849. ‘Pure Shores’, by All Saints

The fifties had rock and roll, the sixties had beat bands and psychedelia. The seventies had glam, disco, and punk, while the eighties had new wave and new romantics. The nineties had hip-hop and Britpop, not to mention dance. The 2000s have… What do the 2000s have? In fact, what musical movements of any sort does the 21st century have…?

Pure Shores, by All Saints (their 4th of five #1s)

2 weeks, from 20th February – 5th March 2000

The new millennium provides an interesting dividing line, after which the Pop River reaches its delta, loses momentum, and splits into lots of little tributaries. It’s all to do with something called ‘the internet’, I think, taking power away from record companies and radio stations, and letting people discover all the music they could ever have dreamed of at the whir of a dial-up modem and the click of a mouse. The death of the monoculture, and all that. (Which isn’t to suggest that pop music’s journey had been relentlessly forward-moving over the first fifty years of the singles chart. Glam owed a debt to rock ‘n’ roll, Britpop owed a debt to the sixties, and so on …)

Anyway. That’s my long-winded way of getting around to saying that if the 21st century has a musical movement, I’d argue that it’s not so much a sound as a gender. Women. Female pop stars. Britney, Beyoncé, Gaga and Swift, to scratch but the tip of the iceberg. (And again, this is not to suggest that Connie Francis, Dusty Springfield, Diana Ross and Madonna were all figments of the 20th century imagination. Just indulge me…)

The dominance of the female pop star also meant – especially in the case of Britain in the 2000s – girl groups. In a few years I’ll be going wild for the cutting-edge pop of Sugababes and Girls Aloud, who even the likes of the NME will be rushing to anoint as the new avant-garde. All of which starts here, with the return of All Saints.

Phew. Having almost used up my regular wordcount with that intro, I’d better crack right into the song. ‘Pure Shores’ is described as ‘dream pop’, and it is definitely a step away from the group’s R&B-focused 1998 hits. The verses are laid-back, ambient, with a thrumming bass and lots of shimmering effects. We take detours between the verses for some whale calls and echoey backing vocals. It’s a pop song with the confidence to take its time, and to take us to some odd places. It was produced by electronic pioneer William Orbit, who is most famous perhaps for his work with Madonna around the same time, and who also worked with Blur, Prince, and U2.

But it is still a pop song, and the success of such things hinge on choruses. ‘Pure Shores’, for all its unusual soundscaping, remembers to click things into gear for a memorable I’m movin’, I’m comin’, Can you hear what I hear… Perhaps I’m of just the right age, but there are few choruses that transport me to a particular place and time like this one. It’s calling you my dear, Out of reach… The best bit of the song, though, is the hard-edged middle-eight, all industrial synths, and the following key change to take us home.

‘Pure Shores’ was written to order for the Leonardo Di Caprio movie ‘The Beach’, hence the Take me to my beach… line (the title doesn’t appear in the lyrics but certainly fits in with the film’s theme). Shaznay Lewis wrote most of the lyrics on a transatlantic flight, which is impressive, and not something many girl group members would be capable of doing, adding another layer of respectability to this tune.

Having said all that, and as good as ‘Pure Shores’ is, I think All Saints’ final chart-topper is even better. Both tracks, bookending the year 2000, set the tone for what pop music, specifically pop music fronted by women, could achieve in the years to come…

833. ‘Mi Chico Latino’, by Geri Halliwell

After a slightly disappointing start to her solo career, missing out on #1 by a few hundred copies to Boyzone, Ginger becomes the second Spice Girl to make top spot away from the band, and the first to do so completely on her own…

Mi Chico Latino, by Geri Halliwell (her 1st of four solo #1s)

1 week, from 22nd – 29th August 1999

Just a few weeks on from ‘Livin’ la Vida Loca’, Geri Halliwell hops aboard the Latin-revival bandwagon. Or is it the mid-80s Madonna bandwagon? For this slice of Spanish silliness owes quite a large debt to Madge’s 1987 chart-topper ‘La Isla Bonita’. It also reminds me of holiday classic ‘Lambada’ in the melancholy chord progressions, not to mention ‘Viva Forever’s flamenco guitars, and even ‘Spice Up Your Life’ in the propulsive beat.

But what ‘Mi Chico Latino’ lacks in originality, it makes up for in camp charm. From the start, Geri clearly knew that her core fanbase were gay men, and she had no illusions of much wider appeal. (The video features a liberal amount of men in trunks, while the ‘B’-side was literally titled ‘G.A.Y.’) And she is, as has been well documented, no great vocalist. But she carries this tune along with a likeable purr in her voice.

