00s pop music

974. ‘Toxic’, by Britney Spears

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All the best pop songs are weird…

Toxic, by Britney Spears (her 4th of six #1s)

1 week, 7th – 14th March 2004

That’s my sweeping statement for today. Glance down my list of the Very Best Number Ones, for a start. Yes, there are a few classic, fairly straightforward pop songs. ‘She Loves You’, ‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’, ‘The Winner Takes It All’… These songs do exist, in the hands of the ultimates: The Beatles, Marvin Gaye, ABBA… Most of them are though, at least in part, weird: ‘Relax’s spurting, ‘Believe’s autotune, ‘Your Woman’s 1930s sample… all weird. ‘Telstar’, ‘Space Oddity’, ‘I Feel Love’… weird, weird, weird.

Enter ‘Toxic’, one of pop’s great, weird moments. It is so crammed with odd little bits: Bollywood strings, surf guitars, techno synths, so cluttered that it shouldn’t work. It at times sounds artificially sped up, then slowed down, and the beat sounds just that ever-so-slightly off. ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ was, apparently, a reference point. Spears’ voice is fed through every distorting, vocoding, auto-tuning software known to man. It comes dangerously close, time and again, to being too much.

But it is not too much. It is just enough. Perfect, even, if the goal was to mimic the effects of being poisoned by something toxic. Its beauty lies in the little moments – the way the strings change direction in the second verse, the moments’ static before the second chorus. And yes, it set the tone for pop music to come. Every little bleep and squelch is intentional, and what pop music sounds like now in the attention-deficit age. Instantly ear-catching. No two verses or choruses identical. No patience for hanging around.

It’s why this decade has had some, largely female driven, brilliantly zany pop moments. It’s also why, say, ‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’ couldn’t happen in the 21st century, as it builds too slowly. (Though ‘She Loves You’ is thrillingly modern, the way it barrels in chorus-first.) ‘Toxic’ also provides a comparison with Britney’s debut single, at number one exactly five years before. ‘….Baby One More Time’ is a pop song in the classic sense, from the previous century, and sounds like it next to this record.

Britney probably had little to no input into how this song sounded, but that doesn’t mean it could have come from any old singer. It was written for Janet Jackson, and turned down by Kylie; but I can’t imagine either of them performing this. I’m not sure what Britney does, but she does something, and that’s star quality. No, actually, one thing she does is give us another iconically weird pronunciation. Step aside ‘baybay’; hello ‘talk Sikh’.

That intro was not quite me crowning ‘Toxic’ as my next Very Best, by the way; though it will of course be in the running. 2004 was Britney’s most successful chart-topping year, with another, very different, number one to come. One thing I’m fairly confident about is the next #1 won’t be troubling that particular decision…

973. ‘Mysterious Girl’, by Peter Andre

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Well over seven years since his last number one, Aussie-Cypriot adonis Peter Andre is back, back, back baby…

Mysterious Girl, by Peter Andre (his 3rd and final #1)

1 week, 29th February – 7th March 2004

What was behind this comeback, if indeed we can call it so? It wasn’t with new material, as ‘Mysterious Girl’ had been his breakthrough single back in 1995. It was a much more prosaic, and very 21st century, reason: an appearance on ‘I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here’, and a subsequent campaign by Radio 1 DJ Chris Moyles.

So, the reason behind the re-release may be tawdry, but make no mistake: ‘Mysterious Girl’ is a great pop song. Given the very average nature of Andre’s two original number ones, the fact that this had originally peaked at #2 could be seen as something of an injustice. But better late than never!

It’s interesting how, covering every number one single, you don’t really notice changes in sound as they happen. But surrounded by pop songs nine years younger, ‘Mysterious Girl’ sounds at once dated, and yet glorious. It’s easy to forget just how reggae-tinged the charts of the mid-nineties were, with acts like Chaka Demus & Pliers, Pato Banton and, of course, Shaggy, all making top spot.

