I was nonplussed when Gary Barlow launched his solo career with the dreary ballad ‘Forever Love’. Nonplussed, and bored. Was that it, from the man meant to be the next George Michael?
Love Won’t Wait, by Gary Barlow (his 2nd of three solo #1s)
1 week, from 4th – 11th May 1997
I was also surprised that I had no recollection of ever hearing what must have been a hugely anticipated record. Almost a year later, Barlow’s debut album was ready, and his second single was released ahead of it. ‘Love Won’t Wait’ also doesn’t ring a bell, but at least it’s relatively up-tempo. There’s a hint of disco in the beat, and the bridge has a soaring chord progression. This might be… fun?
And then we reach the chorus, and I do recognise this one! Love won’t wait, Forever and a day… It’s a pretty basic, soul-pop song with some nice seventies touches. One reviewer compared it to Cliff Richard’s output from that time, and now I can’t un-hear that. It also sounds like the sort of song Take That would have chucked out as the third or fourth single from one of their earlier albums. It’s no great shakes, is what I’m saying; but it’s much better than ‘Forever Love’.
It also has an interesting back-story. It was written by none other than Madonna, during sessions for her ‘Bedtime Stories’ album in 1994. I couldn’t imagine something this unremarkable coming from Madge, but someone’s uploaded the demo onto YouTube. It feels more Motown than disco, and even in its rough form it sounds better than Barlow’s version. That’s true star quality, I suppose.
And I also suppose we can claim this as a belated second ‘90s #1 for Madonna, her first since ‘Vogue’. She will be back soon, though, with a chart-topper under her own steam. Did anyone at the time imagine that we would have to wait so much longer for another Gary Barlow chart-topper, though? The album, ‘Open Road’, produced just one further Top 10 hit, while his second solo album in 1999 produced none. He won’t trouble the top spot for a decade, until Take That have their spectacular comeback, and won’t manage his final solo #1 for another fifteen years.
I have been, and probably still am, a bit harsh on Gary Barlow. Yes, he’s written some great pop songs. But though he’s finally achieved his goal, and ascended to the British pop pantheon, better late than never, he’s no Cliff, Elton, or George Michael. No Robbie Williams either, the man who will be taking the mantle of Britain’s Biggest Pop Star from under his former bandmate’s nose, very soon.
Let’s recap, then. And it’s a landmark: our the 25th, the Silver Recap!
The past thirty #1s have taken us across a regulation year and a half of chart-topping history, from spring 1995 to late autumn 1996. This spell has run pretty much concurrent with the very height of Britpop but, as I discussed in a special post, very little of it actually made the top. We’ve had one each from Oasis and Blur – the latter of whom won the ridiculously hyped ‘Battle of Britpop’ – and not much else.
Away from the Big Two, you could argue that the Lightning Seeds were a Britpop band, and that almost thirty years on their Euro ’96 anthem ‘Three Lions’ is the genre’s most enduring hit. You could also argue that the Prodigy and the Chemical Brothers, while primarily dance acts, had strong Britpop elements in their two #1s (especially ‘Setting Sun’, with Noel Gallagher on vocals). We could even really stretch things and claim Babylon Zoo’s ‘Spaceman’ for Britpop, as there were elements of it mixed in amongst the techno and the grunge. I won’t go so far as to claim Texas-based Deep Blue Something for Britpop; but they did give us our one other rock-based chart-topper, ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.
Britpop aside, one of the other big recent stories was Take That – the decade’s biggest boyband – bowing out after eight number ones in less than three years. They did so with the overblown ‘Never Forget’ and a fairly phoned-in cover of ‘How Deep Is Your Love’, before frontman Gary Barlow launched a solo career with the instantly forgettable ‘Forever Love’. Don’t worry, Take That will be back – just not for a few recaps yet.
1995-6 can also be pinpointed as the moment when rap went mainstream. It’s a genre that has been cropping up in the top spot, every now and then, since the mid-eighties. Often, though, hip-hop has been treated as a novelty: think Vanilla Ice, or Partners in Kryme, or the jarring rap from ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’. Coolio’s ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’ was uncompromisingly real, though, and had an important message; while The Fugees’ take on Roberta Flack’s ‘Killing Me Softly’ showed how to incorporate rap into a pop song without taking away its edge. This pair remain two of the highest-selling hip-hop records of all time, and paved the way for the likes of ‘Ready or Not’, the Fugees’ much less commercial-sounding follow-up.
