your-face – the likes of 2 Unlimited and Snap! springing to mind. ‘Dancing through the tears’ is a very 21st century concept, popularised by acts like Robyn, and The Weeknd. The latter of whom I bring up, because Tony Di Bart sounds remarkably like Abel Tesfaye, with his falsetto, and the longing in his voice.

The man known as The Weeknd counting Tony Di Bart as an influence seems unlikely, given that ‘The Real Thing’ was the only Top 20, and one of only two Top 40 hits, Di Bart managed. Neither of which did very much in North America. This single hadn’t done much initially in the UK either, when it was released in November 1993. It took a remix to send it up the charts, and that’s why I haven’t attached a video below: none seems to have been made for the much more atmospheric remix. (Listen to the original version here.)

As Italian as Antonio Carmine Di Bartolomeo AKA Tony Di Bart sounds, he was actually from Slough. His Wikipedia page is sparse, with few details given as to how he went from selling bathrooms to the top of the charts. His post-fame entries make for sad reading: one of his more recent public appearances was at a village fête in Buckinghamshire, before he was arrested and pleaded guilty to assaulting a police officer earlier this year.

Still, assault charges or no assault charges, you can’t take away the fact that Tony Di Bart has a number one single. One that is actually quite good, the more you listen and get lost in its wistful synths. Up next, an equally forgotten one-week wonder…

705. ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’, by Prince

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The list of superstar artists with underwhelming singles chart records is long, and complex. There’s Led Zeppelin, who simply didn’t bother releasing them. There’s Chuck Berry, whose ding-a-ling made number one two decades after he’d helped invent rock and roll. There’s Stevie Wonder, whose two chart-toppers don’t begin to do his talent justice…

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, by Prince (his 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 17th April – 1st May 1994

Then there’s Prince – the star with possibly the biggest disparity between talent and number one hits. Not that he has a terrible overall chart record in the UK: seventeen Top 10 hits is nothing to be sniffed at. But only this one chart-topper (the 2nd biggest hit of his long career, apparently…)

And I’m just going to come out and say it… For ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’ to be Prince’s only #1 is as big a travesty as ‘My Ding-A-Ling’. It might even be bigger. At least Berry’s novelty is dumb fun. This is syrupy, over-produced tripe, with some queasy lyrics… It’s plain to see, You’re the reason that God made a girl… The fact that the song debuted on the 1994 Miss USA pageant speaks volumes.

As I listen, all I can think of is all the brilliant Prince tunes that came and went without making #1… And not only is this dull, it’s disappointingly chaste. This from a man who recorded songs like ‘Soft and Wet’, ‘Cream’, and ‘Sexy MF’. There’s a spoken-word portion, as in all the worst love songs, in which Prince semi-raps: And if the stars ever fell, One by one from the sky…

It leads on to the most enjoyable bit of the song though, in which Prince provides his own backing vocals in a deep voice before launching back into his more famous falsetto. The song’s odd sound effects – tears dripping, clocks ticking, birds twittering – are interesting too. These moments are where we come closest to the fun, creative-chameleon Prince, who’s sorely missing from the rest of this sludge.

Of course, ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’ isn’t technically a ‘Prince’ song. It came at the start of his ‘Love Symbol’ period, AKA the time he was known as ‘The Artist Formerly Known as Prince’, as part of a rebellion against his Warner Brothers contract. He felt they were holding him back, insisting that he chill out and release albums more sporadically. Interestingly, this single – one of his most successful – was released on a small, independent label, rather than Warner Bros. The corresponding album didn’t see the light of day for another year and a half, and is still involved in a lawsuit over plagiarism involving ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’ and an Italian song called ‘Takin’ Me to Paradise’.

Prince does already have two other chart-toppers to his name as a songwriter. Two classics: Chaka Khan’s ‘I Feel for You’ and Sinead O’Connor’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’. And of course there’s ‘Purple Rain’, ‘When Doves Cry’, ‘Kiss’… So many that I might have to do a post on Prince’s nearly-number-ones. All these hits kick this one into the long grass… And yet. The charts often don’t play nice…

704. ‘Everything Changes’, by Take That

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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…?

703. ‘Doop’, by Doop

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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.

702. ‘Without You’, by Mariah Carey

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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…