932. ‘Colourblind’, by Darius

We’ve had the ‘Pop Idol’ winner, and the runner-up. Why not have the bronze medallist…?

Colourblind, by Darius (his 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 4th – 18th August 2002

Darius Danesh had never really been in the running to win the contest against the big two, but he made it to the penultimate round. Then he did the unimaginable, turning down an offer from Simon Cowell and striking out alone. Which means we have the first self-penned reality TV chart-topper.

Under the guise of authenticity, we’re often encouraged to approve more of music that is written by the people singing it. When I was a teen it was a big indicator of an artist or groups’ talent. “Yes, but do they write their own songs…?” Yet, every song is written by someone. There is no such thing as a song tree. And nobody criticises actors for reading somebody else’s lines. Why does it matter if you sing someone else’s song? It worked for Dusty Springfield, the greatest singer Britain has ever produced. It worked for Elvis, who wrote about three songs in his lifetime.

All that is a roundabout way of saying “well done Darius” on writing a number one single; but also of saying that the song is no better than Will Young’s version of ‘Light My Fire’, and is not as good as Gareth Gates’ ‘Anyone of Us’. It has a big pop chorus – You’re the light when I close my eyes, I’m colourblind… – and a modern, very pop-rock feel. This is the future of rock music, really. For guitars to appear at the top of the charts later in the 21st century, they’ve had to soften their edges and exist in songs like this, or by One Republic, or (shudder) The Script…

But it’s let down by the fact that it sounds written-to-order for a rom-com (a 54% on Rotten Tomatoes sort of rom-com), and by the gauche lyrics, in which Darius lists all the colours he feels when he sees the girl he fancies. Feeling black, When I think of all the things that I feel I lack…

Darius was born in Glasgow (in Bearsden, the posh bit) to a Scottish-Iranian family. Post-singing career I remember him always popping up on Scottish TV, as we do love a local kid done good (see also: Michelle McManus). Following ‘Colourblind’ he managed two albums, and four more Top 10 singles, before moving into both said TV career, and a successful stint in musical theatre. The fact he had any sort of career at all is testament to his perseverance, after his legendarily bad performance of ‘…Baby One More Time’ while auditioning for Popstars in 2000. He died very young, aged just forty-one, in 2022, from a suspected accidental overdose.

894. ‘What Took You So Long?’, by Emma Bunton

Finally! Ten-year-old me’s OG favourite Spice Girl gets her solo number one…

What Took You So Long?, by Emma Bunton (her 1st and only solo #1)

2 weeks, from 8th – 22nd April 2001

We’ve had rapping Spices, banging trance Spices, Latina Spices… Emma meanwhile goes down a very nice, very drive-time radio, soft-rock route. This is classy, grown-up pop.

There are lots of digital swishes and swirls, especially in the dream-pop middle eight (where the producers were reaching for a ‘Pure Shores’ feel), but at its heart this is an acoustic guitar led song, accompanied by tambourines and handclaps and what a middle-class mum might think of as a hippyish atmosphere. It sounds like it was recorded on real instruments at least, and isn’t the sort of thing that we’ve heard on top of the charts recently.

Is it an exaggeration to say that I could hear Sheryl Crow releasing something not a million miles away from this? Or maybe Natalie Imbruglia. The bridge in particular is lovely, with Emma’s vocals coming through pure and clear. If Mel C was the Spice who could sing, Emma was the one who could give her a run for her money.

Compared to her bandmates, Baby was slow to launch a solo career. She’d featured on the one-off #2 hit ‘What I Am’ with Tin Tin Out in 1999, but this was her official solo launch. And it is to her – and the Spice Girls’ – credit that there was still enough interest in them as artists for her to make the top of the charts. And, impressively, to become the first Solo Spice to remain at #1 for a second week.

It is also to their credit that across their eight solo number ones (there’s still one more from Geri to come) there has been such a variety of styles. They’ve been of varying quality, but there have been no real clunkers. You can argue that they would have had the very best producers and songwriters queuing up to work with them, but I think the Girls also had some musical nous about them. They wouldn’t have become such global superstars otherwise.

Although this is her only solo number one, Emma Bunton managed seven Top 10 hits in total, one behind Geri’s eight, making her the second most successful Solo Spice. She can also claim the most recent Top 10 of any of the Girls, with her 2006 cover of ‘Downtown’ which made #3.

