Cover Versions of #1s… Kingmaker & Jesus and Mary Chain

As in my two previous Cover Versions of #1s posts, I’m returning to Ruby Trax, a compilation released in 1992 to celebrate the 40th anniversaries of both the NME and the UK singles chart.

It’s a veritable gold mine of weird and wonderful covers of chart-topping hits by the big (and not so big) acts of the day. While this is the last time I’m going to feature these Trax, for a while at least, the album is definitely worth checking out if you enjoyed the covers by Bob Geldof and Sinead O’Connor, or Suede and Manic Street Preachers.

And of course, for a compilation of tracks celebrating number one singles, there had to be room for some interesting interpretations of Britain’s two greatest groups, the Beatles and the Stones. Some might say they are sacrosanct, I say have at them!

Probably sensibly, both covers are of the legendary acts’ less famous number ones. And it’s quite fun to hear ‘Lady Madonna’, famously Paul McCartney’s boogie-woogie tribute to Fats Domino, reimagined for guitars. Or maybe its because my favourite bit of the original is when George Harrison’s snarling guitar comes in for the second verse. At the same time, despite the switch in lead instrument, this is a fairly faithful cover.

I had never heard of Kingmaker before writing this post, and going by the limited number of views the above video has had on YouTube I think they’ve very much been consigned to the pre-Britpop dustbin. It seems they were nearly the next big thing back in the 1992-93, with a couple of #15 hits and tours with Radiohead and Suede as their support acts, before a falling out with their record label.

A much bigger name are ’80s shoegaze icons, and East Kilbride’s finest, The Jesus and Mary Chain. Their scuzzy, distorted, feedback drenched take on ‘Little Red Rooster’, the Stones’ 2nd #1 back in 1964, is a much more impressive proposition. The song dates back to the early sixties, written by Willie Dixon and made famous by Howlin’ Wolf, and despite all the noise-pop dressing the JAMC sensibly keep that driving blues riff as the song’s focal point.

‘Little Red Rooster’ may or may not be a phallic metaphor (the Stones’ version wasn’t released as a single in the US allegedly because of this), but the Jesus and Mary Chain replace bawdiness with menace. You would not be messing with this particular little red rooster on the prowl, who isn’t so much horny as he is looking for a fight.

If you are interested in hearing more of this album, it can be a bit tricky to Trax down, with many of the forty songs not available on Spotify or YouTube, at least not in great quality uploads. But if the idea of EMF covering ‘Shaddap You Face’, or Boy George doing ‘My Sweet Lord’, Vic Reeves doing ‘Vienna’ (they bent the rules to include that one…) or Billy Bragg covering The Three Degrees appeals to you, or at least sounds morbidly fascinating, then do have a browse. The full forty-track listing is here, on the LP’s Wikipedia page.

919. ‘Hero’, by Enrique Iglesias

I press play on our next number one, and I start to feel the bile rising the second Enrique Iglesias whispers: Let me be your hero…

Hero, by Enrique Iglesias (his 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 27th January – 24th February 2002

I’ve never liked this song, right from the time it was spending an interminable month on top of the charts. There may be external reasons for this hate, which we’ll get to shortly, but even before those external reasons came along I thought this was overwrought garbage. It feels like a leftover nineties power-ballad; even though it isn’t a power-ballad, at least not until the final chorus. Beef it up a bit, though, and it’s ‘Always’ by Bon Jovi. And there are few worse insults than that, in my book.

For most of its runtime, ‘Hero’ is a Spanish-guitar tinged love song. Enrique delivers it in a tremulous, hiccupping manner he must have thought would make him sound overcome with emotion, but to me it sounds like he’s gagging over the words, like a cat hacking up a big hairball. Though to be fair, gagging is the reasonable response to this bilge.

The best bit is the understated Latin guitar solo, which is not a sound we hear very often on top of the charts. Note that it is also the bit where Enrique shuts up. The funny thing is, I quite like some of his songs. He tended to be pretty listenable, and fun, when he kept things upbeat. ‘Hero’ though, remains his signature song, for English-speakers at least.

