Serious question: who were the worst musical duo of 1995? In any other year, the moronic Outhere Brothers would have taken the prize hands down. And yet… We also have to reckon with another, potentially even more heinous, pair…
Unchained Melody / White Cliffs of Dover, by Robson & Jerome (their 1st of three #1s)
7 weeks, from 14th May – 2nd July 1995
Robson Green and Jerome Flynn were two actors and television personalities – still are, in fact. They had risen to prominence in the ITV series ‘Soldier Soldier’, in which they played, yes, soldiers. In one episode, they sang an impromptu version of ‘Unchained Melody’ at a wedding, going by the name the Unrighteous Brothers… And the rest was history.
This record suffers from two major problems. First off, it’s terrible. Secondly, the incomparably superior version of ‘Unchained Melody’ that this cover was based on is still fresh in the memory, having topped the charts barely four years ago. Which makes this sound even more like a cheap karaoke cash-in than the tinny backing track and the dodgy vocals might suggest.
And OK, they may have been going for a ‘cheap and cheerful’ feel, as in the TV programme, but that might be giving them a little too much benefit of the doubt. Allegedly the duo had a little ‘assistance’ in the recording studio (to the point where some claim that it’s not really them singing), but I’m not one to cast aspersions. Robson and Jerome seem like decent blokes, not taking themselves too seriously, enjoying an unexpected change in career direction… So on the one hand we shouldn’t get too annoyed by this silly #1. Yet, on the other, there’s the fact that what should have been a fun scene from a TV show was turned into a seven-week chart-topper, and the best-selling single of 1995 – nay, the best-selling single of the entire decade so far! The British public, once again, showing themselves unfit to be trusted within twenty feet of a record shop.
On the flip side of the disc, there’s something slightly more interesting. ‘(There’ll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover’ is a song from the Second World War, made famous by the forces’ sweetheart Vera Lynn. It’s interesting, because it may well have been a tie-in for the 50th anniversary of VE Day, and because it’s a clear indication of who this record was aimed at. Grannies across the land kept this on top of the charts, holding off U2 and, in a travesty far worse than Engelbert or ‘Shaddap You Face’, Pulp’s ‘Common People’.
‘Bluebirds’ itself is every bit as rotten as ‘Unchained Melody’, while the production may be even cheaper and nastier, slathered over twee lines about shepherds watching their flocks and little Jimmy sleeping safe in his room (which I’m sure were powerful in 1942 with the Luftwaffe swarming overhead, but which just sound maudlin here). At least, by the end, the pair have been relieved of their singing duties by a much more competent gospel choir.
Apparently both Robson and Jerome had to be persuaded to do any of this, to the point that Green threatened to sue for harassment. Who, pray tell, could be cynical enough to risk a court appearance in the name of unleashing this crap on the nation…? Oh, right, yep. Simon Cowell. The dark overlord of the charts in the 2000s cut his blood-sucking teeth with this, his first number one record. It was produced by two-thirds of SAW (Stock and Aitken), giving this disc yet another stamp of quality…
If only this was a one-off, for both Robson & Jerome, and for Simon Cowell. But, of course, it wasn’t. Much more is to come. Until then, let’s distract ourselves with some chart trivia. This marks the first time that a song has topped the chart in three different versions (the Righteous Brothers, of course, and the Jimmy Young version from way back in 1955). Meanwhile, ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ became the longest-titled #1 single ever – as long as you include the brackets at the start.
A very happy new year to all who follow this blog! So, where were we…? In the real world it’s 2024, while back here it’s the spring of 1995…
Dreamer, by Livin’ Joy (their 1st and only #1)
1 week, from 7th – 14th May 1995
We left things a few weeks ago having just welcomed Oasis to the top of the charts with ‘Some Might Say’, officially kicking off the Britpop age. Our next number one is the direct flip-side to that wall of guitar; the other, equally valid, sound of the nineties.
That is, the sound of a hitherto unknown Europop outfit appearing out of nowhere with a proper old-school dance banger. Having it large, mate! Nice one! Big fish, little fish, cardboard box… etc. etc. I may struggle to convince as a dance music fan, but I really do like songs like this. Songs with conviction. Dance music with the power of rock and roll. Hands to the sky, don’t ask why.
