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…?
After a fairly underwhelming run of boyband fluff and novelty covers, we finally arrive at a number one record worthy of its exalted position…
Can’t Get You Out of My Head, by Kylie Minogue (her 6th of seven #1s)
4 weeks, from 23rd September – 21st October 2001
This is sophisticated pop by the standards of any era, not just when compared to the trash that it regally swept aside to spend a month on top of the charts. Pop to sit with the likes of ‘Dancing Queen’, or ‘Heart of Glass’, or ‘…Baby One More Time’ (not to give away my next Very Best award, or anything…)
And like the best pop songs before it, it has layers. Yes, ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ is catchy, and has a la-la-la hook which lodges itself deep in your brain. But it’s actually quite a sinister record, almost a dirge, with a hypnotic marching beat setting the foundations of this tale of obsession. There’s a dark secret in me, Don’t leave me locked in your heart… Perhaps the most telling line is when Kylie breathes the Set me free… Feel the need in me…
It straddles that fine line of being strange enough to be interesting, yet catchy enough to be a huge hit. You can dance to it, sure, but you can also think about it, and analyse it. You couldn’t do the same with ‘Hand on Your Heart’. And it hasn’t actually got a chorus. Or does it? Are the lalalas the chorus? Is it the Set me free…? Or is it one big chorus? This fluid, hypnotic element means that the song could potentially be played on a never-ending loop and not grow old…
I can remember hearing this record for the first time, on a radio in my old Scout hut. That same night (unless I’m mixing two memories here) I had also been clobbered over the head with a hockey stick and knocked unconscious. I’d like to claim that I came to with the sound of Kylie’s new single in my ears, but I think that really would be stretching things. Anyway, concussed or not, it sounded like the biggest-sounding hit I’d ever heard. My love for Kylie, which had been bubbling away since the early nineties, now came to the boil. She remains an icon, a legend. She is, and always will be, the moment.
Many would claim that this is Kylie’s signature song, but that’s not a simple claim to make. Has any other pop star released their signature song a full fifteen years into their careers? So I’d definitely agree that this the signature song of her post-comeback career, proving that her return the year before, with ‘Spinning Around’, wasn’t going to be a one-album flash in the pan. And Kylie of course remains active, and dare we say relevant, a quarter of a century on. But she also has one final #1 to come, so we won’t wrap things up for her just yet.
‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ was a final number one, though, for one of its songwriters, Rob Davis (alongside Cathy Dennis). Davis had an incredible career in music, from his early-sixties debut in a Shadows tribute band, to his role as lead guitarist in Mud, to his three classics of the early ‘00s: ‘Toca’s Miracle’, ‘Groovejet’, and this.
Having waxed lyrical about this record for seven paragraphs, I will spoil it all by admitting that ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ is not my favourite Kylie record. I will never not enjoy it, but like ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘…Baby One More Time’ before it, copious airplay has taken the edge off. Nowadays I’d rather hear it in the brilliant New Order mash-up ‘Can’t Get Blue Monday Out of My Head’, which Kylie debuted at the 2002 Brit Awards, and subsequently released as a B-side. Get your ears around that, if you never have before…
Christmas is still months away, so what’s with all the novelties? Hot on the heels of Bob the Builder, Oktoberfest comes to the UK singles chart…
Hey Baby (Uhh, Ahh), by DJ Ötzi (his 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 16th – 23rd September 2001
God, it’s hard to exaggerate how much this record was done to death. Mentioning Christmas feels relevant, because this was played at every festive party in 2001 (and 2002, and 2003…) The murdering of a sixties classic, the cheap synths, the crowd participation – added to the title, just in case you were in any doubt – the key change… The term ‘Eurotrash’ doesn’t begin to do it justice.
But it’s somehow… enjoyable? There’s something endearing about this, and I think it is down to DJ Ötzi’s complete commitment to his craft. He sells it, bawling out every line as if he is coming live, four beers in, from the big tent in Munich. I don’t think it has occurred to him that this could be considered a novelty record, and he’d be mortally offended if you as much as suggested it.
Ötzi is Austrian, while his beanie hat and bleached goatee (which he still sports today, aged fifty-four) have been burned into my memory for the past twenty-four years. Two interesting facts about him: he named himself after Ötzi the Iceman, a 3,500 year-old frozen mummy uncovered in the Alps (Europe’s oldest known human). And in 2002 he suffered a severe form of hearing loss (add your own jokes here…) He remains active though, especially beloved in his homeland, where he’s enjoyed thirteen Top 10 albums!
