770. ‘I’ll Be Missing You’, by Puff Daddy & Faith Evans ft. 112

And so we meet the year’s third now-problematic chart-topper. I have to admit that I’m not quite up on what Sean Combs has/hasn’t been accused of*, while I think a lawyer would advise me to mention that he’s not been found guilty of anything. It seems, though, he’s quickly heading the way of R. Kelly and Michael Jackson.

I’ll Be Missing You, by Puff Daddy (his 1st of three #1s) & Faith Evans ft. 112

3 weeks, from 22nd June – 13th July 1997 / 3 weeks from 20th July – 10th August 1997 (6 weeks total)

Back in 1997, Combs was head of his own label, Bad Boy Records. He’d signed the rapper Notorious B.I.G., and had produced for acts like Usher, TLC, Mariah Carey, even Aretha Franklin. That March, B.I.G. had been shot dead just as Combs had been preparing his own debut album. ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ is a hastily-recorded tribute to his dead pal, featuring fellow Bad Boy artists 112, and Faith Evan’s (Biggie’s widow).

So, on the one hand, it feels churlish to criticise a tribute to a recently deceased man. On the other… there’s just so much to criticise. Reviews at the time called it ‘maudlin’, and ‘turgid’, and it’s hard to disagree. The lyrics – which I once knew word-for-word – are extremely clunky. It’s kinda hard with you not around, Know you’re in heaven smiling down… Watchin’ us while we pray for you, Every day we pray for you…

It’s main hook is that it’s based around ‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police, as well as the hymn ‘I’ll Fly Away’. In earlier posts I bemoaned not knowing the difference between a sample and an interpolation, so imagine my joy to discover that ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ features both! So blatant is it that Sting and Co., who hadn’t been asked permission, sued for 100% of the royalties (and won).

The clear highlight of this saccharine number is Evans, whose voice soars above the sentimentalism, especially in her middle-eight: Somebody tell me why… Other than that, it is catchy, and it is heartfelt. But I can’t help but see something cynical in the way it goes for the heartstrings so remorselessly. It reminds me of Wiz Khalifa’s ‘See You Again’, another rap/pop crossover about a dead man, which I think is one of the sickliest pieces of music ever recorded (sorry, spoilers, but it’s a while before we’ll come to it…)

Thing is, though, I loved this song as an eleven year old. Like I said, I knew all the words. If I’d been eleven when ‘See You Again’ came out, I’d probably have felt the same about it. But that’s the song’s problem: it lacks nuance, depth, and relies too much on simplistic lyrics about turning back the hands of time, and living life after death. If this record helps a kid process their emotions following a loved one’s death, then great. But as an adult I would need something a little more substantial.

Though maybe I’m in the minority on this, as ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ stayed at number one for six weeks in total (an impressive feat, as chart turnover was ever increasing) and would have been 1997’s biggest-seller, if it weren’t for the small matter of the most succesful record ever released coming along a few weeks later: another tribute to a dead person. It remains the 23rd highest-selling record in the UK, and the country’s biggest-ever hip-hop song. Sean Combs, AKA Puff Daddy, AKA P. Diddy, AKA Diddy (I believe he’s the only artist to have topped the charts under three different stage names) will return to this countdown eventually, though with nothing resembling the success of his first big hit.

*Long before the current accusations against him, there was a rumour that Diddy had put the hit out on the Notorious B.I.G. himself.

759. ‘Ain’t Nobody’, by LL Cool J

Five weeks into 1997, and we’ve had five different number ones (if you count ‘2 Become 1’, leftover from the year before). Dance, indie, rock, and now…

Ain’t Nobody, by LL Cool J (his 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 2nd – 9th February 1997

One of hip-hops OGs. Ladies Love Cool James, or just LL Cool J to his friends. I’m the best when it comes to making love all night… LL announces in this record’s opening lines… Go deep till the full moon turns to sunlight… before commencing on a four-minute rap Kama Sutra, full of lines about bodies intertwining, animal attraction, all that jazz.

It’s based around ‘80s classic ‘Ain’t Nobody’, and I did wonder if it was a full-blown sample, meaning that Chaka Khan could grab a second #1 by association. But no, it’s an interpolation (one day I’ll have to work out the difference). The chorus is sung by an uncredited lady, who doesn’t have Chaka’s pipes, but LL does a neat little reference to ‘I Feel for You’, as he freestyles towards the end.