Many must have originally assumed that it was Shaggy himself providing the rap on this track, but no. Bubbler Ranx has a great name, and is a big part of what makes this a good song, but he doesn’t even have a Wikipedia entry (or a credit on this record.) Meanwhile, Peter Andre acquits himself well, but it would be easy to argue that he is the least important part of this track, behind Ranx, and all the classic – and fairly cheesy – reggae and lovers’ rock touches.

Then there’s the famous video, which features a Thai model called, no joke, Champagne. Did Peter Andre ever get close to this mysterious girl? Not likely, if her facial expression through much of the video is anything to go by. Though even she had to play second fiddle to the real star of the show: Andre’s six-pack.

Though I do enjoy this song, its belated success was a double-edged sword… It meant that the seemingly forgotten Peter Andre was thrust back into the British popular consciousness. It meant we got to witness his relationship with Katie Price (anyone remember their cover of ‘A Whole New World’ – #12 in 2006 – or has everyone collectively bleached that from memory?) his descent into whatever reality TV show would have him, all the way to a job on GB News…

Finally – and this is the info you come to this blog for, really – I can reveal that this is only the second song in the history of the British charts to reach number one on February 29th. And if anyone can tell me what the first was (without checking!) I will be very impressed.

972. ‘Who’s David’, by Busted

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After enjoying the light-hearted ‘Crashed the Wedding’ much more than the angsty ‘You Said No’, I’m sad to find that Busted are back to being emo.

Who’s David, by Busted (their 3rd of four #1s)

1 week, 22nd – 29th February 2004

It’s worrying how a song released when I was legally an adult can be filed under ‘hasn’t aged well’. I must be old. Anyway, here we are, in 2026 – with misogyny and the ‘manosphere’ hot, hot topics – grappling with ‘Who’s David’, the whiny tale of a girl that has given the Busted boys the runaround. (David being one of her many conquests, along with Peter, John and Mike.)

First things first. Girls cheat on boys, and make boys sad. Boys have the right to be upset about it without being labelled misogynists. But several of the lines in ‘Who’s David’ really land with a spiteful clunk, including digs about her make-up, an admission that they ‘invaded’ her phone, and the piece de resistance: You stupid lying bitch, Who’s David? Some guy who lives next door? (They don’t actually say ‘bitch’ as it’s blanked out, presumably at a nervous record company’s insistence. When they re-recorded their greatest hits in 2023, all grown up, they said it.)

Worst of all, though, is the insistence that they don’t really care. You’re so cheap, And I’m not blind, You’re not worthy of my time… and You can’t hurt me now, I’m over you… It’s childish. If that’s really the case boys, then why do we need this song? The far superior ‘Air Hostess’ could have been the album’s second single, and your third number one!

It’s no secret that Busted were desperate to be seen as a proper band. It’s why Charlie Simpson walked out on them, while they were at the height of their popularity, to form post-hardcore act Fightstar. But it’s also frustrating that that led to songs like this, and that of their four #1s, two are fairly spiteful. This isn’t the goofy Busted that I remember, represented by pretty much every one of their singles that didn’t make top spot.

The petulant lyrics sadly also detract from the fact that this is probably their ‘realest’ rock moment, with a chorus that is catchy and actually quite heavy. But I hadn’t heard this song in over two decades, and neither have many others. It isn’t in Busted’s Top 10 on Spotify, an impressive underachievement considering they only released eight singles in their short time together. And at least this isn’t the last we’ll hear from Busted – a band I thought I remembered fondly until I actually had to write blog posts about them – and if I’m correct their final #1 should redeem things slightly.

971. ‘With a Little Help from My Friends’, by Sam & Mark

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Where a Pop Idol winner is, the runners-up can’t be far behind. Two weeks behind, to be precise…

With a Little Help From My Friends, by Sam & Mark (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, 15th – 22nd February 2004

Sam Nixon and Mark Rhodes had finished second and third respectively behind Michelle McManus, and had wasted no time in deciding that they were stronger together. Simon Fuller signed them, and they quickly cobbled together this pointless cover of the Beatles classic.