Bruce Channel’s original ‘Hey! Baby’ had been a #2 in 1962, and had also come back into the public consciousness thanks to the ‘Dirty Dancing’ soundtrack in the late-eighties. Ötzi had his wicked way with another sixties hit as a follow-up, ‘Do Wah Diddy’ making #9 later in the year. He enjoyed a third Top 10 with a remixed version of ‘Hey Baby’ for the 2002 World Cup, before graciously leaving the British charts alone.
Interestingly, demand for ‘Hey Baby’ was such that it had bounced around the lower reaches of the chart for seven weeks thanks to import copies from Europe. This meant that it had an unprecedented, if slightly false, forty-four place climb to the top when finally given a proper release. I also wonder if it’s telling that this was the best-selling record during the week of the 9/11 attacks. Were the public looking for light relief after digesting such horrific images? I couldn’t say. The fact that this and Bob the Builder were the two biggest records at the time does feel slightly incongruous…
If we add Blue’s ‘Too Close’ into the equation, this is, I believe, the first time that three consecutive covers have topped the charts. Also, and this is something I’ve been feeling for a while now, the cheapness of 2001’s chart-toppers is starting to wear thin. These two back-to-back novelties, Atomic Kitten, Shaggy, Hear’Say, Geri’s ‘It’s Raining Men’… I never expected to say this, but the year 2000 now feels like a high watermark for the time, with some high quality dance and pop #1s, and not too much cheese. Now though, we’ve reverted back to 1998-99 standard, when Vengaboys, B*Witched, Eiffel 65 and the like ruled the day.
Having said all this, our next chart-topper is both classy and era-defining, blowing all this novelty nonsense out of the water…
A low-res version of the video:
Better quality version (audio-wise I mean, the song’s still terrible…):
Mambo No. 5, by Bob the Builder (his 2nd and final #1)
1 week, from 9th – 16th September 2001
Gone is Lou Bega’s list of women that he’s shagged, replaced with more child-friendly construction items and a lengthy to do list. A little bit of timber and a saw, A little bit of fixing that’s for sure… A little bit of tiling on the roof, A little bit of making waterproof… Bob’s a little bit of a taskmaster, that’s for sure, but his gang seem to be up to the job.
It’s largely more of the same as ‘Can We Fix It?’, just to a different tune. It sounds so much like Bega’s version that I wonder if they aren’t singing over the same backing track. But like the first hit, there’s an enjoyable amount of energy and love put into it. It’s a novelty, but it doesn’t overly grate, and the lyrics are genuinely tight and cleverly put together.
We’ve just had two versions of ‘Lady Marmalade’ at number one with just three years in between, and here are two versions of ‘Mambo No. 5’ in top spot exactly two years apart. Not counting the 1950s habit of releasing different versions of a song at the same time (as with ‘Answer Me’, ‘Singing the Blues’ and ‘Cherry Pink & Apple Blossom White’) this must be a record for shortest time between two chart-topping versions of the same song. Though is it the same song? Same title and tune, yes, but completely different lyrics. After ‘3 Lions ‘98’ this is only the second song to make #1 twice with (significantly) different words.
Bob the Builder and his gang would have one further hit, with rave anthem ‘Big Fish Little Fish’, from their brilliantly titled second album ‘Never Mind the Breeze Blocks’, making #81 in 2008. Leaving seven years between albums was clearly a gamble that backfired… Bob the Builder remained on TV until 2008, before being relaunched in 2010. I can’t be alone in finding the CGI animation of the reboot slightly sinister compared to the original stop-motion version. The CGI Bob has never attempted a singing career, and it’s probably for the best. Good to go out on a high.
Much like the Dalai Lama, when one boyband dies another is born…
Too Close, by Blue (their 1st of three #1s)
1 week, from 2nd – 9th September 2001
And it’s fitting that Blue depose Five’s final number one, because in many ways they were their true successors. A bit street, a bit cool, not too heavy on the ballads… They were the Westlife, perhaps, to Five’s Boyzone; or the N*Sync to Five’s Backstreet Boys.