Elsewhere, Michael Jackson had his most successful chart period, many years after his true artistic peak, scoring two #1s in four months with the sappy ‘You Are Not Alone’ and the messianic ‘Earth Song’. Another pop superstar, George Michael, bowed out from chart-topping duty with the touching (if a little dull) ‘Jesus to a Child’, and a much more uplifting ode to casual sex in ‘Fastlove’. Shaggy gave us our now mandatory shot of ‘90s reggae, Livin’ Joy provided the dance-banger (though our dance-banger ratio is much down on recent recaps), and Gina G brought us the latest camp Eurovision classic.
One other thing I should mention before we get to the awards is that in the second half of 1996 a pretty big shift occurred. Pop music started to sound very modern. Ground Zero is the Spice Girls’ ‘Wannabe’, which introduced us to a genuine pop phenomenon, and to a breezy, streetwise nineties-bubblegum sound that will set the standard for pop as we barrel towards the new millennium. But it wasn’t just the Spice Girls. Mark Morrison, Peter Andre, and Boyzone, all made the top with songs that sound like pop music will, for better or for worse, from now until the mid-00s. The fact that I was almost eleven at the time of this recap, and for the first time fully aware of what was in the charts, perhaps makes this moment seem bigger than it does for somebody older or younger than me. But I think there’s something in my take on mid-1996 marking a shift into ‘modern’ pop.
Anyway, to the awards. Starting as is now traditional with The ‘Meh’ Award, we peruse the songs that stirred us very little. I have a shortlist that includes MJ’s ‘You Are Not Alone’, George Michael’s ‘Jesus to a Child’, and Boyzone’s simpering cover of ‘Words’. But for the winner I’m choosing Gary Barlow’s utterly underwhelming ‘Forever Love’, which was so dull it basically killed his solo career before it had even begun.
The WTAF Awardfor being interesting if nothing else has a few decent choices this time around. There’s another MJ contender, the overblown ‘Earth Song’. There’s the latest Levi’s Jeans chart-topper: Babylon Zoo’s zany, genre-hopping ‘Spaceman’. There’s the intense ‘Firestarter’, which had Middle England clutching their pearls. There’s even ‘Wannabe’, a phenomenon, yes; but also a truly bizarre pop song when you actually sit down and listen to it. Of the four, ‘Wannabe’ is a stretch, ‘Earth Song’ is a little too well-intentioned, and ‘Firestarter’ a little too good, for this award. Which leaves Babylon Zoo’s nihilistic anthem for the win!
You may have noticed that I haven’t yet mentioned the one act that have dominated the past year and a half of chart action… That’s because I was saving them for TheVery Worst Chart-Topper award. I am talking, of course, about Robson & Jerome, the first (though sadly not the last) of Simon Cowell’s crimes against music. Three #1s, thirteen weeks at the top, seven cover versions spread across their various discs… They are the only contender here, it’s just a question of which record to choose. It makes sense to go for the first one, ‘Unchained Melody’ / ‘White Cliffs of Dover’, because it was A) terrible, B) number one for the longest stretch, and C) it is currently the best-selling single of the entire decade…
Finally, then, the latest Very Best Chart-Topper. Four contenders spring to mind, all from 1996. (It has been a much better year for #1s than 1995, which could probably go down as one of the very worst…) In chronological order we have: Oasis’s soaring ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’, the Prodigy’s incendiary (gettit?) ‘Firestarter’, the Chemical Brothers’ Beatles-based banger ‘Setting Sun’, and ‘Say You’ll Be There’, AKA The Spice Girls best song.
I’m torn. This is probably my only chance of giving the award to my two favourite childhood groups, Oasis and the Spice Girls. But I think the Spice’s would be a stretch – as fun as SYBT is – and ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ has simply been done by this point. ‘Firestarter’ and ‘Setting Sun’ are cut from the same cloth, and going by my write ups I enjoyed the latter more. ‘Firestarter’ was a huge cultural moment, but I think ‘Setting Sun’ is the better record. Plus, with Noel G on vocals it means Oasis still get a look in (and that the Beatles do kind of claim their second ‘Very Best’ award…) The Chemical Brothers it is!
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.
‘Forever Love’, by Gary Barlow.
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.
‘Spaceman’, by Babylon Zoo.
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.
‘Unchained Melody’ / ‘White Cliffs of Dover’, by Robson & Jerome.
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.
‘Setting Sun’, by The Chemical Brothers.