Geri has, I have just discovered, a Spanish mother, which gives the lyrics a little more respectability. She chucks around some GCSE-level stuff like confetti – Donde esta… Yo no se… – but I’m fairly sure there was no mention of el hombre con fuego en la sangre in the textbooks my school used… I might have studied a bit harder if there had been.

Like the Westlife song it replaced at number one, nobody is going to argue that ‘Mi Chico Latino’ is a classic. But at the same time, it is. Sort of. A classic of the summer of ’99, when Latin pop was having a resurgence, and a one-time Spice Girl was on her way to becoming the country’s biggest female star, for a year or two at least. There’s something quite appealing in the way this record barrels along, on the castanets and the ayayays. ‘Loveably crap’ might be a good way to sum it up. That might also be a good way to sum up the entire solo career Geri Halliwell, my now-favourite Spice Girl.

819. ‘Blame It on the Weatherman’, by B*Witched

Storms gather, thunderclouds ripen, droplets fall like one of those ‘soft noise for sleep’ playlists… B*Witched are getting moody.

Blame It on the Weatherman, by B*Witched (their 4th and final #1)

1 week, from 21st – 28th March 1999

Before we get stuck into the meat of this next number one, can I ponder for a second what the most used non-musical sound effect is in pop music? I’m sure it must either be rainfall or revving motorbikes, but any other suggestions are welcome. The storms here are soon replaced by an acoustic guitar, and not for the first time I’m getting an unexpected Beatles flashback from a B*Witched number one. This time it’s ‘In My Life’ buried within the opening chords…

In fact this whole song is a game of spot-the-influences. The verses remind me of other late-90s indie-pop acts like Tin Tin Out and Catatonia, and most of all Natalie Imbruglia’s ‘Torn’. Then the new-age, Enya touches from ‘To You I Belong’ return for the chorus… The rain goes on, On and on again… Meanwhile the bad-weather-as-metaphor-for-heartbreak is a trope as old as pop music, from ‘Raining in My Heart’ to ‘Rhythm of the Rain’.

Since the ridiculous ‘C’est la Vie’, B*Witched have matured with each successive single, to the point that I’ve been quite impressed with how much I’ve enjoyed it when they’ve popped up in recent weeks. I’d still rank ‘Rollercoaster’ as my favourite, but this has some nice harmonies in the choruses and the middle-eight.

‘Blame It on the Weatherman’ was the group’s fourth consecutive #1 single, matching the Spice Girls’ achievement from a couple of years earlier. (In fact they bettered that record by having all four singles enter at the top; ‘Wannabe’ having climbed to its peak.) It would be their last though, as none of the singles from their second album came close. It’s interesting, actually, how quickly the B*Witched bubble burst. If we fast-forward exactly a year, in March 2000 we’d find ‘Jump Down’ struggling to a #16 peak.

They split in 2002, after being dropped by Sony despite having a third album in the works. More recently they have reformed and toured with other ‘90s pop acts (including recent chart-toppers 911), and have even tentatively released some new material, that hasn’t come close to troubling the charts. All a long way from the late-nineties, when B*Witched at the height of their powers were scoring four #1s across barely nine months. All together now: what were they like?

PS. I’m adding this in a couple of days after publishing, but I’ve just realised that when this record knocked Boyzone from the top it was probably the first and only time that two siblings have replaced one another at number one (Boyzone’s Shane Lynch and B*Witched’s Edele and Keavy Lynch). Let me know of any others!

807. ‘To You I Belong’, by B*Witched

A blast of Celtic pipes meets our ears, heralding the arrival of our next number one. Because heaven forbid we forget just for one second that B*Witched. Are. Irish!

To You I Belong, by B*Witched (their 3rd of four #1s)

1 week, from 13th – 20th December 1998

Girl group rules dictate that the 3rd single must be a ballad, especially if said single is being released at Christmas. So in some ways, ‘To You I Belong’ is a fairly predictable, low-tempo, pop smoocher (with a strangely old-fashioned sounding title, grammatically speaking). In other ways, though, it’s actually quite interesting.

For such a generic girl group ballad, there are plenty of touches that I wasn’t expecting. The tin whistles and strings give it a New Age feel, with hints of Enya even, and the girls’ floaty, trembly voices are quite soothing. Turns out that B*Witched could properly sing, something that was lost amongst all the bubble-gum silliness of their first two singles!