I’ve talked for a long time about hip-hop gradually coming of age, especially in recent years with hits from Coolio and the Fugees. I’d add this one to the pile. The rapping is tighter, faster, and obsessed with sex. Still no swearing (the Outhere Brothers remain an outlier), though we’re slowly getting saucier: see the lines above, as well as treats like I’m exploring your body and your erogenous zones, Like a black tiger caged up till you come home… And I’m sure he didn’t mean it, but the refrain of You can take it girl, Stop runnin’, Uh… sure does sound a bit dubious to today’s ears.

Other than that, the sample (sorry, interpolation!) works well. I don’t love the song as a whole, and it’s not a patch on the original, but wouldn’t leave the dancefloor if it came on. Plus it sounds like a modern pop song, once again, furthering my argument that late ’96 / early ’97 marked one of those shifts that pop music goes through every decade or so.

This record, standard 90s hip-hop that it is, came from the unlikely source of the soundtrack to ‘Beavis and Butt-head Do America’, which I haven’t seen, and cannot imagine how it fits into the plot. The ‘B’-side was called ‘Come to Butt-head’, which seems much more appropriate.

Despite rap still being a relatively new chart-topping genre, LL Cool J had been around since the early ‘80s, which is seriously early in hip-hop terms. ‘I Need Love’, his slow-jam from 1987, was one of the first fully-rapped songs to be a chart hit in the UK, reaching #8 (meaning LL had a UK Top 10 several years before he managed one on the Billboard 100). ‘Ain’t Nobody’ was his third, and it set him up for a decade’s worth of regular hit making. And before I go, I’ll give a shout out to one of his other 1997 hits, which should have been the #1, ‘the frenetically funky ‘Phenomenon’.

745. ‘Ready or Not’, by The Fugees

I first proposed the existence of ‘shadow #1s’ way back at the start of this blog when covering Frankie Laine’s ‘Hey Joe’, which had made top spot shortly after his mega-hit ‘I Believe’ (the song that still holds the record for weeks at number one). ‘Hey Joe’ was a zany, whip-crackin’ country ditty, a world away from the spiritual ‘I Believe’, and I suggested that the reflected glow of the earlier hit had paved the way for the follow-up.

Ready or Not, by The Fugees (their 2nd and final #1)

2 weeks, from 15th – 29th September 1996

It’s a phenomenon we’ve seen repeated a few times. ‘Baby Jump’ by Mungo Jerry springs to mind as one of the most obvious. ‘Shadow #1s’ don’t even have to follow a chart-topper, as both Alvin Stardust and a-Ha achieved their only number ones after their much more famous number twos… All of which is my long-winded way of introducing ‘Ready or Not’, one of the ultimate shadow #1s…

I tried to claim that The Fugees earlier cover of ‘Killing Me Softly’ was hip-hop’s big arrival as a chart force. But actually, this is the moment. This is no funky cover of a seventies classic; this is uncompromising rap. (Though it is built around a very distinctive, very haunting sample from Enya, so I suppose it does have some mum-friendly credentials.) Like Peter Andre’s ‘Flava’, which was a particularly modern sounding pop song, this is modern rap – East Coast rap, apparently, though I’m not qualified to clarify what that actually means – and could have been a credible chart-topper anytime between 1996 and now.

It still makes use of Lauryn Hill’s amazing voice, in the chorus, but while she sang angelically on ‘Killing Me Softly’, her voice now drips with deadpan attitude. Ready or not, Here I come, You can’t hide… Around this, each of the three MCs take turns telling us how the Fugees are poised for world domination. I like Hill’s alliterative voodoo line, as well as: While you’re imitating Al Capone, I’ll be Nina Simone, And defecating on your microphone… But perhaps the most important verse is Pras Michel’s, which focuses on the group’s immigrant background: I refugee from Guantanamo Bay, Dance around the border like Cassius Clay… (the band name is, after all, short for ‘Refugees’).