Livin’ Joy were a pair of Italian brothers, who took care of the production, and American singer Janice Robinson, who fronted the whole thing. As with all the best dance tracks – ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’, ‘Let Me be Your Fantasy’ and the like – the vocals are made to be belted out between mouthfuls of dry ice. Probably the closest comparison to be drawn, though, is with Black Box’s ‘Ride on Time’ – not just because they were also Italian, but because Robinson is one of the few dance divas who can compete with Loleatta Holloway in the belting stakes.
And also because ‘Dreamer’ has quite a few retro house touches, especially as we end with the title line on a tight loop, as if the record has stuck, leaving us dancing to it for eternity. I drew a comparison to rock and roll a moment ago, and in all honesty dance music in the 1990s is what rock was in the 1950s… If you wanted to rock around the clock in 1995, you would do so to songs like ‘Dreamer’, with upbeat lyrics like Love, life, and laughter, Is all that I believe… None of that silly introspective nonsense. There’s also a good example of the ‘dance music as church’ phenomenon, in lines like My saviour is pure now, Because my lonely heart would bleed… They don’t mean much, if they mean anything at all, but they sound good in the moment. Euphoric, even.
I say that Livin’ Joy were ‘hitherto unknown’ before this, but in truth ‘Dreamer’ had made #18 – a not inconsiderable hit – just the year before. Its popularity kept growing, causing it to re-enter the lower reaches of the charts a couple of times, before a full re-release sent it walloping straight in at number one.
The band were good for another couple of Top 10 hits, but they did so without Janice Robinson, who left in 1996 to try a solo career. She has toured with Tina Turner and Lionel Richie, and written songs for a variety of different pop singers. Livin’ Joy meanwhile continued on with a different singer in Tameka Star. Wikipedia lists them as still active, but they haven’t released any new music since 1999.
We ended the last thirty #1s on Oasis, and ‘Some Might Say’, a clarion call for the Britpop era to come. But, looking back, the previous era can go under one name only: ‘Take That Totality’! (Send any better words beginning with ‘T’ on a postcard, please…) Yes, Britain’s biggest-ever boyband scored six chart-toppers over the last thirty, which has to be some kind of record. I’m not sure that even Elvis or The Beatles, during their periods of domination in the 1960s, managed six in one recap.
Their hits have ranged from the super-famous-and-slightly-overrated (‘Back for Good’) to the surprisingly enjoyable (‘Sure’) to the predictably so-so (‘Babe’ and ‘Everything Changes’) to a fun intergenerational duet (‘Relight My Fire’, with the lovely Lulu). The best for me, though I didn’t quite appreciate it at the time, was their first: ‘Pray’. While they’re not done yet – in real-time we’re on the verge of Robbie’s walkout – by our next recap they’ll have long since split, and Gary will have embarked on his wildly successful solo career. For all their #1s, though, the best boyband hit of the past two years was not by Take That… More on that in due course.
In and around all the screaming teeny-boppers, we’ve had some par-for-the-course reggae, with two reinventions of ‘60s classics. Chaka Demus & Pliers gave us a fun take on ‘Twist and Shout’, while Pato Banton gave us a slightly more predictable run through of ‘Baby Come Back’ alongside the Campbell brothers from UB40. We’ve also had the pre-requisite ‘90s power ballads: Meat Loaf’s batshit ‘I Would Do Anything For Love’, Mariah Carey’s unnecessary cover of ‘Without You’, and Celine Dion’s much more welcome ‘Think Twice’.