I remember the video quite well too, and Enrique cavorting with Jennifer Love-Hewitt before being beaten to death by Mickey Rourke. He had a habit of casting beautiful women in his videos, with tennis player Anna Kournikova appearing in the follow-up ‘Escape’. To be fair, they’ve been in a relationship ever since, which will have ruined Enrique’s chances of equalling his father’s body count (over 3000, apparently). But, they do here become the first father and son to top the UK charts, Julio having made it twenty years earlier with ‘Begin the Beguine’.

The other reason why I can’t stand ‘Hero’, and which may be clouding my judgement of an undoubtedly popular song, is that it will forever remind me of the death of a school friend. He died suddenly, when we were nineteen, and this played as we left the funeral service. Thing is, there is no way he would have chosen this song for his funeral. He’d probably never once thought about what song he’d want played at his funeral. What nineteen-year-old would? It was clearly just a CD of mood-appropriate music owned by the crematorium. (The other song I remember playing was Aerosmith’s ‘Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing’, another one I now cannot stand). I think that’s incredibly sad, having a song you don’t like played at your funeral. Better to have silence. Ever since, though I’ve not made an official list, I’ve dropped regular hints to those who listen that I’d like certain songs played at my funeral. I won’t say what they are here, not wanting to tempt fate, but rest assured if Enrique Iglesias’s ‘Hero’ is played, whoever is responsible will be getting haunted, mercilessly.

918. ‘My Sweet Lord’, by George Harrison

In the only occasion two posthumously released records (by two different artists) have made #1 consecutively, George Harrison replaces Aaliyah

My Sweet Lord, by George Harrison (his 2nd and final #1)

1 week, from 20th – 27th January 2002

It would feel odd to review the song, as I already did so five years ago: ‘My Sweet Lord’ having spent five weeks at #1 in 1971. So, I’d rather direct you towards my original post, despite the fact that I was a bit harsh on it. I claimed it ‘doesn’t really go anywhere’ and, while I get what I meant, I now realise that that is entirely the point of the song. It’s a euphoric chant, a mantra, an incantation. It is a beautiful song, despite my complete irreligiosity. In my book, it is by far the best solo-Beatle number one.

Harrison had died from cancer in November 2001, and thus ‘My Sweet Lord’ was given a rerelease. It means that the line I really wanna see you Lord, But it takes so long, My Lord… now hits differently, assuming that it originally referred to a religious awakening. But it is a fitting, and obvious tribute.

And it is the fact that it was a deliberate release, as a tribute, that means I’m featuring this as the 918th number one single, and not a belated return for the 296th. Like ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ before it, again rereleased following the death of its creator, ‘My Sweet Lord’ becomes only the second song to return to #1 in a rerelease (though BoRap was paired with ‘These Are the Days of Our Lives’).

This is something that needs clarifying as we move further into the 21st century. Soon there will be a series of Elvis rereleases making the top of the charts, and again they’ll be treated as ‘new’ number ones. However, when ‘Three Lions’, and then two Christmas perennials, return to number one later in the century they will not be gifted such special status as they are simply a case of the original hit returning to the charts. In fact, the streaming era has basically killed off the idea of the rerelease, as (almost) everything is now on permanent release via your streaming platform of choice.

Hope that makes sense. Anyway, let’s just enjoy this classic re-appearing at number one, completely out of place in the early ‘00s soundscape. It is also worth noting this fact: ‘My Sweet Lord’ remains one of only two truly solo UK #1s that any of the four Beatles enjoyed during their lifetimes!

917. ‘More Than a Woman’, by Aaliyah

We start 2002 with two posthumous number ones, almost like how at the Oscars they do an ‘In Memorandum’ segment. Which pop stars did we lose in the past year?

More Than a Woman, by Aaliyah (her 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 13th – 20th January 2002

Well, we had lost prodigal R&B star Aaliyah in a plane crash back in August, aged just twenty-two. ‘More Than a Woman’ was her first single to be released in the UK since her death, and is a very modern, very of the moment slice of American pop.