It’s unexpectedly classy, and even if I don’t automatically love all the Celtic flourishes at least it’s something a little different from what the other girl groups of the time were offering. I would say, though, that it could have done with a more stripped-back production – maybe just the girls’ voices and a couple of guitars – as all the layers of computer generated synths and tinkly bits make it sound cluttered.

Three #1s from their first three singles catapulted B*Witched into exalted company: Gerry & The Pacemakers, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Jive Bunny and The Spice Girls. And they’ll go one better than the first three of those acts, by making it four out of four. Speaking of The Spice Girls, B*Witched sensibly released ‘To You I Belong’ a week before the festive number one race, rather than going up against the Queens of Christmas. However, with this giving the Irish girls their third chart-topper of 1998, compared to the Spice Girls’ one (so far), it could be argued that at this point B*Witched were the bigger group…

Finally from a chart-geek angle, this record kicks off a run of ten one-week #1s in a row, through until late February 1999, as the chart-topping turnover continues to ramp up. (The previous longest run of one-weekers was five, in early 1997.)

803. ‘Rollercoaster’, by B*Witched

I was very down on B*Witched’s debut single, ‘C’est la Vie’. So down that I named it as a Very Worst Number One. At the same time, I’ve long been touting their second chart-topper as a lost classic…

Rollercoaster, by B*Witched (their 2nd of four #1s)

2 weeks, from 27th September – 11th October 1998

Which was risky, considering I hadn’t listened to ‘Rollercoaster’ in two decades or more. What if I actually hate it? Well here we are, and I am happy to announce that this is a decent little pop record. Yes, another spoken word intro had me fearing the worst, but this one actually makes sense, with the girls on their way up a rollercoaster (I can’t believe I’m doing this…!) And thankfully there’s not an Irishism in earshot!

The verses are okay, lilting guitars and organs, and lines about sailing the seven seas. The bridge is great though: very, um, Beatlesy. Seriously, it’s ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’. And then the chorus has hints of T. Rex (Come on, Get it on, Riding in a rollercoaster of love…) Beatles! T Rex! No ‘begorrahs’! What’s not to love? This is light years better than ‘C’est la Vie’.

Okay, there is another Irish fiddle interlude, presumably contractually obliged in case listeners even briefly forget where the band come from. But this one is bearable, enjoyable even. The complete opposite of the demented jig from ‘C’est la Vie’. And there is also still a lot of double-denim in the video, but fashion faux-pas can be forgiven when the songs are good.

Is ‘Rollercoaster’ a lost classic, though…? I guess, probably not. I perhaps oversold it slightly. It’s not the greatest pop song ever. Or of the decade. Or even of the year. But it has an understated charm that its predecessor completely lacked, and a couple of really catchy hooks.

I suppose when your debut is so gimmicky, then you have to come back with something strong as a second single. More of the same; but not quite the same. Aqua managed it with ‘Doctor Jones’, and B*Witched managed it here. They wouldn’t be one-hit wonders. There are even signs that their team were trying to add a bit of edge to them, with lines like You’ll soon be high… Though I’m not sure anyone was convinced by the We’re not nice, We’re cool as ice line… It may be an enjoyable pop song, but B*Witched were still teenyboppers through and through.

800. ‘Bootie Call’, by All Saints

Suddenly it’s eight hundred not out. We continue to cut a swathe through the chart decades, almost tipping over into a new century. But there’s still plenty of life left in the 1990s, as All Saints return to form…

Bootie Call, by All Saints (their 3rd of five #1s)

1 week, from 6th – 13th September 1998

I tried to make the best of their double-bill cover record, featuring interesting takes on ‘Under the Bridge’ and ‘Lady Marmalade‘. And while it wasn’t the horror show some might have claimed, it still wasn’t that good. So here’s their third number one of the year, making them 1998’s joint most successful girl group (the other one isn’t the Spice Girls). And it’s a fun record.

It’s also a strange record, despite the subject matter being very All Saints. Casual sex is the order of the day, and it’s worth stopping to note that while this song isn’t at all explicit, it’s only really been since the mid-nineties that chart-toppers have started to be this up-front about sex. Never stop giving good love, ‘Cause that’s what I call you for… the girls purr… You can bring it on with the rough stuff, I don’t want to be tamed… All Saints are, of course, in charge of the whole situation, reminding their guys: It’s just a bootie call… (Why, incidentally, not ‘booty’? Is ‘bootie’ a British spelling I don’t know about?)