We also met, and endured, another of the longest-running #1s ever. Wet Wet Wet’s cover of ‘Love Is All Around’ was much lighter and more enjoyable than the Bryan Adams and Whitney Houston behemoths from last time out, but still didn’t merit anything like fifteen weeks at the top. (As an aside, the number of times I’ve typed the words ‘cover’ or ‘version’ in the last few minutes has me wondering just how many of the past thirty #1s were covers. Seven, apparently, which seems like a lot, but I haven’t time to go back and check…)
And of course, this being the mid-nineties, we’ve had our fair share of chart-topping dance records. Some classic, or at least well-respected – ‘Mr Vain’, D:Ream, ‘The Real Thing’ and Baby D – some very cheap and tacky – Doop, Whigfield, ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ and the Outhere Brothers (which was also the most profanity-strewn number one yet, by far …)
If all the above feels fairly expected, then we’ve also had a few firsts and anomalies. Some chap with a squiggly symbol for a name, formerly known as Prince, managed his one and only British chart-topper with the underwhelming ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’. We also had our sole grunge #1: Stiltskin’s ‘Inside’, which added to the growing sub-genre of ‘chart-toppers brought about by Levi’s adverts’. And our first and last football club #1: Man Utd branching out from league domination to take over the singles charts (with a little help from Status Quo).
Awards time, then! Starting, as is customary, with The ‘Meh’ Award for songs that failed to get my pulse even mildly aroused. And there have been a few so-so chart-toppers recently. I could plump for a couple of Take That contenders, in ‘Babe’ and ‘Everything Changes’, but the former had a weird creepiness to it and the latter was catchy enough. ‘Love Can Build a Bridge’ – this recap’s charity effort – was also fairly bland, though with a cast of characters that caught the eye at least. I could be controversial and give it to Prince… But no, I’m going for Gabrielle’s ‘Dreams’: nice enough, dinner-party soul-pop. It may be because it’s not fresh in the memory – it was the first of the thirty – or it may be because it’s just plain boring.
The WTAF Awardfor being interesting if nothing else is always a fun one to do. And boy, do we have an interesting range of contenders. Meat Loaf (and Jim Steinman’s) outrageous tale of all the things he would do for love barring one has to be in the mix for the bombast, the video, and the record-breaking runtime. Then there’s ‘Mr Blobby’ – a horrible record, but one which holds a strange, car-crash type fascination for me. And there’s Doop, with their eponymous hit, a disorienting fusion of Eurodance and ragtime…
It’s a toughie, and so I looked back at previous WTAF winners. It seems I’ve tended to go for songs I quite like – that are just a bit zany, or against the tide – rather than songs that disturb. ‘Nut Rocker’, ‘Kung Fu Fighting’, ‘Doctorin’ the Tardis’ and the like. So Blobby’s out. And so, sadly, are Doop. Meat Loaf wins!
Perhaps I should save Blobby for the next award: TheVery Worst Chart-Topper? For a long while I did think he’d have to win. But I didn’t reckon on two horror-shows from early 1995. When the Rednex came along sporting their brand of techno-bluegrass I thought they had it sewn up, for sure. Except then came The Outhere Brothers, with the moronic, repetitive, genuinely unfunny ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’, which none of its many remixes could redeem. In the interests of fairness, I should really listen to them both one more time… But why subject myself to that? ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ is a terrible song, but a song nonetheless. ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’ is a mess of tedious beats, shouting and swearing. It wins.
And finally, the 25thVery Best Chart-Topper. To be honest, the pickings were slim. Plenty of records I liked, few that I love. So I’ll dispense with the usual debating, the umming and aahing, and announce that since this was undoubtedly Take That’s era, I’m giving the award to East 17, for their classic Christmas ballad ‘Stay Another Day’. Tis the season, after all…
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.
‘Three Times a Lady’, by The Commodores.
‘What’s Another Year’, by Johnny Logan.
‘A Little Peace’, by Nicole.
‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police.
‘I Got You Babe’, by UB40 with Chrissie Hynde.
‘Who’s That Girl’, by Madonna.
‘A Groovy Kind of Love’, by Phil Collins.
‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’, by Band Aid II.
‘Please Don’t Go’ / ‘Game Boy’, by KWS.
‘Dreams’, by Gabrielle
The WTAF Award for being interesting if nothing else
‘I See the Moon’, by The Stargazers.
‘Lay Down Your Arms’, by Anne Shelton.
‘Hoots Mon’, by Lord Rockingham’s XI.
‘You’re Driving Me Crazy’, by The Temperance Seven.
‘Nut Rocker’, by B. Bumble & The Stingers.
‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, by Gerry & The Pacemakers.
‘Little Red Rooster’, by The Rolling Stones.
‘Puppet on a String’, by Sandie Shaw.
‘Fire’, by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown.
‘In the Year 2525 (Exordium and Terminus)’, by Zager & Evans.
‘Amazing Grace’, The Pipes & Drums & Military Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guard.
‘Kung Fu Fighting’, by Carl Douglas.
‘If’, by Telly Savalas.
‘Wuthering Heights’, by Kate Bush.
‘Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick’, by Ian Dury & The Blockheads.
‘Shaddap You Face’, by Joe Dolce Music Theatre.
‘It’s My Party’, by Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin.
‘Save Your Love’ by Renée & Renato.
‘Rock Me Amadeus’, by Falco.
‘Pump Up the Volume’ / ‘Anitina (The First Time I See She Dance)’, by M/A/R/R/S.
‘Doctorin’ the Tardis’, by The Timelords.
‘Sadeness Part 1’, by Enigma.
‘Ebeneezer Goode’, by The Shamen.
‘I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)’, by Meat Loaf
The Very Worst Chart-Toppers
‘Cara Mia’, by David Whitfield with Mantovani & His Orchestra.
‘The Man From Laramie’, by Jimmy Young.
‘Roulette’, by Russ Conway.
‘Wooden Heart’, by Elvis Presley.
‘Lovesick Blues’, by Frank Ifield.
‘Diane’, by The Bachelors.
‘The Minute You’re Gone’, by Cliff Richard.
‘Release Me’, by Engelbert Humperdinck.
‘Lily the Pink’, by The Scaffold.
‘All Kinds of Everything’, by Dana.
‘The Twelfth of Never’, by Donny Osmond.
‘The Streak’, by Ray Stevens.
‘No Charge’, by J. J. Barrie
‘Don’t Give Up On Us’, by David Soul
‘One Day at a Time’, by Lena Martell.
‘There’s No One Quite Like Grandma’, by St. Winifred’s School Choir.
‘I’ve Never Been to Me’, by Charlene.
‘Hello’, by Lionel Richie.
‘I Want to Know What Love Is’, by Foreigner.
‘Star Trekkin’’, by The Firm.
‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love for You’, by Glenn Medeiros.
‘Let’s Party’, by Jive Bunny & The Mastermixers.
‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’, by Bryan Adams.
‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’, by The Outhere Brothers
The Very Best Chart-Toppers
‘Such a Night’, by Johnnie Ray.
‘Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White’, by Perez ‘Prez’ Prado & His Orchestra.
‘Great Balls of Fire’, by Jerry Lee Lewis.
‘Cathy’s Clown’, by The Everly Brothers.
‘Telstar’, by The Tornadoes.
‘She Loves You’ by The Beatles.
‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’, by The Rolling Stones.
‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’, by Procol Harum.
‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’, by Marvin Gaye.
‘Baby Jump’, by Mungo Jerry.
‘Metal Guru’, by T. Rex.
‘Tiger Feet’, by Mud.
‘Space Oddity’, by David Bowie.
‘I Feel Love’, by Donna Summer.
‘Heart of Glass’, by Blondie.
‘The Winner Takes It All’, by ABBA.
‘My Camera Never Lies’, by Bucks Fizz.
‘Relax’ by Frankie Goes to Hollywood.
‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’, by Dead or Alive
‘Stand by Me’, by Ben E. King (Honorary Award)
‘It’s a Sin’, by Pet Shop Boys.
‘Theme from S-Express’, by S’Express.
‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, by Sinéad O’Connor.
‘Would I Lie to You?’, by Charles & Eddie
‘Stay Another Day’, by East 17
I’m planning on taking break over Christmas and New Year, but before I go I’ll be back next week with something special on Christmas #1s…
I’m both thrilled and downhearted that we’ve reached the beginning of the Oasis era. Much like I wrote in the intro to my last post, on Take That’s ‘Back for Good’… What can I add to the three decades’ worth of column inches dedicated to Britain’s most polarising band.