It’s cut from the same cloth as earlier Destiny’s Child and Jennifer Lopez #1s, with an almost classical riff playing over a staccato beat. One reviewer at the time described it as ‘Baroque liquid funk’, which is a great description, if a little over the top. It does though, have a bit more beef to it than DC and J-Lo. I especially like the dirty, squelchy synths, which elevate this above some of the other US recent R&B tracks I’ve struggled to enjoy, and which take centre-stage in an extended, funky fade-out.

I was going to accuse this record of not having a real hook, but the more I play it the more it grows on me. And I’ll admit that the strange, slightly off-kilter chorus has stayed in my brain ever since it was in the charts. It’s oddly catchy. In the very ‘of its time’ video, Aaliyah and her backing dancers work it in what looks to be the inside of a combustion engine, and the churning pistons fit the thick and deliberate beat nicely.

Although this probably only got to number one as a tribute, it isn’t hard to imagine ‘More Than a Woman’ spending a January week at #1 even with Aaliyah alive and well. She had been a regular chart presence since her debut in 1994, aged just fifteen. (She was R Kelly’s protégé, something that’s come under more scrutiny since his offences came to light). Her biggest song, ‘Try Again’, had been her only US #1, and only previous British Top 10 hit, in 2000.

She was also a long-time collaborator with Timbaland, meaning that this is the first chart-topping appearance for one of the 2000’s defining producers. After ‘More Than a Woman’, for sadly obvious reasons, the hits dried up for Aaliyah. Her legacy seems to be one of what might have been, for an experimental and talented artist who had already been dubbed the ‘Princess of R&B’.

In part two of our posthumous double-header, she was replaced at the top by another recently deceased artist, whose legacy had long since been established…

916. ‘Somethin’ Stupid’, by Robbie Williams & Nicole Kidman

If someone stopped me in the street and demanded an answer to the question: ‘Does Nicole Kidman have a UK number one single to her name?’, chances are I’d panic and say ‘no’. The existence of this record always passes me by…

Somethin’ Stupid, by Robbie Williams (his 5th of seven #1s) & Nicole Kidman

3 weeks, from 16th December 2001 – 6th January 2002

Yet Nicky K does have a number one, and not just any old number one: a Christmas number one. Why did this happen? It seems incongruous now, looking back, but there must have been a reason for this combo, which we can explore in a bit.

First, though, the song. And it’s a pretty faithful cover of the Frank ‘n’ Nancy classic. A bit more of a bossa nova beat, perhaps, while I don’t personally think it suits Robbie’s voice very well. It’s not that he can’t compete with Sinatra – who wasn’t an amazing singer – more that this song forces a restraint on him that doesn’t work. Kidman, meanwhile, is fine, purring her way through, though I’m not sure you’d ever work out that it was her unless told. They harmonise well, however, it has to be said.

It is far, far from the worst musical crime to be committed at Christmas. The worst accusation you could level at this record is that it’s underwhelming, and fairly superfluous while the original still exists. But we’ve been saying that a lot recently, about covers of golden-oldies which have made #1. And hey, unlike the original, at least Robbie and Nicole aren’t blood relations…

This was the lead single from Robbie’s ‘Swing When You’re Winning’ album of jazz and swing standards, which kicked off a good decade-long resurgence for the genre. Think Rod Stewart’s Great American Songbooks, and endless ‘Big Band Weeks’ on X-Factor. But why Nicole Kidman? There were rumours that she and Robbie may have been an item, but it’s probably as simple as her having starred in the year’s big musical hit ‘Moulin Rouge’, and also having charted earlier in the year with ‘Come What May’, in which she duetted with co-star Ewan McGregor.

And so we come to the end of 2001. Suddenly we’re two whole years into the twenty-first century! And only twenty-three years away from the present day… It’s all getting a bit close. What to make of 2001: a chart odyssey? It hasn’t been a classic year for chart-toppers, if we’re honest. The few classics have been padded out with lots of cheap and cheerful cheese, and it’s felt like a step down from the cool highs of the Year 2000. Heading into 2002 I’m not sure things are going to improve, as we’re about to go into Reality TV overdrive…

915. ‘Gotta Get Thru This’, by Daniel Bedingfield

After working our way through several UK garage #1s, of varying quality, we arrive at the ultimate early-noughties garage anthem…