The strangeness comes from the production, and the sound effects that hang all over this song like weird Christmas decorations. There’s what sounds like someone snoring, a man going ‘uh’ over, over and over (once you’ve noticed him in the mix he takes over completely), plus lots of vaguely sexual breathing and spluttering. The second verse is very rough around the edges, with the girls taking turns over their lines as if ad-libbing around a looped piano riff. It could be cool; but it could also sound half-arsed. It’s certainly not polished or softened, like so many of the recent tween pop #1s, so that’s something to be thankful for. The girls don’t forget that there might be children listening though, adding a line I assume to be about safe sex: Jimmy’s got to ride in your pocket, or lock him in your wallet…

‘Bootie Call’ isn’t as good as ‘Never Ever’, or either of the band’s two remaining chart-toppers. It’s a little gimmicky, and gets a little repetitive. But even as their fourth best number one, it’s pretty enjoyable. Plus it cements their place as the biggest British girl group of the day, as the Spice Girls continue to disintegrate.

Next up we have a much delayed recap, but before that we should cast our eyes back towards each of the ‘hundredth’ number ones. What’s interesting is that almost all of them represent a facet of British chart-topping tastes. All Saints are a good way to mark the girl-powered sass-pop of the late nineties, as were Chaka Demus & Pliers (700) a good way to mark the mid-nineties reggae revival. What’s interesting is that there are barely four and half years between 800 and 700, as the turnover of number ones increases, but more than six between 700 and 600, in which T’Pau represented for all the eighties power-ballads.

500 was Nicole’s ‘A Little Peace’ (Eurovision), while 400 was ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’ (showtunes). Tony Orlando and Dawn’s ‘Knock Three Times’ represents nothing more than the British public’s ongoing love of middling cheese. 200 was ‘Help’ by the biggest band of all time, while 100 was Anthony Newley’s ‘Do You Mind’, highlighting the lull that came between rock ‘n’ roll and Merseybeat. And of course, Al Martino kicked the whole shebang off in 1952, repping for all the pre-rock crooners. It’s been a lot of fun so far – thanks to everyone who has come along for the ride – and rest assured I have no intention of stopping until we make it all the way to the present day.

797. ‘Viva Forever’, by The Spice Girls

The Spice Girls return, after missing #1 for the first time behind Run-D.M.C, with their first Geri-less single…

Viva Forever, by The Spice Girls (their 7th of nine #1s)

2 weeks, from 26th July – 9th August 1998

I can still remember where I was when I heard Geri had left the group (some generations had JFK…) I was in a minibus, on my way home from a Scout camp, when news broke on the radio. But of course, ‘Viva Forever’ had been recorded months before, so Halliwell still features both in the song and in the video – as much as any of the girls ‘feature’ in the video as animated fairies – and in fact was credited with writing most of the lyrics.

There are some lovely strings ‘n’ harmonies in the intro, then a cool Spanish guitar to bring some drama. The verses have a sense of melancholy, and the lyrics – originally about a summer romance – have a real yearning to them. The bridge even has some Spanish, for that touch of class. The verses too have a timeless quality to them, even if the chord progressions are a little predictable.

Of course, by the time Geri had left, the lyrics had ceased to be about a summer fling and seemed to fit perfectly as her ‘goodbye’ to the band. And this is a very solid pop record. In fact, it’s almost adult-oriented soft rock. And I’d put it down as the group’s best ballad, miles ahead of ‘Mama’, and pretty far ahead of ‘2 Become 1’. The fact that they had gems like this up their sleeve, two years into their career, sets the Spice Girls apart from most other pop fodder of the time.

The only thing that slightly lets this record down is the vocals. And we know, of course, seven chart-toppers in, that people didn’t buy Spice Girls’ records for the quality of their voices. But it’s on songs like this, where they can’t rely on boisterous, girl-power energy, that you can hear how reedy a couple of them were. Luckily, Mel C is on hand to do most of the heavy lifting as the song reaches its climax.

I can’t remember ever seeing the full music video for ‘Viva Forever’ before, but it’s a trip. Set in the 1970s, two boys follow an animatronic bouncing chicken into a forest where they meet the Spiceys as slightly demented looking fairies. One of the boys disappears into a Rubik’s cube with the girls, leaving his friend lost and confused… It apparently took longer to film than the entirety of ‘Spiceworld – The Movie’, and adds a ‘loss of innocence’ interpretation to the song’s lyrics.