Some Might Say, by Oasis (their 1st of eight #1s)
1 week, from 30th April – 7th May 1995
Basically, what to say about Oasis that isn’t cliched? I need to approach this completely subjectively, then. Which isn’t hard, because Oasis were my first big musical love (OK, second… but we’ll deal with that Spice Girls-shaped elephant in the room when the time comes…) ‘Some Might Say’ has never been among my very favourite Oasis records but, actually, this is a good thing, as far as this post is concerned. It hasn’t been overplayed to death, and I’m glad that this made #1, and not the two #2 hits that followed.
On the other hand, I’d rather their two preceding singles – ‘Whatever’, or ‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’, had been the first chart-topper. ‘Some Might Say’ has some of the vim, the punkish energy of ‘Definitely Maybe’ – I’d say it’s the song from ‘What’s the Story…’ that could most easily slip onto their debut – but signs of bloat are already appearing. After a brilliant glam riff opening, it settles into a slightly plodding, overlong rock song (why, oh why, is this five and a half minutes long?) And, despite the long-held belief that Oasis were a rejection of grunge’s misery and introspection, there are some very heavy, grungy chords in the chorus.
I had a pop at Gary Barlow’s lyrics in that last post, and I have to call Noel out here too, even if this is where I tip into well-trodden cliché. Oasis lyrics walk the line between revelatory and ridiculous. One minute you’re thinking ‘Yes, profound!’. The next you’re thinking ‘Maybe not…’ Some might say they don’t believe in heaven, Go and tell it to the man who lives in hell… is a great line. Some might say you get what you’ve been given, If you don’t get yours I won’t get mine as well… is more at the ‘maybe not’ end. (Though we can all agree that The sink is full of fishes, She’s got dirty dishes on the brain… is a lyric for the ages…)
The star here, as in many of Oasis’s early songs, is the man interpreting these words, and making them his own. Liam. The last true rock star, and one of the all-time great frontmen. A beautiful moron (‘Some Might Say’ doesn’t have a proper video because he never showed up for the shoot), his sweetly aggressive vocals attack his brother’s unwieldy lines and transform them. Just try singing this song like he does. It’s very difficult – your voice ends up straining, and cracking, and getting lost among the walls of guitar (Oasis were, thankfully, never fans of understated production.)
Like I said, I once loved Oasis – growing up male, in small town Scotland, in the late ‘90s/early ‘00s, it was all but mandatory – but it is a love that has faded. I’ve accepted that they were limited, that they did have a habit of ‘borrowing’ riffs and melodies (even now I’ll listen to a Kinks album track and hear a bit that sounds familiar…), and that they believed their own hype a little too much. And yet, they were never as bad, as unoriginal, as much a Bargain Bucket Beatles, as some critics were desperate to make out.
Anyway, I’m writing as if this was their one and only chart-topper, not as if they have seven more to come. It’s easy to forget just how phenomenally successful they were. All seven of their studio albums entered the charts at #1, while ‘Some Might Say’ was the first of eight singles in a row to make either #1 or #2, between 1995 and 2000. It might not be the perfect song to be crowned their first chart-topper – the first chart-topper of the Britpop era even – but Some might say, We will find a brighter day… is perhaps the perfect summation of the Oasis manifesto.
These are the types of posts I least enjoy writing. Famous songs, that everyone knows, about which loads has already been said…
Back for Good, by Take That (their 6th of twelve #1s)
4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th April 1995
Quite often, too, they’re not songs I particularly like. And I should, in the interests of full-disclosure, admit off the bat that I’m not a huge fan of this record… I can recognise it as a good pop song – a well-constructed, grown-up pop song far beyond your usual boyband fare – and admire it thus. From a distance. With one listen per year, at most.
It’s the Barlow Conundrum, again. He’s often trying, to my ears at least, to write the perfect pop song. To prove that he and his band had long since grown beyond their ‘British New Kids on the Block’ origins. That he is to be Taken. Seriously. And of course he should be. He’s a very capable, competent songwriter. ‘Back for Good’ won an Ivor Novello award, one of British music’s ultimate accolades, for a start.