Although uncompromising, this isn’t gangsta rap. Hill’s verse even calls out stereotypical rappers: Frontin’ n*ggas give me heebeejeebees… Enya threatened to sue the trio for sampling ‘Boadicea’ before she realised that the lyrics went deeper than just guns and pimping. (Although, while there’s no swearing, there is the above-mentioned debut appearance of the n-word in a UK #1.) Meanwhile, though it isn’t strictly a sample, the chorus is heavily based around the Delfonic’s ‘Ready or Not Here I Come (Can’t Hide from Love)’, a minor hit in 1969.

In calling this a ‘shadow #1’, I don’t mean to suggest that this doesn’t have musical merit. The verses are impressive both lyrically and in the way they are delivered, while the use of ‘Boadicea’ is one of the all-time great samples (so effective that this won’t be its only appearance in a number one single…) There was also the small matter of a multi-million dollar video featuring submarines, sharks and helicopters to promote it. But no, all that aside, this is an impressive and important song, and I say that as someone with a fairly low tolerance for rap.

The Fugees weren’t together for long after their chart-topping summer of ‘96, with the members moving on to solo projects by the following year. All three will have their own hits, but only Wyclef Jean will feature on another #1. Lauryn Hill has had the most interesting post-Fugees career, involving both charity work and other philanthropic endeavours, jail time for tax fraud, as well as the small matter of eight Grammy awards and the title of ‘Greatest Female Rapper’. The group have reunited twice over the years.

729. ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’, by Coolio ft. LV

Although 1995 is turning out to be a fairly – let’s be blunt – crap year for number one singles, it’s also turning out to be a year of firsts at the top of the charts.

Gangsta’s Paradise, by Coolio ft. LV (their 1st and only #1s)

2 weeks, from 22nd October – 5th November 1995

We’ve had our first Britpop #1s, as well as our first ‘Explicit Warning’ chart-toppers. You could also argue that Robson & Jerome, with Simon Cowell as mastermind, heralded the start of the ‘TV personality as pop star’ age, which will dominate the next twenty years of British pop music. And as we draw towards the year’s end, here comes our first proper rap #1.

We’ve had plenty of hip-hop at #1 before this: Vanilla Ice, Partners in Kryme, Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince… Throw in the Simpsons, and John Barnes, and it’s clear that rap has struggled to be seen as much more than a novelty. Until now, for this is uncompromising hip-hop: undiluted, comfortable in its own skin, not softening its edges in looking for widespread appeal.

Coolio weaves a tale of life on the streets, a life of drugs and violence that often leads to death: You better watch how you talkin’, And where you walkin’, Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk… In it, the singer both recognises his situation: Why are we, So blind to see, That the ones we hurt, Are you and me…? and sees no way out: They say I gotta learn, But nobody’s here to teach me, If they can’t understand it, How can they reach me?

Heavy stuff, but it’s lifted to classic status by one of the all-time great samples. Stevie Wonder’s ‘Pastime Paradise’ provides a compelling, propulsive melody around which Coolio tells the story. LV, who sings the chorus, changes ‘Pastime’ to ‘Gangsta’, while a gospel choir provides the finishing touch.

The record’s authenticity must have struck a chord, as it became the UK’s highest-selling hip-hop record in fairly short order (today it sits well inside the Top 50 highest-selling singles in British chart history). It featured on the soundtrack to the Michelle Pfeiffer film ‘Dangerous Minds’ – Pfeiffer also appears in the video – which may have helped in its success. But probably not to the extent that the song wouldn’t have been a hit without it.

I’ve called this the first ‘proper’, ‘modern’ rap #1, but I’ve been reluctant to call it the first ‘gangsta’ rap number one. Mainly because the word is literally there, in the song’s title, and it feels slightly lazy. Plus, while the song’s themes may be pretty gangsta, the lyrics are all quite PG. They weren’t originally, however – Coolio had written a much more explicit version, but Stevie Wonder refused to sanction the sample until he cleaned it up.

Swears or no swears, this is a brilliant song, one of the best that 1995, if not the entire decade, has to offer. I also realised, while writing this post, how many of the lyrics I could remember. I certainly wasn’t rapping along at the time, so they must have entered my brain through cultural osmosis over the years – always a sign of a song’s classic status. Coolio went on to have three more Top 10 hits, including ‘C U When U Get There’, which has an equally famous ‘sample’. And of course, just as importantly for people of my vintage, he recorded the ‘Keenan & Kel’ theme song. He died following an overdose two years ago, aged just fifty-nine.