So, Geri had left, citing exhaustion and depression. The drama was that she didn’t tell the other girls to their faces, causing a rift for many years… It wasn’t the only crack to start showing, though. Before the Girls return for their penultimate number one, their solo careers will have started, with predictably chart-topping results.

792. ‘C’est la Vie’, by B*Witched

Ah Jaysus! If it isn’t one of the nineties most beloved pop ditties, so that it is…

C’est la Vie, by B*Witched (their 1st of four #1s)

2 weeks, from 31st May – 14th June 1998

I don’t feel so bad putting on the ol’ stereotypical Irishisms, because this silly record is drenched in such nonsense. It may be one of the decade’s best-loved pop songs, but it got on my tits aged twelve and I’m glad to report that it still gets on them twenty-six years later.

Is it the nursery rhyme verses? Is it the perky production? Is it the Irishisms? (Get a loife… What are ye like…?) Or is it all of the above, plus the group’s horrific double-denim outfits in the video? Yep, it’s the whole shebang. This is bubble-gum so sweet and cloying that you want to spit it out after just five seconds.

And if you sit down to really listen to the lyrics, a fool’s errand with a song like this, then your distaste only deepens. Say you will, Say you won’t, Say you’ll do what I don’t, Say you’re true, Say to me, C’est la vie… They are words, words put together, put together because they form catchy rhymes, in English and in French; but they’re gibberish. Of course this isn’t the first pop song to make zero sense, so perhaps I’m being harsh. But even the innuendo – and I’m normally a big fan of innuendo – leaves me rolling my eyes. Do you ever get lonely playing with your toy…? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours… Oh lord, please don’t.

The closest this comes to passable pop is in the bridge, the huff and puff bit (this record is very heavy on the nursery rhymes). And that bit is undeniably catchy. But just as you begin to put together a defence for ‘C’est la Vie’, in comes the demented faux-Riverdance middle-eight and your case crumbles. Nope, nope, nope. Cover it in lead and chuck in the Liffey.

B*Witched were from Dublin, and had formed in 1996. Two of the four were twins, Edele and Keavy Lynch (sisters of Boyzone’s Shane Lynch), while the other two were their friends from dance and kickboxing classes. At least they didn’t go down the bland ballad route of their brother’s group (I should add a ‘yet’, as we have three more B*Witched #1s to get through). You can see what they were going for with the slightly watered-down version of fun and feisty girl power, but I wasn’t the right age for it in 1998 and I’m certainly not the right age for it now. I am, however – and without giving too much away – fully prepared to defend their next chart-topper as a lost classic.

We’ve had plenty of pop number ones in the past few years. But everything about ‘C’est la Vie’, from the production to the video, ups the cheese, the bubble-gum, the trashiness… call it what you will. And this record sets the tone for the next couple of years, in which the singles chart will be dominated by primary coloured, tween pop. And we can perhaps explore why that was as we get closer towards the end of the century…

As a final aside, and with the eyes of the world currently on Paris, I make this the 3rd number one single with a French title, after ‘Que Sera Sera’ and ‘Je T’Aime… Moi Non Plus’. Let me know if I’ve missed one.

780. ‘Never Ever’, by All Saints

Into 1998, then. The penultimate year of the century, the 46th year of the UK singles charts, and one with a thus-far record thirty number ones. And to start off, there are a few questions that I need to know…

Never Ever, by All Saints (their 1st of five #1s)

1 week, from 11th – 18th January 1998

To be honest, an opening line that clunky could kill lesser songs off before they’ve started. A few answers that I need to know, surely, scans just as well. Anyway, ‘Never Ever’ quickly recovers from that shaky start, by bringing us one of the great spoken word sections. Anyone of my vintage can probably still recite it word for word…You can tell me to my face, Or even on the phone… as well as adding all the backing harmonies.

It takes the sassy soul vibe of 1997’s final chart-topper, the Spice Girls’ ‘Too Much’, and ups both the sass and the soul. All Saints have very good voices, and great harmonies, to the point where you’re tricked into misremembering this as an a cappella track. But their voices are also flawed, like the Spice Girls’, so that you can hear their accents and dropped consonants.

‘Never Ever’ isn’t a cappella, of course, and the production is period-perfect late-90s R&B squelch (this is what we must refer to it as from now on, and we’ll be hearing it a lot as the century winds down). It’s also let down slightly by further clunky lyrics (flexin’ vocabularythe alphabet runs right from A to Z) and simplistic rhymes: Free from pain/ Goin’ insaneSo low/ Black holeSo sad/ Feelin’ really bad… But hey, at least the words stick with you. And by the end, as the harmonies build and the organs start to swirl, you forgive it. The outro is just as good as the famous intro, slipping into a hip-hop beat as the girls’ voices are filtered and distorted.