Pointless, because it’s hard to outdo the Beatles when you’re talented, much less when you’re Sam or Mark. And pointless because ‘With a Little Help From My Friends’ has been at number one twice already, through Joe Cocker’s definitive cover, and Wet Wet Wet’s peppy charity version. But the sinister minds behind reality TV puppets rarely show much imagination, so here we are.

This record is certainly pointless, but is it bad? Well, yes, and no. It’s bad, because it’s cheesy, and cheap, and unnecessary. It has lots of Beatles-y touches, as if you’d asked AI to play a Beatles song but to make it sound like it came from a Pop Idol act in 2004. Except in 2004 we were blissfully AI free, and so someone must have actually sat down at a mixing desk and created this trash. At the same time though, there’s still a decent pop song buried in there. It’s catchy, and perky, and appealing if you’re eleven years old and completely unaware of this song’s history.

‘With a Little Help From My Friends’, and the very literal video in which Sam and Mark move into a house together, with a little help from their friends, was the first example of what would become a popular X-Factor trope: the cheeky chappy. Despite the gay subtext of the video, Sam and Mark weren’t a couple; they were two jack-the-lads, here for a good time not a long time, as long as all the fun was PG-rated. These cheeky chaps often came in duos – off the top of my head I’m thinking Journey South and, um, Jedward – but not exclusively. X Factor’s ultimate lad star was, of course, Olly Murs. None of this is original, X Factor never was, and you could argue that Simon Cowell’s Robson & Jerome were the prototype of this dynamic, while Robbie Williams made ‘loveable lad’ his own personal brand in his early solo years. But reality TV really went with it, as it was a character type that appealed both to the teenage girls watching, and their mums (and probably even their grannies).

Looking at them now, Sam and Mark feel quite familiar, but also very foreign. Reality TV, despite creating ‘famous’ people by the truckload, was the start of the end for old-school celebrity. Social media accelerated the cull, and now everyone seems to want their celebs to be normal, and relatable, and just like them. Maybe I’m in the minority, but I’d much prefer my famous people to have pet chimps and at least five marital partners. At the same time, and without wanting to get personal, Sam and Mark still appear ordinary. Social media has made ordinary people famous, but they don’t look ordinary nowadays. In 2026, Sam and Mark would both have six packs, and fades, and Turkey teeth, and probably a protein drink brand. In 2004, they genuinely look like people you’d meet down the pub. (Actually, writing this post has caused me to dredge up long-supressed memories of finding chubby-cheeked Sam quite cute back in the day…)

Moving swiftly on. As with Michelle McManus, Sam and Mark’s voices are begging a question… How did they end up almost winning a singing competition? Maybe it’s the banal material, but neither of them sound like particularly good vocalists. And to be fair, their singing careers didn’t last long. For one more single, to be precise. They moved into TV and radio, both as a duo and alone, and managed to stay in national-level work well into the 2010s. Mark’s most recent Wikipedia entry has him as a DJ on BBC West Midlands, while Sam was last seen as Buttons in ‘Cinderella’ at the Theatre Royal Wakefield.

One final piece of housekeeping: many sources list this as a double-A side with something called ‘Measure of a Man’. Thankfully the Official Charts Company do not, and so I haven’t had to listen to it, and can clock off early today.

The audio quality in the above video is a bit off, so to hear Sam & Mark in the 4k quality a song like this deserves click below:

969. ‘All This Time’, by Michelle

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Into 2004 we leap! Into what is officially the mid-2000s! And, as with 2003, the year’s first new #1 is the previous year’s TV singing contest winner…

All This Time, by Michelle (her 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, 11th January – 1st February 2004

Michelle McManus, a ‘larger than life’ travel agent from Glasgow, was the winner of the second series of Pop Idol. Her win caused quite the stir, with judge Pete Waterman storming off the set. Her size was both credited as the only reason she won, and blamed as a sign of Britain’s moral degeneracy. But, of course, she still had enough goodwill to spend three weeks at number one with her winner’s single (although with barely 10% of the first week sales that her predecessor Will Young had managed).