723. ‘Boom Boom Boom’, by The Outhere Brothers

In my last post, I asked who were the worse duo: the Outhere Brothers, or Robson & Jerome? Well here they stand, in direct comparison…

Boom Boom Boom, by The Outhere Brothers (their 2nd and final #1)

4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th July 1995

It’s more obnoxious rap-cum-dance from the Outheres, though I have to admit that this is significantly better than ‘Don’t Stop (Wiggle Wiggle)’. It has a less irritating beat, and something resembling a verse-chorus structure. It hangs together like an actual song, rather than a bunch of samples around which filthy lyrics are shouted.

That’s not to say the lyrics aren’t dirty here; they just don’t reach the same levels of obnoxious vulgarity as their earlier #1. There’s an excellent use of the term ‘nani’, (as in put your nani on my tongue…), as well as various mentions of the brothers’ pet obsession: the booty. And I will confess I smiled at the line: Slip my Peter, Into your folder… I’m no prude, and if rudeness can be both silly and inventive, then I’m all for it.

The vast majority of the song though, is a sledgehammer Eurodance beat, and the call-and-response hook of Boom, boom, boom, Now let me hear you say Way-Oh! That’s what I remember from the school playgrounds of the time, and presumably the reason why this was such a hit. There’s nary a millennial alive who can’t complete the second half of the title line, though back in 1995 innocent little me had no idea that there was an explicit original.

Like ‘Don’t Stop’, it looks like ‘Boom Boom Boom’ had a wide variety of mixes and edits: some radio-friendly, some not. I don’t know if these were a factor in making this record a hit, or whether the British public were just mad for the Outhere Brothers in the summer of ’95. It still does feel very incongruous that slap bang in the middle of the year of Britpop, we had a month of this after seven weeks of Robson & Jerome’s golden-oldies.

This, thankfully, is the last we’ll hear from The Outhere Brothers. They would manage a couple of further Top 10 hits, before fading away. I call this the ‘significantly better’ of their two chart-toppers, but that still doesn’t mean it’s particularly good. The Brothers’ charms remain difficult to place. At least they didn’t outstay their welcome – a quick-fire double and now we can forget they ever existed. Unlike the year’s other duo…

695. ‘Boom! Shake the Room’, by Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince

Yo back up now and give a brother room, The fuse is lit and I’m about to go boom…! The first thing that becomes immediately apparent when I press play on our next number one is that I know almost all the words. When and how this happened I don’t know, but here we are…

Boom! Shake the Room, by Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince (their 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 19th September – 3rd October 1993

It’s the most rap-heavy #1 so far. No sung chorus, a bit of chanting, just Big Will spitting rhymes. Or should that be ‘The Fresh Prince’. It’s easy to assume that this was a tie-in with his role in the hit sitcom, but in reality the sitcom was a tie-in for a rap career which had been going since the mid-eighties.

And while it may be the purest hip-hop chart topper thus far, I’ll make the same comment that I’ve made about almost all rap songs we’ve featured: it’s hard now not to see this as a novelty. The call and response, the lines about ‘scoring like Jordan’, the stuttering verse… All very cute, all very tame. A kids party DJ could throw this on and fear no repercussions. The closest we get to something gangsta is when Will promises to find a girl, flip her around and then work that booty

But, it’s a lot of fun. Like I said, I know nearly all the words. I grew up with rap a lot more explicit than this (with lots of words that a person of my complexion can’t go around saying…) I’m reminded of the classic Eminem line: Will Smith doesn’t have to cuss to sell records, Well I do, So fuck him, And fuck you too… That’s funny, but it also shows where Will Smith stood in the early 2000s: commercially very successful, but an outlier in the eyes of other rappers. Back in 1993, we’re on the verge of rap becoming a dominant sound in the charts, and I really don’t know if ‘Boom! Shake the Room’ was seen as cool, or already a relic of an earlier time.