Up next, we’ll briefly pause the regular countdown. I’m going to launch a new series, and take us back to the 1970s…
Have I ever heard this song before…? The much-anticipated solo debut from Take That’s leading man? I was about to start my final year of primary school, fairly well up on the pop hits of the day, and yet…
Forever Love, by Gary Barlow (his 1st of three solo #1s)
1 week, from 14th – 21st July 1996
There’s a chance I may never have heard ‘Forever Love’ before; but there’s also a chance I’ve heard it a hundred times and simply forgotten. It is… Dull. Bland. Pedestrian. Lacking any sort of hook, or memorable lines. Love it has, So many beautiful faces, Sharing lives, And sharing days… See what I mean. Meh.
My last two posts have been lengthy, so this one can be short and sweet. Dull love song has week at number one. Hardly the first time, and at least it was just one week. Except, ‘Forever Love’ should be so much bigger, so much more of an event. Gary Barlow was the biggest pop star in the land, striking out alone. The next George Michael, maybe?
I think he was probably trying too hard. This record is clearly well produced, something that took a lot of time and careful thought. But it’s too fussy, too needlessly ornate. The album-version intro is so long, and overwrought, that you’re bored before Gary has even opened his mouth. At the three minute mark you check how long is left, and sigh when you see there are two more to go… I’ve never written a classic pop song, but I bet nobody that’s managed it ever sat down at their piano and said ‘today is the day I write something timeless!’ You feel that Barlow probably set himself that goal, though.
The obvious comparison to make is with his former bandmate, the one who had jumped ship first and was also about to release his debut single, a cover of ‘Freedom’ by George Michael (clearly both men had the same ambition). Initially it was Gary who had the bigger hits, but it was Robbie Williams who understood better what a pop star is about, what the public wants: some catchy tunes and some showmanship. Most of them don’t care about the ‘craft’. (Also, Robbie very sensibly got someone in to help him write said tunes…)
And so Robbie will very soon eclipse his estranged bandmate. Gary has one further solo number one to come – another that, at first glance, I don’t think I’ve heard for the best part of three decades – before a decade in the wilderness beckons.
For many, Take That peaked with ‘Back for Good’, their sixth and best-loved number one single. Where to go from there, then? Back to decent-but-unremarkable pop, such as ‘Sure’? Or do they get Jim Steinman, a kids’ choir, and a sample from Verdi’s ‘Requiem’, and throw together an extravagantly OTT remake of a track from their most recent album?
Never Forget, by Take That (their 7th of twelve #1s)
3 weeks, from 30th July – 20th August 1995
I’m sure you already know, but it was the latter. Trumpets of the type usually reserved for announcing royalty herald this next chart-topper. Angelic children’s voices telling us that we’ve come so far, and we’ve reached so high… Depending how you score on the Barlow-tolerance meter, this is either further evidence that Take That were not just another boyband… Or the sound of them, and their songwriter-in-chief, disappearing up their collective arses.
When all the choirs and the Verdi are done, and the song slips into a bog-standard mid-nineties soul-pop beat, it’s a little disappointing. Much of this song’s near seven-minute runtime is fairly mundane, but nobody remembers that. They remember the soaring chorus (that takes well over two minutes to arrive) and the extended fade-out, rather than the dull verses.
It’s now a standard boyband cliché: the song about how fame hasn’t changed them, or how fame isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. This record might be where that trope stems from, as Howard Donald (on rare lead-vocal duty) announces weighty lyrics like We’ve had success, We’ve had good times, But remember this… while a slideshow of pictures from their childhoods plays in the video, interspersed with clips of them winning awards and generally being adored.
Again, if you have a cynical little mind (like I do) you could see this entire project as a massive humblebrag. My mind starts to wondering if Robbie left before or after ‘Never Forget’, as his voice is nowhere to be heard. But then he appears, eventually, to throw some ad-libs around in the long fade-out. Perhaps his diminished role is a clue as to why he did finally quit the band, post-recording but before ‘Never Forget’ was released. He’s had a fairly small role in all but one of their #1s (‘Everything Changes’), with nothing to suggest that he was going to be the huge solo star that he is.
I do like aspects of this single, just in case I’ve sounded too down on it. The sheer scale of it, the Jim Steinman-isation of it. The chorus is one of their very best, too. But by the six minute mark I’ve had my fill, and there’s a false ending that really tests the patience. Still, it was a huge hit – of course it was – and their seventh chart-topper in just two years. Yet it was the beginning of the end. Robbie had left, no further singles were released from the album, and there’s only a fairly limp Bee Gees cover to come before Britain’s biggest boyband are laid to rest. For a bit, anyway.
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…
Any act that racks up twelve number ones is going to have some chart-toppers that are better remembered than others… May I present to you, then, Take That’s all-but-forgotten #1.