Having a pop single run over five minutes (six and a half in its album version) is always a risk, spreading a few decent lines and a hook too thin. But ‘Never Ever’ lasts the distance, thanks to the strength of the voices and the melodies, and the way that they continue to build. And talking of being long-running, the song had a particularly slow journey to the top of the charts by 1998’s standards. It first charted in November, then hung around the Top 10 for seven weeks before finally reaching the top in the post-Christmas lull. It set a record for the highest ever sales before making #1 (770,000), and it’s current total stands at 1.5 million. It is the 3rd biggest-selling girl group single of all time in the UK. (You can guess the top two in the comments below…)

It feels simplistic to call All Saints the female East 17 to the Spice Girls’ Take That, but I’m going to do it anyway. The Spice Girls were chaotic and silly, whereas All Saints were all glowering stares, pierced tongues and nose-studs, shacking up with Gallaghers. They were the girls a couple of years above you in the corridor at school, definitely not to be approached under any circumstances. ‘Never Ever’ was only their second single, but it established them as the ‘other’ girl group of the day. In 1998, they’ll even have one more #1 than the Spice Girls. In fact, they’ll have five chart-toppers in just under three years, and all but one of them will be great.

If you’ve been paying attention, you might be expecting a recap in my next post. However I’ve decided that as the turnover of #1s is ever-increasing, and to stop my all-time awards getting too skewed towards the late-‘90s/early-‘00s, I’m going to do recaps after every fiftieth chart-topper until things slow down a bit, sometime around 2003.

779. ‘Too Much’, by The Spice Girls

Happily preventing the Teletubbies from claiming a Christmas number one, the Spice Girls score their second of three festive chart-toppers in a row. And of the three, this is the best in my book…

Too Much, by The Spice Girls (their 6th of nine #1s)

2 weeks, from 21st December 1997 – 4th January 1998

It’s a ballad, of course (a girl group festive release will always be a ballad, there may be actual laws about this) but it’s not as straightforwardly sweet as ‘2 Become 1’, or as sentimental as the one to come next year. This is a sassy, soulful, fairly sophisticated, ballad that, with a little more oomph, could pass as a Bond theme.

It unfurls – that’s the perfect word – seductively, with plenty of horns and strings. Plus it has a couple of the Spice Girls’ best lines. As with all their good songs, they are the ones in charge, not the men. Unwrap yourself… Geri purrs… From around my finger… While in the middle-eight, Mel C unleashes the iconic: What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, I want a man, Not a boy who thinks he can…!

When you add in her harmonies in the second chorus, Mel C here cements herself not only as the star of this single but as the official ‘Spice who could sing’. I think this might be one of the group’s less well-remembered number ones, and it certainly passed me by at the time – twelve-year-old me having given up on them after the manic ‘Spice Up Your Life’. But listening to it now, I might be tempted to place it as their 2nd best chart-topper, after ‘Say You’ll Be There’ (clearly the singles where Mel C was allowed to unleash are the best).

‘Too Much’ was the girls’ 6th #1 in a row, maintaining their 100% record – a record that stands to this day (though it has since been matched by Westlife). Their next release, ‘Stop’, would be their first and only single not to make the top. As I mentioned in my last post on the Spice Girls, the returns from their second album were clearly shortening, although they remained a global phenomenon. This is also their final number one as a five-piece, as by the time of their seventh chart-topper, Geri will have famously called it a day.

In my last post I mentioned that late-1997 saw extremely high singles sales. It’s hard to say, as records vary, but this may have been the ultimate peak for physical singles in the UK. In the run up to Christmas ’97 there was a week in which the entire Top 5 all sold over 100,000 copies, and in the all-time highest-sellers table four songs from the latter half of the year remain in the Top 50 (‘I’ll Be Missing You’, ‘Barbie Girl’, ‘Perfect Day’ and the record-holding ‘Candle in the Wind 1997’). Why this is I’m not qualified to say… Cut-pricing, cultural relevance, the ubiquity of CD players are all decent reasons. The quality of music, in my opinion, is not. The autumn of 1997 has seen a bit of a drop-off compared to the first half of the year. Whatever the reason, we head into 1998 with sales still high, and the turnover at the top ever-increasing…