Listening to ‘All This Time’, I am immediately put in two minds. The first is telling me that this record is, inevitably, shit. But the other is telling me that it is perfect in its shittiness. We’ll hear many more number one in this style, on this theme; but none will top ‘All This Time’, the ultimate tossed-out in thirty minutes winner’s single.

The stupidly dragged out, faux-grandiose intro. The cheesy reverb. The gospel-lite backing singers. The OTT opening line: This time yesterday, I thought I was gonna die… and the actually quite uplifting chorus: All this time, We’ve come a long, long way, I’ve waited a lifetime for today… And, of course, the key change. I think every winner post-McManus should have been made to record their own version of ‘All This Time’. It should have become the national anthem of TV ‘talent’ show champions. The best thing about it isn’t even musical though… It’s the fact that it was released under a single-name – Michelle – as if she was already fit to take her place alongside Cher, Madonna or Beyonce.

While the criticism around her weight was undoubtedly ugly, it is hard to hear anything in this recording to suggest why Michelle McManus had just won a nationwide singing contest. Her voice isn’t bad, but I’m pretty sure you could hear similar at any karaoke night along Sauchiehall Street. It’s reedy, and a bit strained on the middle-eight, though perhaps a full-throated ballad like this wasn’t in her comfort zone.

And yet, unlike 90% of TV talent show winners, Michelle still has a career. I was back in Scotland over Christmas, and on Hogmanay there she was, twenty-two years later, singing her lungs out on the BBC. She may only have had two hit singles, but she has hung in there largely by agreeing to appear on whatever platform will have her. She has been a pop singer, an actress, a radio presenter, a TV presenter, a talent contest judge, a choir master, and a columnist for the Glasgow Evening Times. She has performed with Rod Stewart, Lulu, and Robbie Williams, and has sung for the Pope. Her TV credits range from ‘You Are What You Eat’, to ‘Loose Women’, to ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’.

You could view this as symptomatic of celebrity in the 21st century, the sheer graft required just to stay relevant at all costs; but I prefer to see it as testament to McManus’s personality. She seems like a nice person, someone you’d happily share a bottle of wine with. I do have a slightly personal connection to this song, too, as it was number one on my eighteenth birthday. It’s simultaneously a terrible, and yet somehow almost fitting, song to come of age to.

968. ‘Mad World’, by Michael Andrews ft. Gary Jules

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The Battle for Christmas Number One in 2003 was an epic for the ages, and one of the closest ever fought. And God was I annoyed about the way it went at the time…

Mad World, by Michael Andrews ft. Gary Jules (their 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, 21st December 2003 – 11th January 2004

The Darkness, the year’s cock-rocking breakthrough band (another example of how 2003 was a deeply strange musical year…) had already had several Top 10 hits and a huge-selling album, and looked primed to take the festive top-spot, with a throwback to the classic glam hits of seventies. ‘Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End)’ sounded like Slade crossed with Queen crossed with Sparks. It was great, it was bookies’ favourite, and it was bought by me…

Then along came this two-year-old cover of Tears for Fears’ breakthrough hit, the musical opposite of the Darkness, understated, minimalist… dull… and outsold them by just five thousand copies. I thought it was a travesty!

But, now I’ve had time to calm down, twenty-three (!) years later, I can admit that this is an intriguing number one. It is miserable; but it is also starkly haunting. Lines like Dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had… and Children waiting for the day they feel good, Happy birthday, Happy birthday… do not your typical festive hit make. But it spoke to people (and if folks in 2003 think they are living in a mad world, then boy do I have news for them…) Plus, the muffled piano line makes me think of snow softly falling, so it is somewhat Christmassy, at a stretch.