But… Compare and contrast this with another recent blockbuster boyband ballad, on a very similar lyrical theme: ‘Stay Another Day’. The lyrics to that are simple to the point of almost being trite. But something – something in their universality, in the way Brian Harvey delivers them like a lost child, in the song’s hidden subject matter – hits home in a way ‘Back for Good’ never manages.
Take the second verse here, in particular. Unaware but underlined, I figured out this story… In the corner of my mind, I celebrated glory… In the twist of separation, You excelled at being free… It all sounds clever, but does it actually mean anything? The harmonies are lovely, the want you back hook burrows its way in and never leaves, but is it all a bit fur coat and no knickers?
Or maybe it’s just me. ‘Back for Good’ has cropped up in pretty much every ‘Best songs of the…’ list for thirty years now. I am fully prepared for comments on how very wrong I am on this… But this record leaves me, like a fair old chunk of the Barlow Songbook, cold. Luckily for Take That, I am (sadly) not the arbiter of popular music, and this was a massive, massive hit all around the world. Even on the Billboard 100, where it made #7.
My feelings aside, ‘Back for Good’ was clearly the moment that Take That were made credible. Everyone who had written them off as just another boyband, even those way too cool for school, liked this record. I think it’s fair to say that without this song’s success, the band would not still be filling stadiums and topping the album charts in 2023. Back in 1995, and one of those aforementioned converts who confessed himself a fan of this song was Noel Gallagher. Speaking of whom…
Is 1995 the year with the biggest disparity between what it is remembered for, and what actually made #1? 1977 might have a case, the year punk exploded yet in which David Soul was the breakthrough star. 1995, though…?
Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle), by The Outhere Brothers (their 1st of two #1s)
1 week, from 26th March – 2nd April 1995
I mention this because this next number one has left me in a state of shock. Shock at how I don’t really remember it. Shock at some of the lyrics. And shock at just how bloody awful it is… Biiiyyaaatch!
I thought that Rednex had my upcoming ‘Worst #1 Award’ in the bag. But as horrible as ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ is, at least it is identifiable as a ‘song’. This is an absolute racket. The pitch of the singer’s voice as he repeats the title line: Don’t stop movin’ baby oh that booty drive me crazy…, the one-note beat and the bubble-popping sound effect, the way that that one line is chopped up over and over again, ad nauseum… Some mixes are better than others – and the video attached at the foot of this post is the most palatable version, with a Hi-NRG beat – but most are dire.
I’m torn between wrapping this post up as soon as possible, trying to forget that this record ever existed, and delving a bit deeper. The radio edit of ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’ is repetitively, mind-numbingly, boring. But that wasn’t the reason this made number one. For the other, non-edited mixes reveal this to be the filthiest number one single we’ve heard so far on this countdown.
No, make that one of the filthiest number ones, ever. Period. Even in this post-‘WAP’ world, the lyrics here still raise an eyebrow. There’s that opening Biiiyyaaatch! for a start. Then there’s: Put your ass on my face… I love the way your… No I can’t type the rest. Girl you’ve got to suck my… Nope, still can’t. I’m not a prude, but this isn’t something I’ve never had to consider in my seven hundred and seventeen previous posts. The worst word we’ve encountered so far has been, I think, ‘bullshit’. And that’s a word I heard on Radio 4 the other day… I knew the 1990s would see morals and standards loosen (God, I sound like Mary Whitehouse), but I though it would be gradual. A ‘bitch’ here and a ‘fuck’ there. But no, it all arrived at once, right here: a smorgasbord of vulgarity. Which means that ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’ is actually a hugely important chart-topper…
But nah, I don’t want to give it that sort of weight. It happened. Swearing in #1 singles is fine now. Let’s move on. (And anyway, luckily for all of us, The Outhere Brothers have an even bigger hit coming up very soon…) They were a duo from Chicago – yet another pair of fake chart-topping siblings – and this was their breakthrough hit, after previous releases such as ‘Pass the Toilet Paper’ had failed to chart. Thirteen-year-old boys around the world then kept the pair in hits for the next couple of years, though their subsequent album ‘1 Polish, 2 Biscuits and a Fish Sandwich’ wasn’t as successful (and you can look up the meaning of that title, if you dare…)
Back to what I mentioned in the intro, about 1995 being a strange year, in which most of the acts and songs we remember the year for didn’t make the top of the charts. It’s a theme I’ll return to, especially when a different gruesome twosome dominate later in the year. Up next, though, I’m sort of instantly proven wrong, for it’s the decade’s biggest boyband, with one of the nation’s best-loved songs…
Love Can Build a Bridge, by Cher (her 3rd of four #1s), Chrissie Hynde (her 2nd and final solo #1) and Neneh Cherry with Eric Clapton (their 1st and only #1s)
1 week, from 19th – 26th March 1995
What this? Cher… Chrissie Hynde?… Neneh Cherry and Eric Clapton? It can only mean one thing: charity single ahoy!