Sure, by Take That (their 5th of twelve #1s)
2 weeks, from 9th – 23rd October 1994
I’m ‘sure’ I’ve heard this somewhere – the sure, so sure hook in the chorus was familiar – but the rest was a surprise. A pleasant surprise at that. The intro fools you, with lullabying chords suggesting that a syrupy ballad is on its way. But then everything goes a bit funky: with a squelchy bass, and lots of horns and scratchy turntables. If Take That’s previous hits had relied on retro, disco influences – ‘Relight My Fire’ and ‘Everything Changes’ – then ‘Sure’ sees the band turn to modern, American R&B.
Though, in fairness, this new jack swing beat had been around for a while, so they were actually quite late to the party. Still, it’s a solid pop song, and boybands are always at their most bearable when they’re keeping things upbeat. The lyrics are a bit PG, compared to similar acts – it’s been well over three years since Color Me Badd wanted to sex us up. Though there is a reference here to Gary Barlow’s relationship checklist: It’s got to be social, compatible, sexual, irresistible… (Take That’s big ‘rivals’ East 17 were a lot steamier on hits like ‘Deep’, but then they weren’t scoring #1 after #1. Definitely something to be said for keeping it family-friendly.)
Speaking of Mr Barlow, I do wish he’d relinquished lead vocal duty for this one. As fun a song as it is, he just doesn’t convince as a sexy alpha on the record, or when the lads cut a slick dance routine in the video. I’ve written in my previous posts on Take That that he clearly had ambitions above ‘boyband star’ – ambitions that will come to fruition with their next number one – and on the basis of their first five chart-toppers he was clearly the dominant force. Possibly too dominant. Small wonder Robbie wanted to break free…
‘Sure’ was the lead single from the band’s third album, and so was guaranteed to be a massive hit. It got the epic, seven-minute video treatment too. Though in truth half the video tells a very dull story in which the boys babysit a little girl while also trying to get ready for a house party. (Skip forward three and a half minutes if you just want to hear the actual song.) And yet, like I said in the intro, this record feels forgotten among their more famous hits. None more so than their sixth chart-topper: a genuinely huge pop-culture moment, coming along very soon.
If we’re being reductionists, we can distil the entire 1990s down to four chart-topping acts. Oasis, of course, and Blur. The Spice Girls. And Take That. And of the four, it’s the boy band who make it to number one first. Can we finally declare that the nineties, after many a false start, begin now…?
Pray, by Take That (their 1st of twelve #1s)
4 weeks, from 11th July – 8th August 1993
This record actually sounds quite cool – a new-jack swing beat and some edgy horn samples – until the voice comes in. Gary Barlow. Was he ever cool? I’d assumed he must have been, because he was young and in a hot new boyband. But even here, in his prime, he looks like the annoyingly well-behaved cousin that your mum insists on comparing you to… Why can’t you start a hugely successful boyband like Gary…? I mean, who’s he fooling, in the video, writhing around on the beach with his shirt hanging open.
Anyway, this isn’t the time to launch head first into my feelings on Gary Barlow (we can save that for his ill-fated solo career). He may sing lead here, but there are four other boys involved. And, to be fair, they all do their share of topless writhing in the video: on the beach, in the surf, in a fountain, entwined in the fronds of a banyan tree. On the one hand it’s quite arty; on the other it’s completely gratuitous.
The song itself is a funny mix. It treads a similar path to the Gabrielle hit that came before it: the verses are slow, wordy, and strangely lacking in hooks, considering that this is a pop song aimed at teenage girls. Barlow has always had ambition, writing songs that go above and beyond what you’d expect from his genre. He’s also always had the annoying habit of pulling a great chorus out of his arse. Just in time it comes racing in… Before I even close my eyes… All I do each night is pray…
We’ve had a few American boybands warming up the number one slot before this, in the shape of NKOTB, Color Me Badd, and Boyz II Men. But in the UK at least, Take That are the boyband of the decade. Perhaps of all time (1 Direction might have something to say about that, but I can’t bring myself to check the actual sales figures…) Either way, we’re going to be hearing an awful – interpret that word however you wish – lot of them in the coming posts.
And although they are the boyband of the decade, ‘Pray’ isn’t one of their hits that has been played to death. Which means that it’s actually fine to hear this again, and to enjoy the moments that soar past the sludgy verses. Take That had had quite a slow rise to the top, compared to some other pop acts. Their first release, the Hi-NRG ‘Do What U Like’ made #82 in the summer of 1991, and they slowly shed the pop-dance, scored hits with covers of Tavares and Barry Manilow, and went a bit more sophisticated. Once ‘Pray’ made #1, the rest was history. Though few at the time could have imagined that their chart-topping career would span almost two decades…
The UK Number Ones Blog 