904. ‘Eternal Flame’, by Atomic Kitten

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the end of the Bangles, this version of ‘Eternal Flame’ was the official relaunch of Atomic Kitten, Kerry Katona having been replaced by Jenny Frost during the promotion of their previous number one.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…

626. ‘Eternal Flame’, by The Bangles

The school disco is almost at an end. Time to pluck up the courage to finally leave the safety of the shadows, and to ask your crush if they might, you know, maybe, like, want to dance…?

Eternal Flame, by The Bangles (their 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 9th April – 7th May 1989

‘Eternal Flame’ is a classic last-dance smoocher, from the days when a last dance was a thing. In fact, I’d rank this in second place behind Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’ in the very niche ‘Classic 80s Last Dance Number Ones’ category. (When did last dances stop? Or are they still around, and it’s just been a good decade and a half since I stayed in a nightclub until closing time…?) Anyway, this one’s got a good formula: start off simple, with Susanna Hoff’s crystal-clear voice (legend has it she recorded her vocals in the nude, which lent her voice that trembling vulnerability), and a slightly annoying typewriter’s ting, before building.

The ‘eternal flame’ of the title is reported to have been the one that burns at Graceland, in Elvis’s memory, and where The Bangles had recently been given a tour. Mixing this image into a traditional love song leads to some slightly creepy lyrics: I watch you when you are sleeping, You belong with me… It still works, though, because the rest of the song is so overwrought.

It’s not really The Bangles traditional sound – think ‘Manic Monday’ or ‘Walk Like an Egyptian’ – and since female rock bands are rarer than hens’ teeth, it’s a shame that it took such a departure for them to make number one around the globe. It’s a decent ballad, one that comes together well when the four members start to harmonise like a gospel choir; but quite conservative. It would work well in an Andrew Lloyd-Webber musical.

By the final chorus, as those big eighties drums come pounding in for yet another encore, ‘Eternal Flame’ has become a power-ballad. In fact, the moment the drums enter is custom made for finally leaning in for that long-imagined snog. It should be a big moment… But it’s 1989, and we’ve heard a lot of this before. There’s nothing wrong with the song, but I’m not enjoying it as much as I thought I would…

It was The Bangles’ biggest hit – the world’s biggest-ever hit by an all-female band, no less – but it also hastened their break-up. The pushing of Hoffs as the lead singer meant that the other members were keen to break away. They split later in 1989, and although they’ve since reformed, none of their subsequent singles have come close to troubling the Top 10.