And their number one debut – their second single – is a fun track. Like ‘Let’s Dance’, it’s a slice of disco-revival pop, but a slinkier, sexier, slower jam. ‘Too Close’ had been a US #1 just three years earlier, recorded by R&B trio Next. Their original wasn’t completely unknown in the UK, making #24, but there was plenty of room for a bigger version of what is a fun song. What’s interesting is that covering such a recent hit probably delayed any chance of Blue making it in the US (Lee Ryan’s comments on 9/11 probably didn’t help either…)
While the Next version is a much purer, more minimal ‘90s R&B record, I enjoy the quicker tempo and the poppier touches used in Blue’s cover. They retain the somewhat risqué lyrics, though, and I can’t ever imagine a Westlife #1 opening with the line: All the slow songs you requested, You’re dancing like you’re naked… Ooh it’s almost like we’re sexin’… Despite my general revulsion for the term ‘sexing’, I can enjoy this record, and its tale of trying to hide an erection while slow dancing.
An unnamed female singer, listed only as Awsa in the credits, feels a little bump coming through… The Blue boys protest that you’re making it hard for me! It’s all fairly childish, but I do appreciate any attempt at double entendre in chart-topping singles. Again though, it’s interesting that straight off the bat Blue weren’t cultivating a particularly kid-friendly image. Rewind ten years and it’s impossible to imagine Take That trying something similarly saucy. Is it indicative of deep societal change across the turn of the millennium? Or did Blue’s management just assume the kids wouldn’t pick up on the innuendo?
It’s also interesting, to return to the Five vs Blue comparison, to hear a late-nineties boyband next to a noughties boyband. Five, for all their pierced eyebrows and swagger, were still very goofy, and very pop-leaning on songs like ‘Slam Dunk da Funk’. Blue were a more grown-up proposition from the off, with this record’s slick, very Americanised R&B. Not that Blue were the first boyband to discover sex – think ‘Deep’ by East 17, or Another Level’s ‘Freak Me’ – but that it’s still interesting to note how pop music is slowly settling into its 21st century sound.
Five (sorry, 5ive) return for album number three, and in boyband years three albums equals… Well let’s just say it’s almost time to go to that big boyband concert in the sky.
Let’s Dance, by Five (their 3rd and final #1)
2 weeks, from 19th August – 2nd September 2001
‘Let’s Dance’ is a swansong, then, and as a swansong it ticks all Five boxes. Rapped verses, catchy chorus, a hint of disco, cheeky swagger, Abs’ bucket hat in the video… Job’s a good ‘un. There’s even a spot of very du jour Daft Punk-influenced vocoding, perhaps borrowed from S Club 7 (and their far superior disco reboot) a few months earlier.
It’s a decent enough tune, then. But it’s all a bit calculated, fairly 2001-pop-song-by numbers. It lacks the personality, the vim and vigour of Five’s earlier hits, and again I’m left to lament that they had to wait so long for a #1, and that the likes of ‘Everybody Get Up’ and ‘If Ya Getting’ Down’ fell short.
It has the feel of a boyband on their last legs, basically, and that’s before you get to the fact that one of them, Sean Conlon, had already left the band due to exhaustion. This hadn’t been announced to the fans, and so he’s represented by a cardboard cutout in the video. Something that Conlon felt was a bit insulting, and that’s probably fair enough.
And on their last legs they were, as the split was announced just a month after this record had been sitting at number one. Various reunions took place over the next couple of decades, but always with one or two members missing. Earlier this year, though, they announced they’d be getting properly back together for a tour. News that was greeted more excitedly than most pop reunions, because I think Five were generally well liked by everyone, even those who were usually immune to boybands’ charms. They were fun, they were fresh, and they were – let’s be real for a moment – all pretty fuckable. And, most importantly of all, praise be: they kept the ballads to a minimum!
I admitted to a nostalgic appreciation of the cheap and cheerful production on Atomic Kitten’s first number one, ‘Whole Again’. It worked fine on an original composition…
Eternal Flame, by Atomic Kitten (their 2nd of three #1s)
2 weeks, from 29th July – 12th August 2001
But to replace the iconic, tingling intro to ‘Eternal Flame’ with the exact same pre-set drumbeat is sacrilege. And all three Kittens combined cannot compare to Susanna Hoffs tremulous vocals. We’ve heard a lot of inessential covers cropping up at number one in recent years, many of them re-dos of eighties classics, and I’d say that this rivals A1’s ‘Take on Me’ for cheapening banality.
