billboard hot 100

What Does It Mean to Be Number One…?

/ UK #1s blog / 5 Comments

For our fourth guest post of the week, Keith (AKA nostalgicitalian) is pondering a philosophical point that all music lovers will have contended with at some time… The enduring popularity of terrible songs.

My friend Stewart, over at The UK Number Ones Blog reached out a while back and asked if I’d participate in a guest feature. By the time this posts, his site will have almost reached its 1000th number one song. This guest post is to help celebrate that amazing achievement.

Stewart gave us guest writers a lot of freedom. We could write whatever we want, as long as it has a connection to the “top of the charts.” With that being said, let’s pause for a moment and define “number one.”

According to Merriam-Webster: “Number one most commonly refers to the primary, most important, or highest-ranking person, thing, or priority in a given group.” I like this definition a little bit better: “Something that is first in rank or highest in quality.”

In other words, a number one song should be something of high quality. It should be the “best” song on the chart, but that isn’t always the case. You can glance over every Billboard Hot 100 chart and see for yourself here.

As I looked over the charts, I found that there were plenty of songs that had me wondering, “Just how did that piece of garbage go to number one?!” For starters, here is a quick list of number one songs from the 1960’s that left me shaking my head: ‘Alley Oop’, ‘Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini’, ‘Mr. Custer’, ‘Sukiyaki’, ‘Dominique’, ‘Ringo’, ‘Winchester Cathedral’, and ‘Honey’.  Some of them were number one for multiple weeks! 

I realize that some of those would be considered novelty songs. Novelty songs would begin to fade from the chart in the ’80s, but there were still some that hit number one in the ’70s.  Who can forget ‘The Candy Man’, ‘My Ding-a-Ling’, ‘The Streak’, and the awful ‘Disco Duck’?  Maybe I should rephrase the question to read “Who would like to forget them?” When you go back to the definition, is Disco Duck “something that is first in rank or highest in quality?” I highly doubt it! 

In 1996, the ‘Macarena’ was number one for a whopping fourteen weeks!  For what it is worth, it was a dance craze (much like ‘The Twist’ in the ’60s, which also went to number one).  It played at weddings and parties as well as on the radio.  It truly was popular, but was it really the best song of 1996?  There were only nine number one songs that year. You could argue that ‘One Sweet Day’ from Mariah Carey & Boyz II Men (11 weeks) or ‘Because You Loved Me’ from Celine Dion (6 weeks) were better songs, but musical tastes are subjective.

While I don’t find myself listening to much “current” music, there are certainly songs that fall into that category that I like.  However, I will offer one more song that I cannot believe spent multiple weeks at number one. Consider 2020’s ‘The Box’ by Roddy Rich. It contains many uses of the F-word and the N-word, and references to female genitalia, sexual acts and sexual innuendo. This was an 11-week number one song.

If a number one song should represent the “highest in quality,” and considering the songs presented above, does a song reaching number one really mean anything? I used to believe it did, but looking back I’m not so sure. One is just a number.

Keith writes about music, pop culture and life at nostalgicitalian.com. Thanks again Keith, for an original take on our topic. And for not giving in to nostalgia, and for pointing out that crap songs have been around for just as long as good ones!

I think this post is the perfect companion for our ongoing polls, in which you can choose your ‘best’ and ‘worst’ from my own favourite and least-favourite chart-toppers. Well over three-hundred and fifty votes have been cast so far, and it is still very tight at the top of both polls. Every vote counts! Results will go out on Sunday.

The Billboard Hot 100 Vs The UK Singles Chart

/ UK #1s blog / 11 Comments

Our next guest post comes from another long-time follower, who joined our journey sometime around the late 1950s. Max (aka Badfinger) blogs on music and pop culture at powerpop.blog, and has kept up with our wanderings through the charts even though we left his preferred ’60s and ’70s eras behind a while back. Today he’s writing about a lost hit from that time, and how it highlights the differences between the charts on either side of the Atlantic…

When I was growing up, my sister had this single. It was cracked, so she taped the B-side with scotch tape, and I would listen to it over and over. Of course, it went like “Crimson and Clov-CLICK-er.” But I didn’t care; it was a great song to me even with the hideous CLICK.

Now to the subject of the post. I’ve always been fascinated by how some bands could be huge in one country and barely make a dent in another. In America, we missed out on a lot of British acts like T. Rex, Status Quo, and Slade. At the same time, the UK never fully embraced some major American artists such as CCR, Bob Seger, and Grand Funk Railroad. They were certainly known there, but they never enjoyed the kind of success they had back home. I always wondered about that in bands and songs.

While I was writing up this song up a few years ago and typing out the chart position of it, I was shocked when I saw a blank in the UK chart position. I thought the source was wrong, so I emailed Stewart; no dice, it didn’t chart. This song is one of those records that proves the charts don’t always make sense. Tommy James and the Shondells were no strangers to success in the UK. ‘Mony Mony‘ had reached No. 1 there. But when it was released in early 1969, it failed to chart at all.

Part of the problem may have been that the song was unlike anything else on the radio at the time. It moved at a slower pace at mid-tempo. The tremolo effects on Tommy James’ voice and guitar gave it a dreamy sound. American audiences loved it. British listeners may have found it a little too different, bubblegum, or old hat. The UK music scene was changing quickly in 1969. Harder rock bands and progressive groups were starting to get more attention.

There is also the possibility that the record simply did not receive the promotion it needed. Maybe ‘Crimson and Clover’ (released January 1969) came too close after ‘Mony Mony’ (March 1968). Tommy James was always a bigger act in the United States and Canada than in Britain. In those days, radio play and television appearances could make a huge difference. If a record was not pushed hard enough, a song could get lost among dozens of new releases arriving every week. Of course, there was always the opposite, such as Ian Dury and the Blockheads, ‘Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick’, and many others that hit number 1 in the UK and did nothing here.

Just so everyone knows, I’m not knocking the UK for it not charting. It’s just amazing to me, though, how one song can be so big in one country and flop in the other…either way! Whatever the reason, Joan Jett actually charted Crimson and Clover in 1982 at #60 in the UK, and her version peaked at #7 in America and #4 in Canada. At least it made an appearance in the UK Charts!

Thanks again, Max. Everyone else be sure to check out his blogs, through which I’ve discovered so many songs over the years. And don’t forget to vote for the Best and Worst #1s! Results out on Sunday!