Gotta Get Thru This, by Daniel Bedingfield (his 1st of three #1s)

2 weeks, from 2nd – 16th December 2001 / 1 week, from 6th – 13th January 2002 (3 weeks total)

That feels like a controversial statement, because garage is a genre of the streets, for young, black kids; whereas Daniel Bedingfield always seemed very white and very middle-class. And he isn’t even British! He’s a Kiwi. Maybe the fact that I’m classing this as the ‘ultimate early-noughties garage anthem’ shows how middle-aged and middle-class I am…

But that’s fine, because it’s a good song. And it still, surprisingly, feels fresh. It blends the garage beats with some nice dance touches, and a big pop sensibility. It’s not confronting, it’s not annoying – unlike some earlier garage chart-toppers – but it doesn’t lose its credibility. (Though, the spelling of ‘through’ as ‘thru’ in the title does come off as trying a little too hard to be ‘with it’.)

My main complaint with 2-step, garage songs is that the beat can be too light, too lacking in oomph. Bedingfield recorded this in his bedroom, using a mic and his PC, and pressed a few early copies which he sent out to DJs. For the label release, D’N’D Productions helped with remixing, and I’m not sure how responsible they were for the beefed up, poppier feel that this has compared to the earlier garage #1s.

‘Gotta Get Thru This’ is also refreshingly short, coming in at well under three minutes, which is another thing that makes it feel very modern. At 2:42, it is the shortest #1 since Robson & Jerome’s ‘I Believe’. And if we (happily) ignore that record’s existence, it is the shortest, semi-relevant chart-topper since Kylie’s ‘Tears on My Pillow’ twelve years before.

Perhaps another aspect of my reluctance to crown Daniel Bedingfield as champion of UK garage is that this record, his debut, wasn’t totally representative of his ‘sound’. His two further number ones are a lot more middle-of-the-road, a lot more mum-friendly (though this is certainly as mum-friendly as garage ever got). He released an impressive six singles – in a variety of genres – from his first album, across almost two years, and five of them made the Top 10.

Another noteworthy thing here is that when ‘Gotta Get Thru This’ returned to the top in the second week of January 2002, it did so with the lowest-ever sales for a number one single (around 25,500 copies). That was a sign of things to come, as the CD-single boom came to a rapid end, and is a record that will be ‘bettered’ by thirteen further #1s between now and 2008, when downloads eventually started to overtake physical sales.

Remembering Jimi Hendrix

Today, September 18th, marks fifty-five years since the death of perhaps the greatest rock guitarist of all time, Jimi Hendrix.

Hendrix’s death in 1970, due to an overdose of barbituates, granted him marquee status in the 27 Club, and also brought about his one and only UK chart-topper. ‘Voodoo Chile’, a previously unreleased track, was released in the wake of his death and spent a week at #1, becoming one of the hardest rocking tracks ever to do so.

It’s fitting that he did manage a posthumous moment on top of the British charts, because he had been consistently more successful in the UK than in his homeland. In fact, Hendrix had moved to London in 1966, after spells in the US Army and then as a backing guitarist for the Isley Brothers and Little Richard. In London he and his manager, Chas Chandler of the Animals, put together a band: The Jimi Hendrix Experience, with Noel Redding on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. Their first single was a cover of ‘Hey Joe’, making #6 in early 1967.

The origins of ‘Hey Joe’ are disputed, but despite the first released version being by The Leaves just two years earlier, it had fast become a garage-rock classic, with versions by the Surfaris, the Byrds, and Love before Hendrix’s definitive take. Compare its thick chords and raw production with the poppier acts of the day. It must have sounded wild, with its tale of a man on his way to shoot his unfaithful lover. The follow-up single, ‘Purple Haze’, then gave Hendrix the biggest hit of his lifetime.

It made #3 in May of 1967. Sitting above it in the chart were ‘Puppet on a String’ and ‘Somethin’ Stupid’, both classics of the time, but both blown out of the water by the bloodthirsty energy of this record. Anything released in 1967 with ‘haze’ in the title was going to encourage rumours concerning it being about drugs. Hendrix, though, describes it as a love song. The intro in particular is razor sharp, and jarring. Apparently a dissonant interval such as this is known as diabolus en musica i.e. “Devil in music”. Which is pretty much the most aptly rock ‘n’ roll description going.