Ironically for a song widely believed to have brought about the end of the Bangles, this version of ‘Eternal Flame’ was the official relaunch of Atomic Kitten, Kerry Katona having been replaced by Jenny Frost during the promotion of their previous number one. It set the tone for several more years of mid-level balladry and cheap covers, none of which were a patch on the catchy, playful singles from their first album. We can once again conclude that Kerry ‘That’s why mum’s go to Iceland’ Katona was the genuine creative force in the group…
What’s interesting-slash-alarming to realise is that there were only twelve years between the two versions of ‘Eternal Flame’ making number one. Yet to my ears, considering I was aged three for one and fifteen for the other, they sound as if they’re from completely different millennia. Which they technically are, but that’s not what I mean… Whatever is beyond your living memory is automatically ‘ancient’, and anything you can remember is ‘modern’, even if there’s but a year between them. It’s the same as how I can watch ‘Top Gun’, or footage from the 1986 World Cup, and struggle to believe that I was alive at the same time…
Apologies for that tangent, but is there a better place to get lost in contemplation of the perception of time than in a post on Atomic Kitten’s butchering of ‘Eternal Flame’? And luckily for us, this isn’t the last eighties chart-topper that the Kittens are going to get their claws stuck into. Their final chart-topper awaits…
I’ve always liked the yearning simplicity of ‘Eternity’, Robbie Williams’ fourth solo chart-topper. It’s a tender song, telling of a fond farewell to a former lover (Geri Halliwell, if rumours are to be believed), with a pleasant piano line and some echoey, country guitars (played by Brian May).
Eternity / The Road to Mandalay, by Robbie Williams (his 4th of seven solo #1s)
2 weeks, from 15th – 29th July 2001
I’d also say it’s been largely forgotten among some of Robbie’s bigger hits, in both a bombastic and in a sales-figures sense, even if this was the first of his #1s to spend more than a week on top. And that’s a shame, as this is a pretty decent ballad. The middle-eight and the backing vocals remind me of Wet Wet Wet’s ‘Goodnight Girl’, and it’s definitely got the same mum-rock vibe as that hit from nine years earlier.
Is mum-rock a genre, in the same way that dad-rock is? Or have I just invented it? Another good question: why is ‘Eternity’ five minutes long? It loses its way somewhere past the three-minute mark, and by the end feels dragged out. Again, though, I do like it. We’ve met plenty of artists poorly served by their number ones, but I think Robbie’s first four have been a pretty balanced overview of his early solo career. Two in-your-face swagger anthems (‘Millennium’ and ‘Rock DJ’), two heartfelt ballads (this and ‘She’s the One’). And, thankfully, no ‘Angels’!
‘Eternity’ was a stand-alone single, released between Williams’ third and fourth albums, but as a double-‘A’ it had what was technically the fifth single from ‘Sing When You’re Winning’: ‘The Road to Mandalay’. Which becomes surely the one and only chart-topping single to be partly-inspired by a Rudyard Kipling poem (Telly Savalas’s ‘If’ doesn’t count!)
Kipling’s ‘Mandalay’ was first published in 1890, and had been set to music various times in the early 20th century, right up until Frank Sinatra had his way with it in the fifties, much to the annoyance of Kipling’s family. But, sadly, William’s ‘version’ seems to share nothing but a title with these earlier songs. According to Robbie, he wanted to record something ‘French sounding’, and so composed a chorus made solely of ba-bum-ba-bum-bums-bums, which I suppose has a sort of Gallic jauntiness to it.
My general rule when it comes to double-‘A’ is that the two sides should sound different. But although it’s much more upbeat than ‘Eternity’, ‘The Road to Mandalay’ is still quite light and acoustic. I’m not sure it adds enough to the record to warrant its inclusion, even if it is pleasant.
At least it does add to the list of places to feature in #1 singles, alongside Paris, San Francisco, Massachusetts and Liverpool (there must be more, that was just off the top of my head…) And if ever there was a Pointless answer to ‘Places that feature in number one singles’, then Mandalay, Myanmar’s second-biggest city, must be it.
Every time I come across a #1 that I haven’t heard before I assume it will be the last such occasion. And I genuinely thought that I would have remembered something – a chorus, a line – from every 21st century chart-topper. But no, Hear’Say’s second number one has me stumped.