I do wish they hadn’t used the echoey vocal effects, and had kept it even more spartan. It’s like they were worried that people might find it too boring, and so dressed it up unnecessarily. There is a tradition of minimalist festive hits – think the Housemartins, or the Flying Pickets – and this can just about sit alongside them. I do prefer the perkier original, with its natty synth riffs, and I do still wish the Darkness had made #1. This record would presumably have climbed to number one after Christmas, so both records could have had their moments on top.

Michael Andrews was a producer and writer of film scores, and Gary Jules (whose voice sounds to me remarkably like Michael Stipe) a singer-songwriter. Both had worked together previously and collaborated on this cover for the soundtrack to ‘Donnie Darko’, an indie movie released in 2001 and which, over two years later, had built up quite a cult following.

This leads to probably the real reason why I didn’t like ‘Mad World’ at the time. I was seventeen, had just finished my first semester at university, and this song, along with ‘Donnie Darko’, represented the cool kids. The edgelords. The Oh my God you haven’t seen ‘Fargo’…? crowd. I was not a cool kid, but deep down I did want to be. I just never seemed to like the things that the cool kids liked. I couldn’t help be drawn to the brash mainstream-ness of the Darkness.

Ironically, the minute this became a number one single, the cool kids would have had to ditch it for something much less well-known. But it had its moment, and was quite the story at the time. Neither Andrews nor Jules has appeared on the charts at any other time, and both remain gold-star one-hit wonders.

Apologies for the poor quality video…

967. ‘Changes’, by Ozzy & Kelly Osbourne

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Another of 2003’s slightly out of kilter number ones: Tatu, Room 5, R Kelly, Evanescence, Blu Cantrell… Now this.

Changes, by Ozzy & Kelly Osbourne (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, 14th – 21st December 2003

Although as we are nearing Christmas, traditionally a time of love, joy, and slightly out of kilter songs, perhaps this one isn’t as surprising. It’s a cover of the old Black Sabbath ballad, featuring Sabbath’s lead singer Ozzy Osbourne, and his daughter Kelly, plus a few lyrical tweaks to change this from a song about a romantic relationship to one about a father-daughter relationship.

So, ‘woman’ is now ‘baby’, the ‘I’ is now ‘we’, while the I love you daddy… line really makes me flinch. Is it serious? Is it a novelty? Is it a pointless indulgence by a fabulously rich, celebrity family? (Christmas cards with family portraits are bad enough, but here we have a freaking family duet just in time for the holidays…) Or is it just a cynical cash-in, with the Osbournes at the height of their MTV series fame? Apparently Kelly had demanded her dad write a song about her – he’d previously written songs for his other two children – which feels quite in keeping with her bratty persona from the show.

I don’t think the style of the song suits either of their voices. Ozzy sounds strained, compared to the original – decades of ingesting every narcotic known to humankind taking their toll – while if there is a style that suits Kelly’s voice, this isn’t it (though I’ll admit, I did like her cover of ‘Papa Don’t Preach’). Add in an orchestra and a choir, and you lose the original’s simplicity in a schmaltzy swamp.

For The Prince of Darkness’s only chart-topper I do wish it rocked a bit more. Or, indeed, at all. But the original was also an outlier in the band’s discography, featuring neither guitars nor drums. It had been inspired by Sabbath drummer Bill Ward’s separation from his wife, but wasn’t released as a single until Ozzy recorded a live version in the early nineties. Another notable version of the song is a much more soulful cover by Charles Bradley, made famous as the theme to Netflix’s ‘Big Mouth’.

Despite clearly being released with the Christmas market in mind, ‘Changes’ was never really in contention for the Xmas #1, thanks to an epic chart battle that we’ll get to in our next post. This was Ozzy’s sole UK Top 10 as a ‘lead’ artist, though he had featured once with Black Sabbath (‘Paranoid’, in 1970) and alongside Kim Basinger, on Was (Not Was)’s 1993 hit ‘Shake Your Head’. Kelly outdid her dad in this regard, by three to one. And this is only the second, and so far final, father-daughter #1, after Frank and Nancy.