Hot on ‘Purple Haze’s heels came The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s third Top 10 in less than six months. Jazzy ballad ‘The Wind Cries Mary’ was recorded in twenty minutes, and was allegedly inspired after an argument with Hendrix’s girlfriend Kathy ‘Mary’ Etchingham over lumpy mashed potatoes. Such an innucuous start for a lyrically dense love song, proof that he was more than just a virtuoso guitar player.

The final Top 10 hit of Hendrix’s short life came a year later, with a cover of Bob Dylan’s ‘All Along the Watchtower’. Despite it being the song most performed by Dylan in concert, it remains synonymous with Hendrix. Here he is performing it at the Isle of Wight Festival in 1970, just weeks before his death.

Rolling Stone Brian Jones, another rock star not long for this world, contributed to the percussion on this track, including the rattles in the intro played on the brilliantly named ‘vibraslap’. Ever since this cover was released, Dylan has peformed it in the style of a tribute to Hendrix.

‘All Along the Watchtower’ was lead single from the Experience’s third album in fourteen months, ‘Electric Ladyland’. In his recording career of barely four years, Hendrix released a total of three studio albums, a live album, and a greatest hits. The final single to chart in his lifetime was not a huge hit (#37), but is my personal favourite: ‘Crosstown Traffic’.

It’s bluesy, it’s psychedelic, it’s headbanging… and yet it’s got a brilliant pop hook. And despite being the greatest guitarist of his age, Hendrix wasn’t ashamed to go back to basics with a paper and comb to make that distinctive riff. That feels like it sums him up: supremely talented, precocious, lyrically mystical, but with an ear for a simple sledgehammer riff and a Top 40 hook. Who knows where the 1970s would have taken Hendrix, had he been around to enjoy them…

Jimi Hendrix, 27th November 1942 – 18th September 1970

914. ‘Have You Ever’, by S Club 7

Our third pop ballad in a row… Bear with us, as this is the last ballad for a (short) while at least…

Have You Ever, by S Club 7 (their 4th and final #1)

1 week, from 25th November – 2nd December 2001

After the success of ‘Never Had a Dream Come True’ a year ago, making #1 and raising lots of money for Children in Need, it makes sense that S Club would have another crack at it. It also feels a little cynical, if you’ll allow: as if they were padding out their chart-topping stats with songs that aren’t remembered as well as some of their other hits.

Compared to the previous two pop ballads, I’d plonk this in the middle. It’s fresher, more modern, less of a slog than Westlife’s ‘Queen of My Heart’; but it doesn’t have the energy of Blue’s ‘If You Come Back’. Musically it is quite similar to the Blue ballad, though, with a skittish R&B beat and a powerhouse vocal performance from Jo O’Meara. I never realised at the time how much she dominated many of S Club’s singles, to the extent that you have to wonder why they needed six other members…

This record also suffers from being the ‘follow-up’ to ‘Never Had a Dream Come True’, which I think is the better ballad, and to ‘Don’t Stop Movin’’, which is one of the decade’s great pop songs. ‘Have You Ever’ feels like an afterthought to both these records. And can I take a moment to bemoan song titles that are questions, but don’t have a question mark? This is far from the first example…

Though S Club 7’s two Children in Need singles topped the charts, and sold a surprisingly identical number of copies in debuting at #1, ‘Never Had a Dream Come True’ was the year 2000’s 9th biggest seller, while ‘Have You Ever’ was 2001’s 21st biggest. Which feels about right. Apparently, though, this song holds the record for the number of voices used in a single recording, as when the band performed the song live for CIN, they were joined by six school choirs via video link, and 3610 other schools on tape, plus spin off group S Club Juniors (two of whom we’ll meet as chart-toppers down the line).