The Way to Your Love, by Hear’Say (their 2nd and final #1)
1 week, from 1st – 8th July 2001
Though it makes sense that this was such a flash in the pan, and has been completely forgotten. The knock-off Max Martin production (Britney wouldn’t even have had this as an album track), the predictable chord progressions, lyrics like your heart is my home… It’s just so damn basic. If this is the best the year’s big new pop group can do for their second single then you start to fear for their longevity…
The two boys in the band, Noel and Danny, take more of a lead role here. And while I don’t want to be mean, I always thought they looked like two of the least likely pop group members ever. The three girls? Fine. I can see them as a sort of Atomic Kitten level girl group. But those two boys look more suited to refitting your kitchen. They can sing though – they all can sing, having gone through multiple audition rounds on ‘Popstars’ – and don’t let the side down.
Midway through, the song improves slightly, and morphs into a peppy Disney theme. A straight to VHS Disney movie, maybe. It’s still undeniably lame. And although this made number one, it did so on fairly low sales and went on to be the second lowest selling chart-topper of the year, ahead only of J-Lo’s January #1 ‘Love Don’t Cost a Thing’. Most tellingly, it sold but a tenth of ‘Pure and Simple’s total.
Hear’Say would release only one more single (the #4 hit ‘Everybody’) before the ‘Popstars’ winning line-up was ripped in two by Kym Marsh’s departure in January 2002, citing a rift in the group. She was quickly replaced, by backing dancer Johnny Shentall, for one final single. By then, public opinion against the group had turned, and they were being booed off stage and harassed at motorway service stations. They called it quits in October 2002, just twenty months after launching.
Of the five, Kym Marsh and Myleene Klass launched solo music careers (Marsh making #2 in 2003 with ‘Cry’ and Klass releasing two classical crossover albums) before moving into TV, acting and presenting. Suzanne Shaw went into stage and screen acting, as did Noel Sullivan, who I’m pretty sure I saw playing Danny in ‘Grease’ in the West End. Danny Foster is a wedding/pub singer. And to be honest, that all counts as a fairly successful end for a bunch of reality TV show contestants. Far sadder post-fame tales have been told…
First thing to note here is that, despite changing my recaps from every thirty to every fifty, we have still covered barely a year’s worth of number ones. March 2000 to June 2001. We have been through the longest stretch of one-weekers in chart history (twelve), with another run of ten for good measure. In total, an amazing thirty-eight of the past fifty #1s stayed on top for just one week. (And, fittingly, one of those was called ‘7 Days’.)
What treats has this hectic turnover brought us, though? What have been the main themes of the past fifty? Well, I’ll start by saying that while I hated the fast turnover at the time, I’ve enjoyed covering it in blog terms. There was a lot of variety – some good, some bad, some so-so – and variety is, as they say, the spice of life. And I’d say that the two main themes have been 2-step garage, and nu-disco.
Garage has been the most pervasive, probably, with that 2-step beat appearing on fairly hardcore rap numbers by Oxide & Neutrino and DJ Pied Piper, as well as poppier offerings from Craig David, and even Bob the Builder’s Christmas #1. While many of my favourite recent #1s have owed a debt to disco: Madison Avenue, Spiller, even S Club 7. While Steps, God love ‘em, scored their second chart-topper with a full-on disco extravaganza. In fact, I think Barry White and Chic have appeared on at least four recent #1s between them, all sadly uncredited.
In pop terms, we’ve slowly been moving away from that Max Martin, uber-pop sound that typified the turn of the millennium to the lighter, more R&B inflected stylings of Destiny’s Child and Jennifer Lopez. Still, there has been plenty of the former too: Britney, and LeAnn Rimes, and some decent British attempts to keep up from Billie Piper and A1.
There’s been some very modern hip-hop, not least the introduction of the biggest rap artist of all time. ‘The Real Slim Shady’ felt like a game changing arrival, with precision delivery, cutting insults, and the most swears ever heard in a number one to date. Then came ‘Stan’, and proof that Marshall Mathers wasn’t just here to piss your parents off.