Ozzy, fifty-five at time of release, becomes the third man in their sixth decade to top the charts in 2003, after Elton John and Oliver Cheatham. The year of the late-middle-aged man! He sadly died a few months ago, meaning that this record takes on an even more bittersweet tone listening to it now (although I still think it’s fairly crap…)

This video quality isn’t great, so here’s one with better audio…

966. ‘Leave Right Now’, by Will Young

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Will Young and Gareth Gates’ final chart-toppers (of four each), neatly sum up their post Popstars careers.

Leave Right Now, by Will Young (his 4th and final #1)

2 weeks, 30th November – 14th December 2003

Gareth’s final #1 was a cheesy, charity affair for Comic Relief. He then went on to release more cheese, before going into musical theatre and reality TV. He’s made the most of limited resources, and is just about still active in the industry. Will Young’s final #1, meanwhile, was a much bolder statement of intent.

It starts off with a folksy, acoustic backing, allowing his voice to do all the work. Yes, it’s light, a little reedy. But the lyrics require vulnerability, and vulnerability is what Will Young’s voice brings. The song then grows, with strings and a backing band of real instruments, to a subtly orchestral climax, before ending on Young’s wavering voice once again, singing the title line. I think I better leave right now…

It’s grown-up, and real, compared to the hits from his first album. The themes are mature too, about unrequited love, and about knowing when you have to follow your head over your heart. One contemporary review made me chuckle, claiming it to be one of the most English songs ever, a ‘Brief Encounter’ for the 21st century, complete with Young’s posh vowels and quivering restraint. (Years later, Young revealed that he had re-recorded his vocals multiple times because record executives thought he sounded too ‘gay’.)

That restraint goes, briefly, in the middle eight, when he even allows himself a throaty rasp on the I wouldn’t know how to say, How good it feels seeing you today… line. But that is overshadowed by the catchy simplicity of the chorus, which I remember going viral by the standards of 2003. This was the first moment when it really became clear to the general public that a TV talent show contestant could have some musical chops, and some hopes at longevity.

Though it should also be said that ‘Leave Right Now’ wasn’t written by Young, and was still released under Simon Cowell’s supervision. In fact, he released five albums in total under his original contract, only leaving in 2012. Beyond his four #1s, he’s scored seven further UK Top 10s, and has never had any of his nine studio albums chart outside the Top 5. Will Young probably isn’t the best solo artist unearthed by a reality TV singing show, and he’s definitely not my favourite, but he was the first to show that there was life beyond the usual bland covers and the cheese.

965. ‘Mandy’, by Westlife

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Blame me. I mentioned them in passing in my last post and, like a vengeful demon, that is all it takes to summon Westlife…

Mandy, by Westlife (their 12th of fourteen #1s)

1 week, 23rd – 30th November 2003

You might be wondering why I made a fuss about the end of ‘the golden age of boybands’, when Busted are the biggest pop group in the land, and Westlife are still cranking out the number ones. Well, I’ve explained why Busted weren’t actually a boyband, and in this post I’ll explain why Westlife were no longer one either.

Actually, the this cover of Barry Manilow’s 1974 UK #11 (and US #1) hit does the explaining for me. Westlife have renounced the boyband mantle, and any attempts to woo the traditional teenage girl market, and become full-on granny baiters. (Westlife, for all their many musical crimes, were not initially very cover-version heavy. This was only their fourth non-original #1 from twelve.)

And the fact that they are now mining a rich seam of proudly cheesy, easy-listening hits means that this is actually one of their more enjoyable chart-toppers. After the dirges that were ‘Unbreakable’, and ‘Queen of My Heart’, a cover of a Manilow classic is a pleasant surprise. Plus, they’ve added a strangely interesting sitar riff. And a key change, naturally.