S Club 7 released one further single before Paul Cattermole quit, and they became plain old S Club. The band split in 2003, having managed the impressive feat of charting in the Top 5 with all eleven of their singles. Their post-split careers were a mixed bag of solo success (Rachel Stevens), racism scandals (O’Meara) and student union tours (Bradley McIntosh), while Cattermole declared bankruptcy and Hannah Spearritt claimed to have been made homeless. They reformed in 2023, but Cattermole sadly died of heart failure a few weeks later, aged just forty-six. They are still touring, though, and are currently an S Club 5, with Spearritt having opted out of the comeback. And I’d say that for people of my vintage, no matter how cool they thought they were (or think they still are…), at least one or two S Club tunes hold a place in their hearts.

913. ‘If You Come Back’, by Blue

The boyband third single rule (it has to be a ballad) and the boyband single-for-Christmas rule (it has to be a ballad) combine here… In a big old ballad.

If You Come Back, by Blue (their 2nd of three #1s)

1 week, from 18th – 25th November 2001

At the end of my previous post, I hoped that this next chart-topping ballad would be better than Westlife’s dull ‘Queen of My Heart’. And it is. That much is evident from the modern hip-hop, garage-y backing beat – the lovechild of Atomic Kitten and Craig David – and the fact that Blue still sound quite keen and perky, as if they haven’t yet become jaded after years of being flogged to line Louis Walsh’s pockets.

I did consider claiming that Blue were better singers than Westlife, but I’m not sure that’s what’s happening here. They do sound fresher, but maybe that’s down to this being their second #1, as opposed to their ninth. They’re also let off the leash a little more than Westlife, who had to follow their tried and tested formula to the letter.

Blue’s exuberance gets the better of them, though, and some parts of this record amount to over-singing, as if they were still auditioning, uncertain of their places in the band. Understated confidence, and a more delicate, R&B touch would have perhaps served the song better. At the same time, though, it’s enjoyable to hear them going for it. Lee Ryan especially, who I would contend had the best voice of any nineties-cum-noughties boyband member.

But, just because it is better than ‘Queen of My Heart’, I wouldn’t want to get carried away. If Westlife’s offering was, say, a two out of ten, then this is a solid five. Decent enough, but nothing to linger in the memory for very long. Question is, can the third of our three wintery ballads in a row continue the upward trajectory…?

912. ‘Queen of My Heart’, by Westlife

In an earlier post, I noted the late-nineties phenomenon in which pop acts seemed to be contractually obliged to release a ballad for winter. East 17 were the original and best, but Peter Andre, the Spice Girls, B*Witched, S Club and more have all had a go since. And it seems like this phenomenon now peaks in November 2001… Are you ready for three wintery ballads in a row?

Queen of My Heart, by Westlife (their 9th of fourteen #1s)

1 week, from 11th – 18th November 2001

Starting with the daddies of pop balladry, Westlife. It’s actually been a whole year since we endured a Westlife ballad, and this is only their second #1 of the year. Their days of complete and utter chart domination are behind them, but the lead single from their new album is always a good bet for top spot.

Again, like so many of their ballads, I’m getting strong hints of ‘Mull of Kintyre’. Is it possible that their songwriting team started every session by trying to recreate ‘Mull of Kintyre’? If so, I’d say this is as close as they got. Same pace, same-sounding chord progressions. No bagpipes, thank God, but there are accordions for that authentic Irish pub touch. And, naturally, a key change complete with festive bells: a moment that even Paul McCartney would have found too cheesy.

I will admit to having actually enjoyed one (or two) of Westlife’s earlier chart-toppers. I’ve certainly made the best of the previous eight. But I’d say this is the moment where I finally lose patience. This one is dull, and plodding: a complete drag. Every note is cynically sentimental, sucking a tear out of granny’s eye with a vacuum cleaner. My heart sinks to think that we still have five more #1s to come from them…

I’d say that the one slightly interesting thing to note here is that for their third album, Westlife have matured their sound slightly to something a little more Adult Contemporary, with fewer poppy flourishes. But I think that seriousness is what makes this such a slog. That, and the fact that there’s not an original bone in this song’s body. Even their note for note cover of ‘Uptown Girl’ had more originality. By the time the aforementioned key change comes along, it is so signposted, so obviously on its way, that it crashes upon us like an elephant barging into our living room.

So, first ballad down, two more to come. They must be better than this, right…?