Speaking of Eminem, we’re only seven years away from him scoring a huge #1 single about having his girlfriend gagged and bound in the boot of his car. That’s a huge shift, considering that the rap songs to have made #1 have been this, one about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Vanilla Ice. While the worst swearword that’s been uttered in a number one single has been, I think, ‘bullshit’. It’ll be interesting to watch how quickly tastes and standards change in the remaining years of the 1990s.

And while you could say that Will Smith became a figure of fun, spare a thought for the guy behind the decks on this record. Initially, Jazzy Jeff was the star of the duo, with first billing here and on their early hits, with wonderful titles like ‘Parents Just Don’t Understand’ and the ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ sampling ‘Girls Ain’t Nothing But Trouble’. At the very start of their relationship, Smith was Jazzy Jeff’s stand-in hype-man. Come the TV series, though, Jeff had become a punchline, spending most of his time getting launched out the door by Uncle Phil. ‘Boom! Shake the Room’ was the duo’s biggest hit, in the UK at least, but it was one of their last. Will Smith went solo in 1997 (more on that soon) with Jeff producing some his songs. He’s remained very active though, performing with Smith from time to time, while one of his biggest legacies is popularising the ‘transformer scratch’, a version of which opens this record.

665. ‘I Wanna Sex You Up’, by Color Me Badd

I arrive at this next chart-topper, and a question immediately springs to mind: what’s worse – the name of the song, or the name of the group?

I Wanna Sex You Up, by Color Me Badd (their 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, from 2nd – 23rd June 1991

I mean, both could win the pop music equivalent of the Razzies. But for me it’s the song title that is a smidge more excruciating. And that’s because it lends its name to four minutes of cringe-inducing boyband R&B. Come inside take off your coat, I’ll make you feel at home… squeaks a Poundshop Prince. The lyrics start of icky – all lighting candles and pouring wine – and only get ickier…

For example: Disconnect the phone so nobody knows… Personally, I don’t see disconnecting the phone as a sexy move; more a creepy, ‘there’s no escape’ kind of move. And then there’s the piece de resistance: making love until we drown… dig… Drown in what, dare I ask? (Vomit, probably, given the way these lyrics are making me feel.)

There’s a spoken-word section, of course, though it’s more of a whispered-word section: Just lay back, Enjoy the ride… The only redeeming moments in the song are the two hooks – the ooh-ooh-eeh-ooh and the tick tock ya don’t stop – that run on a loop. In fact, if you can block out the lyrics, the song itself sounds very modern. If I hadn’t known, then I’d have placed it in the mid-to-late nineties, rather than 1991. The song featured on the soundtrack (another soundtrack #1!) to ‘New Jack City’, an action-crime movie featuring the likes of Chris Rock, Wesley Snipes and Ice-T.

Was this controversial at the time? Few #1s have been this upfront about sex, save for Serge and Jane, and Frankie saying ‘Relax’. (Off the top of my head, I believe this might be the first chart-topper to feature the word ‘sex’ in its title.) Or did people just write it off as simply too ridiculous to be a threat to young and impressionable minds? The video is nowhere near as saucy as it might have been, mainly featuring the four Badds sauntering along railway tracks, like NKOTB’s moody older brothers. And, of course, it seems very PG-13 compared to some of the songs that have made number one between then and now, from ‘Freak Me’ to Megan and Cardi B’s wet-ass you-know-whats…

Color Me Badd were four high school friends from Oklahoma, who were helped on their way to brief stardom by Robert Bell of Kool & The Gang, who found them a manager, and Bon Jovi, who let the boys open for them at a concert in New York. They were a racially diverse group, too: one white, one black, one Mexican, and one part Native-American.

They had two further #1s in the US (where ‘I Wanna Sex You Up’ stalled at #2), including the actually pretty great ‘All 4 Love’, which was their only other UK Top 10. They split up in 1998. They’ve left behind a complicated legacy: some sources list this as one of the ‘50 Worst Songs Ever’, while others have it as one of the ‘100 Greatest Songs of the ‘90s’. Personally I’d lean towards the former, though it is so silly in places that it almost becomes quite fun.