It probably means one other thing… That this record isn’t going to be much good. Not that it stinks – no, we’ve endured far worse chart-toppers in the name of a good cause. But following directly on from one of the all-time power-ballads, this one meanders by fairly blandly.
The three women gamely try to wring some cheer out of this tune, spending much of the video swaying arm in arm as if it was a trailer for ‘Steel Magnolia’s II’ (the fact that they do so while standing on a moving collage of famine victims seems slightly tasteless…) But really, a song with such an impressive cast-list should have little more life to it. The two moments that raise the pulse are the middle eight – When we stand together, It’s our finest hour… – and the solo, provided by one of the most famous guitarists ever to wield the instrument. File Eric Clapton under an ever-expanding folder titled: ‘legends poorly served by their ‘biggest’ hit’…
‘Love Can Build a Bridge’ was written and originally recorded by mother and daughter duo The Judds in 1990, with lyrics inspired by Naomi Judd’s battle against Hepatitis C. This version was the 1995 Comic Relief single, which is interesting, as there’s nothing ‘comic’ about this song. But considering that previous Comic Relief number ones have included Cliff and The Young One’s remake of ‘Living Doll’, and ‘The Stonk’, this comes as something of a relief (if you’ll pardon the pun).
Though this does mean that there’s not as much to write about here, compared to the truly heinous charity singles. The most noteworthy thing is that it is Clapton and Neneh Cherry’s highest-charting hit (it being the fourth of only five UK Top 10s for Cherry), and Chrissie Hynde’s final #1, after ‘Brass in Pocket’ with The Pretenders and a duet with UB40 (interestingly a cover of Sonny & Cher’s ‘I Got You Babe’). The one contributor that we will be hearing from again is, of course, Ms Sarkisian, who has the small matter of releasing the biggest-selling hit by a solo female… ever… to come.
We’ve had Whitney, we’ve had Mariah… Now we welcome onstage the 3rd member of the Three Tenoritas…
Think Twice, by Celine Dion (her 1st of two #1s)
7 weeks, from 29th January – 19th March 1995
It’s yet another colossal power ballad, of the style so beloved by the decade’s large-lunged divas. I was hard on ‘I Will Always Love You’, and down on ‘Without You’, and you probably think you know where this post is going. But, you’d be wrong. For this one goes straight to the top of the pile marked ‘Guilty Pleasures’.
What’s the difference between ‘Think Twice’ and those aforementioned crimes against eardrums? To be honest, I’m not sure. The first minute of this song is average, dull even. There are moody synths, as Celine Dion sings about her man starting to pull away. There are pan-pipes too, for God’s sake. It doesn’t sound promising. But at the start of the second verse, when the drums and guitars kick in, and Celine starts fighting for her man, the song transforms into a different beast.
My complaint about recent power ballads is that the sense of fun has drained out of them. They’ve become earnest and stodgy, not to mention that they’ve been clogging up the number one spot for months on end. But ‘Think Twice’ has a sense of OTT silliness that the best ‘80s power ballads – the likes of ‘Total Eclipse…’ and ‘Take My Breath Away’ – had. Then there’s the fact that it features an actual guitar solo! Not to mention the rhyming of ‘serious’ with ‘you or us’. And finally, there’s the way that Celine goes completely unhinged for the final chorus.