What of rock music? Well, it still has a pulse, just about. If you consider Limp Bizkit – our first and only nu-metal #1 – worthy of following in the tradition of earlier rock chart-toppers. Or U2, who made a grab for stadium-filling ubiquity with ‘Beautiful Day’, selling a lot of records but leaving me cold. Apart from that, the next most rocking chart-toppers were probably from the Corrs and Emma Bunton, and (as good as those two records are) if they’re representing the rock faction then the genre is probably on life-support…
In other news, we’ve bid farewell to the Spice Girls, both as a group (with the dull ‘Holler’) and as a solo concern. Their recent solo #1s have been eclectic, from Geri’s camp fluff to Mel C’s trance banger. We’ve also welcomed back the icon that is Ms Kylie Minogue for her huge second act, and while ‘Spinning Around’ isn’t a favourite of mine it is always good to have her in the conversation. There’s also been a second (or is it third?) act for Shaggy, with the highest-selling single out of the past fifty, and the last appearance of Queen on this countdown. Though the less said about that the better… And, of course, there’s been a lot of Westlife. Four out of the past fifty to be exact. And I will hold my hands up and admit to enjoying at least one of them.
Before we get to the awards, we have to mention possibly the most significant of all the recent chart-toppers: the first reality TV #1, from Hear’Say. ‘Pure and Simple’ was an okay pop song, but what it represents is actually quite terrifying. The first tremor from a fifty-plus chart-topper mega-quake…
To the latest awards, then. The 28th edition. And it’s the Meh Award that we grapple with first. What has been the least memorable of the past fifty? My shortlist includes a couple of low-key house #1s from Chicane and Rui Da Silva, as well as whichever of the four Westlife hits took my fancy. But instead I’m going to betray ten-year-old me and give it to the Spice Girls, for the double-dullness that was ‘Holler’ / ‘Let Love Lead the Way’. From the zany fun of ‘Wannabe’ to carbon-copy R&B. How the mighty fell.
There are a decent bunch of candidates for this WTAF Award too. The ‘Casualty’ and Guy Ritchie sampling ‘Bound 4 da Reload’. Or the fake Barry White on ‘You See the Trouble With Me’? Or the incongruity of Five and Queen sharing a stage (with the background stylings of Freddie Mercury slowly rotating in his grave)? Or should I give it to the nu-metal #1? I’m probably going to reveal my struggle with garage as a genre over the next couple of awards, but I’m giving this one to Oxide & Neutrino.
Which means that The28thVery Worst Chart-Topper must be the truly execrable ‘Do You Really Like It?’ (no we really do-on’t) by DJ Pied Piper and his Masters of Ceremonies. Worse even than A1’s borderline criminal cover of ‘Take on Me’. I did briefly consider giving this to ‘Beautiful Day’, just to really put the cat among the pigeons, but that would have just been petty. Plus I’m fairly sure Bono doesn’t actually read this blog.
We end, as per tradition, with The Very Best Chart-Topper Award. I have a shortlist of five. That’s probably more of a longlist, to be fair, but they are… ‘Oops!… I Did It Again’, by Britney. ‘Groovejet’, by Spiller and the delectable Sophie E-B. All Saint’s ‘Black Coffee’, which I’ve always rated higher than the better-remembered ‘Pure Shores’. ‘Stan’, by Eminem. And the irresistible ‘Don’t Stop Movin’’.
‘Oops!…’ for the nostalgia factor. ‘Spiller’ because no other #1 sums up the turn of the millennium better. ‘Black Coffee’ because All Saints are just generally underrated. And ‘Don’t Stop Movin’’ because it’s great pop. So, by that barometer, I should give it to S Club, as the most lacking in ulterior motive. But over them all looms ‘Stan’. Not a particularly enjoyable number one. Not one I long to hear very often. By an artist that I have my moral struggles with. But it’s a towering work of art, not something you can say about many pop songs; and art should sometimes by unpleasant and confronting. So I think I’m going to go with my head here, and name ‘Stan’ as the latest Very Best number one.
To recap the recaps:
The ‘Meh’ Award for Forgettability
‘Hold My Hand’, by Don Cornell.
‘It’s Almost Tomorrow’, by The Dream Weavers.
‘On the Street Where You Live’, by Vic Damone.
‘Why’, by Anthony Newley.
‘The Next Time’ / ‘Bachelor Boy’, by Cliff Richard & The Shadows.
‘Juliet’, by The Four Pennies.
‘The Carnival Is Over’, by The Seekers.
‘Silence Is Golden’, by The Tremeloes.
‘I Pretend’, by Des O’Connor.
‘Woodstock’, by Matthews’ Southern Comfort.
‘How Can I Be Sure’, by David Cassidy.
‘Annie’s Song’, by John Denver.
‘I Only Have Eyes For You’, by Art Garfunkel.
‘I Don’t Want to Talk About It’ / ‘The First Cut Is the Deepest’, by Rod Stewart.
The UK Number Ones Blog 