660. ‘Do the Bartman’, by The Simpsons

As with all novelty singles, I approach this next number one with trepidation, my finger hovering reluctantly over the play button. But the intro actually sounds quite cool: a new jack swing beat and a squelchy bassline. Something by Janet Jackson perhaps, or a Prince ‘B’-side…

Do the Bartman, by The Simpsons (their 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, from 10th February – 3rd March 1991

The only version available on Spotify is the five minute (!) album version – from ‘The Simpsons Sing the Blues’ LP – so I don’t know for how long this intro did its funky thing on the single-edit. Eventually Homer comes in, yelling at Bart for some unspecified misdemeanour. Nobody saw me… I didn’t do it…

From here on things follow a fairly formulaic hip-hop single format: i.e. rapper tells us how great he is. Except here the rapper is a yellow cartoon boy, voiced by a thirty-five year woman (kudos to Nancy Cartwright here, as it can’t be easy rapping while putting on such a voice). There are some fun lines: I’m the kid that made delinquency an art, Last name Simpson, First name Bart… but the song ends up caught between not being funny enough to work as a novelty, yet still being gimmicky enough to annoy. The ‘joke’ wears especially thin on the, it bears repeating, five minutes long extended album version.

The fact that this does almost work as a pop song is probably down to the alleged involvement of Michael Jackson. He’s not credited – his label insisted he couldn’t be – and there are differing accounts of what he actually contributed towards the song, but it seems he wrote some of the lyrics and contributed backing vocals, as well as giving the song its title. He also apparently insisted that he be name-checked (If you can do the Bart, You’re bad like Michael Jackson…) Jackson would also feature in an episode of The Simpsons a few months after this had been a hit single. The video too is a six-minute long MJ-esque epic, in which Bart takes over a school talent show with his new dance routine (or was it all a dream…?)

It’s credited to ‘The Simpsons’, but it’s largely just Bart. Lisa gets a saxophone solo, and Homer gets to yell throughout. Marge and Maggie are conspicuous by their absence. I wonder if, to many British listeners, ‘Do the Bartman’ was their first exposure to ‘The Simpsons’. At the time this was released, the show was just halfway through its second season in the US, and was only broadcast on satellite TV in the UK (I remember it coming to terrestrial TV, on Channel 4, much later in the mid-nineties). If so, the song’s success is quite remarkable, as I’m not sure it holds much enjoyment for someone who’s never seen the show.

Anyway, in this moment ‘The Simpsons’ was on the verge of becoming the biggest TV programme in the world. Between series three and ten it was untouchable, and a fixture in my own house every dinner time. They even managed a second Top 10 single, another hip-hop track (and actually much better than this) ‘Deep, Deep Trouble’. After that, the show came to a natural conclusion in the early 2000s, and is remembered as one of the best series ever, and as a lesson in how to go out on top. Right? No…?

654. ‘Ice Ice Baby’, by Vanilla Ice

Alright stop. Collaborate and listen… It’s time for one of the most maligned number one singles of all time.

Ice Ice Baby, by Vanilla Ice (his 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 25th November – 23rd December 1990

And I get the hate. Yes, it’s ridiculous. Yes, it sounds very dated. Yes, Vanilla Ice comes across as a weapons-grade moron. But, let me play devil’s advocate. A) Being ridiculous isn’t necessarily a disadvantage for a record that wants to be a hit. This is far from the first ridiculous chart-topper. B) Early hip hop records do sound dated, very focused on rhyme and meter. And C) As for Vanilla Ice looking like a moron… Well, show me any rapper that you wouldn’t look at in the street and think seemed a bit eccentric.

Yet at the same time, Vanilla Ice is the worst thing about this record. Away from his look at me lyrics (If my rhyme was a drug, I’d sell it by the gram…) I’d say the moody synths and the riff that sounds suspiciously like a #1 from ten years earlier could easily form the basis of a hit single in 2023. And I say that it sounds ‘like’ ‘Under Pressure’, because Vanilla Ice claimed that it wasn’t a sample, and that he’d added an extra note. Queen and David Bowie weren’t terribly convinced – they settled out of court and were given co-writing credits.