It’s impossible not join in with her ad-libs, the ba-ay-ay-bays and the NOnononoNOs, as this record hurtles to its gigantic conclusion. It’s all helped by the steamy video, in which Celine mopes around while a hunk in dungarees carves massive blocks of ice into sexy shapes. He storms off angrily, and Celine proceeds to caress and grind against his giant sculptures until he returns. It’s a cross between soft-porn and a tacky karaoke video, and it adds a further layer of flamboyance to what is already a piece of high camp.
This slow-burner of a power ballad had a suitably slow-burning journey towards becoming one of the biggest selling hits of the decade. Recorded in 1993, it was released as a single in September 1994, before finally making #1 five months later. Its fifteen-week climb to the top was a record and, in an interesting sign of the times, it was the first #1 not to be made available in vinyl.
Celine Dion had been a star in Quebec since the early ‘80s, but it wasn’t until 1990 that she started recording primarily in English. ‘Think Twice’ was just her 3rd Top 10 hit in the UK, but it set her up for many more. And although I like this much more than many of Houston or Carey’s monster ballads; I don’t have the same love for the rest of Dion’s career. She’s never really moved far beyond glossy ballads, and none of them came close to this classic. In fact, I suspect part of the reason that this record sounds so good is that it makes a refreshing change from hearing her signature song, her second number one… You know, the one involving an iceberg. And I won’t be anywhere near as nice about that dirge…
We’ve just ticked over the exact midway point of the nineties, as we head into 1995. One of the most renowned years in British music, during which Britpop, and some of the nation’s best-loved bands, went mainstream. And yes, we will get to all that… But kicking off the year we have something much less fondly remembered.
Cotton Eye Joe, by Rednex (their 1st and only #1)
3 weeks, from 8th – 29th January 1995
This jaw-clenchingly, skin tighteningly bad piece of techno-bluegrass can only be explained as a hangover from the festive period, from New Year’s parties full of people too drunk to care what was blasting out over the stereo… Oh, who can I kid? By now it’s clear that the British public need no excuse to send utter dross to the top of the charts. ‘Cotton Eyed Joe’ is shit – so shit it was guaranteed to be massive.
It was a perennial at my school discos, but I didn’t like it aged nine and haven’t chosen to hear it for the better part of thirty years. You need a strong stomach to listen to it even now: the mix of banjos, fiddles and heavy synths makes me feel very tense, something the horse and gunshot sound effects don’t do much to alleviate, while the aggressive chanting makes me wonder if hell is actually being locked in an eternal barn dance.
The video builds on this theme – I’m genuinely not sure if they were going for something funny, or for something more like a horror movie. The Rednex all play straggly-haired, yellow-teethed, rat-fondling hillbillies, who appear to be subjecting a younger, prettier girl to a never-ending ride on a bucking bronco. I don’t say this at all lightly, but I would take ‘Mr Blobby’ over this scary mess.
Rednex were Swedish (not American, sadly) and had stage names like Bobby Sue and Ken Tacky. ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ was their first hit, and in the UK they would manage only one more of note: ‘Old Pop in an Oak’ which made #12. In Sweden they remained successful well into the 2000s, scoring chart-toppers there as late as 2008! The mind boggles… The album that their two biggest hits came from was titled ‘Sex and Violins’, which is possibly the only funny thing the band ever put their name to.
Sad thing is, the history behind ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ is quite interesting. It pre-dates the US Civil War, probably originating among black slaves in the cotton fields. Proposals for what the phrase means vary from someone being drunk, to someone with milky cataracts, to the contrast between black skin and white eyeballs. It was first published in 1882, and has been recorded in country, polka, and trad-Irish versions, as well as featuring in the movie ‘Urban Cowboy’.
All that history has been obliterated by the Rednex version, which became a worldwide hit and which we will all be hearing until our dying days. It even made the charts in the US, which was unusual for a Eurodance track, and became a sports event/kids’ party standard. In recent years, some sports teams have stopped playing it in their stadiums due to the song’s potentially racist origins. Usually I’m not a fan of cancel culture, but I’ll make an exception if it means never hearing this particular chart-topper ever again…
The UK Number Ones Blog 