Giving up any pretence at being relevant was probably a sensible career move for Westlife, and the run of MOR covers that started with ‘Mandy’ probably extended their chart careers for a good few years (and set them up nicely for a post-chart career touring Asia, where people’s love of a soppy ballad knows no bounds). This was the second single from their fourth studio album, ‘Turnaround’. The lead single – the slightly more contemporary and actually quite upbeat ‘Hey Whatever’ – had done the unthinkable and stalled at #4 in September. Which proves my point about this being the right move for a boyband almost five years into their careers, as back to #1 they went.

A couple of interesting things about ‘Mandy’ before we finish. It was originally written as ‘Brandy’, and had reached #12 in the UK in 1971 for Scott English. Manilow changed the name to avoid confusion with Looking Glass’s big hit ‘Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)’. And Westlife’s version technically has the biggest climb to #1 in chart history, after a handful of copies were made available a day early by mistake. It had charted at #200 the week before, then rocketed to #1 when properly released. The OCC only acknowledge the Top 100, however, and so it is officially a new entry at number one.

963. ‘Slow’, by Kylie Minogue

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And so Kylie manages to squeeze one more chart-topper out of her early ‘00s comeback.

Slow, by Kylie Minogue (her 7th of eight #1s)

1 week, 9th – 16th November 2003

Some chart-watchers dismiss number ones such as this, bought by Kylie’s fans rather than the general public, but I think they are a valuable chart asset, helping songs to the top that might not make it otherwise. Okay, we can blame most of Westlife’s endless parade of bland #1s on this phenomenon, but still. I’ll stand my ground. Instead of calling them ‘non-number ones’, as many do, I like to think of them as ‘fanbase hits’.

It’s especially appreciated when it sends songs as sexy and slinky as this to the top. Of all Kylie’s chart-toppers, this is the furthest left-field. The monotonous beat, the cool sheen, the fluttering heartbeat synths. And Kylie purring into the mic as if she were a tiger about to devour its prey. ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ was a weird record (as massive smash hits go), and ‘Slow’ is that song’s even weirder cousin. Had it been recorded by a cool electronic act like Goldfrapp or Hot Chip – and it could have been – then it wouldn’t have come anywhere near number one. Hence why ‘fanbase hits’ can be a good thing.

In fact, her singing style here is very different to the earlier versions of Kylie – a sort of breathy, doll-like style – and is one that she’s used for the best part of two decades now. Maybe it was age getting the better of her voice, though she was only thirty-six when this made #1, but it has grown even more nasal as the years have gone by. (And that, readers, is as close as you’ll ever hear me get to bad-mouthing Kylie.)

Though I will also admit to finding ‘Slow’ a bit slow at the time. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention, or maybe I was still too busy spinning Fatman Scoop, but it felt a little like a non-event. Listening now, I can see how wrong I was. ‘Slow’ is an interesting pop record, an experimental pop record, another fascinating detour in the long career of Kylie (the almost sixteen years between this and ‘I Should Be So Lucky’ was a record for a female act at the time).

‘Slow’ also features a fabulous middle eight. In a career littered with camp moments, Kylie has never sounded gayer than when uttering the read my… body language line. What makes it even better is that it’s basically a well-placed plug for the album. Kylie breaking the fourth wall: iconic. In fact, ‘Body Language’ is regarded as one of her very best LPs, and the two later singles from it were also great (‘Red Blooded Woman’ and the even slower and sexier ‘Chocolate’), though it is generally over-looked for the two, better-selling albums that came before.

For two decades and more, this appeared to have been Kylie’s seventh and final UK chart-topper. But then a Christmas miracle occurred, and she managed an eighth, twenty-two years on. Which was amazing. Though also slightly annoying, because I’ll have to postpone my ‘Kylie Best of the Rest’ post until around 2030…