Nowadays, for sure, ‘Ice Ice Baby’ is a punchline, bound to feature on a ‘Worst Moments of the ‘90s’ clipshow on Channel 5. But, at the time, was it taken seriously? It seems that it was, getting good reviews in Billboard, the NME, and Entertainment Weekly. When exactly the tide turned, I’m not sure. Perhaps it was a victim of its own success, or perhaps the controversy over the ‘sample’ took the gloss off it? Vanilla Ice – whose real name is the gloriously un-gangsta Robert Van Winkle – seems simultaneously annoyed by this albatross around his neck, and unwilling to let it die. He’s released live versions and anniversary remixes, as well as a nu-metal version (which is better than it has any right to be…)

Van Winkle never matched the heights of his debut single. The follow-up, a cover of ‘Play That Funky Music’, made #10 and since then he’s never bothered the Top 20. He’s had a troubled time of it, with firearms charges, burglary, domestic abuse and illegal drag-racing on his rap sheet. And yet, here he stands, with only the 2nd hip-hop #1 in British chart history (and certainly the most credible of the two so far, after ‘Turtle Power’.)

I’m still not sure how to finish and move on from ‘Ice Ice Baby’. On the one hand, it seems to have set hip-hop back by a good few years. At the same time, it’s a very modern rap track: the lyrics are all about how bad-ass, how dangerous, and how popular with the ladies Ice is. And there isn’t a rapper around who hasn’t recorded at least one self-aggrandising track. But I’m not sure it’s very good. It might even be terrible. Let’s leave the final word to Mr Van Winkle: Let’s get out of here, Word to yo’ mother… And speaking of bad-ass mofos; Cliff Richard’s up next!

648. ‘Turtle Power’, by Partners in Kryme

Cowabunga! God, I used to love the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles. (Not, note, the Ninja Turtles, as the word ‘ninja’ apparently had too many violent connotations for UK audiences). Strangely, though, I was completely unaware of this song. Maybe because it was from the soundtrack to the Turtle’s first live-action movie, which I’ve never seen, rather than the far superior animated TV series.

Turtle Power, by Partners in Kryme (their 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, from 22nd July – 19th August 1990

Still, I was expecting this to be a remake of the classic theme tune (Heroes in a half-shell, Turtle Power!) I was also fully expecting it to be terrible. But… It’s neither of those things. It’s an actually quite funky rap track, with a new jack swing beat and creepy organs. It sounds a little, bear with me, like Dr Dre covering ‘The Monster Mash’.

The verses tell the story of the Turtles, and how they came to be. Splinter’s the teacher, Shredder the bad guy, while April O’Neil’s the reporter. (Partners in Kryme were clearly given a remit to mention every character at least once.) It also has to set up the movie: The crime wave is high with mugging mysterious, All police and detectives are furious, ‘Cause they can’t find the source, Of this lethally evil force… Plus one stanza is given over to ‘believe in yourself kids’ motivation: So when you’re in trouble don’t give in and turn sour, Try to rely on your, Turtle Power…

According to some sources, this is the very first hip-hop track to make #1 in the UK. I’m not sure that New Edition would agree with that, or Snap!, or Soul II Soul, or John Barnes. But I get the point: those acts had elements of it in their hit singles; this is pure hip-hop. Which means that when rap properly debuts atop the British charts, it arrives spitting rhymes like: Pizza’s the food that’s sure to please, These ninjas are into pepperoni and cheese…

I genuinely expected to hate this. But I don’t. The kid in me enjoys the heavily vocodered chorus: T-U-R-T-L-E power…, and then there’s also the nostalgia factor of it being from one of my favourite childhood cartoons. Lyrics aside, I think this might genuinely hold up, in a way that not all early rap does. Partners in Kryme were a duo from New York, made up of DJ Keymaster Snow and MC Golden Voice. I’m not sure if they were formed for this record; but they had no other hits, before or after, making them a classic one-hit wonder. (The ‘Kryme’ in their name stands for Keep Rhythm Your Motivating Element. Which is catchy.)

Whether or not this really was the first hip-hop chart-topper, 1990 was certainly the year it went mainstream. Snap!, John Barnes’ rap, as already mentioned, plus this, and a skinny, Queen-sampling white guy coming up very soon. It’s certainly going mainstream, but it’s still largely seen as a novelty. We’ll have to wait a while for a ‘serious’ rap #1, but when the time does come there’ll be no looking back for hip-hop as chart-topping force.