Random Runners-Up: ‘Everybody Knows’, by The Dave Clark Five

Our next #2 takes us back to the winter of 1967 – The Winter of Love, as nobody called it – and a band who had scored their sole chart-topper almost four years earlier…

‘Everybody Knows’, by the Dave Clark Five

#2 for 2 weeks, from 29th November to 5th December and 13th to 19th December 1967, behind ‘Let the Heartaches Begin’ and ‘Hello, Goodbye’

Of the five songs that I’ll feature this week, this is the one I’d never heard before writing the post. And it’s a tune that’s very typical of the time. A waltzing rhythm, soaring strings, glossy, chiming guitars… A world away from the pounding pop of ‘Glad All Over’. In fact I’d say it owes a large debt to the big breakout star of 1967 – pillow-lipped crooner extraordinaire, Engelbert Humperdinck. (The Hump went and covered ‘Everybody Knows’ for his ‘Last Waltz’ LP, and made the bold choice to change the lyrics so that he was singing about a man…)

This is a nice enough song, with a lovely key change in the build up to the chorus. But it’s a sign of where pop music was post-British Invasion, when the hippy dream started to go sour, and the sixties started to lose a little of their swing. The best bands ploughed their own furrows: The Beatles went to India; The Stones went satanic; The Kinks hopped down a rabbit-hole of nostalgia… While the rest were left trying to remain relevant. Hence perhaps why The Dave Clark Five ended up sounding like something your gran might shimmy around the living room to, rather than being at the forefront of the hot pop sounds.

Despite it being unashamedly old-fashioned, this single gave the DC5 their biggest hit since ‘Glad All Over’. Possibly the time of year helped, as who can resist a bit of schmaltz at Christmas time? Contrarily, the band had already released a song called ‘Everybody Knows (I Still Love You)’ in 1964, meaning that this one has become unoffically known as ‘Everybody Knows (You Said Goodbye)’. And though it may sound like a swansong, this wasn’t the end for the Five. They still had three Top 10 hits to come, the last of which came in 1970, meaning they outlasted many of their contemporaries.

Tomorrow we’ll have our final runner-up of the series, and if it isn’t another of the most famous #2 singles of all time…

681. ‘Sleeping Satellite’, by Tasmin Archer

It’s fair to say we needed a bit of a chillout, after cutting all those mad shapes to our past couple of chart-toppers, ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’ and ‘Ebeneezer Goode’. Enter Tasmin Archer then, with ‘Sleeping Satellite’.

Sleeping Satellite, by Tasmin Archer (her 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 11th – 25th October 1992

First things first, this is just as ‘nineties’ as the rave anthem that preceded it. The trip-hop drums and light guitars, for a start, and the way Archer sings the verses quietly before ending them LOUDLY. It’s very nu-soul, in the same vein perhaps as Lisa Stansfield’s semi-recent #1, and the lyrics are quite new-age – a genre that’s been popping up ever since Enya in 1988. It’s grown up, is what it is. Your mum might say she’d heard it on the radio the other morning, and quite liked it. Certainly no schoolboy innuendo about class-A drugs here.

Archer has a great voice, with a rasp that kicks in on those loud bits. You could perhaps accuse her of over-singing, but she gives the song an energy that stops it from becoming too MOR (you know, ‘mum oriented-rock’…) Because, let’s be honest, the lyrics are wishy-washy. I blame you for the moonlit sky, And the dream that died, With the eagles’ flights… She’s referencing the moon landings – the ‘Sleeping Satellite’ of the title is our very own moon – and the fact that we’re neglecting Earth in favour of space adventure. Though, to be fair, the lines in which she seems to be predicting an apocalypse don’t seem too far off, thirty years on…

I like the organ that kicks in, and the power chords that offer some oomph as the song grows. It goes on a bit too long, though, and ultimately the message gets lost in the perfectly pleasant melody. It’s one of those songs, outside Christmas classics, and the various summer-themed number ones, that perfectly suits the time of year that it reached top spot. This was an autumn #1, ideal as the nights started to draw in. I’d also suggest that it joins the likes of ‘Baby Jump’, Slik, and Boris Gardner, as one of the most-forgotten number ones of its time.

‘Sleeping Satellite’ was Tasmin Archer’s debut release, with her having previously worked as a backing singer and recording studio assistant in Bradford. She’s labelled as a one-hit wonder, which is unfair as her follow-up single made the Top 20. In fact she has five Top 40 hits, and a 1993 Brit Award for Best Breakthrough Act. She released her most recent album in 2006, before announcing that she was going into TV and film soundtrack work.

673. ‘Goodnight Girl’, by Wet Wet Wet

Into 1992 we go, then. A year that it won’t take us long to get through, as it only has twelve #1s – the lowest turnover of chart-toppers for thirty years. Why the charts slowed down so much as we move towards the mid-‘90s is something we might chat about in the coming posts…

Goodnight Girl, by Wet Wet Wet (their 2nd of three #1s)

4 weeks, from 19th January – 16th February 1992

We kick off with Clydebank lads Wet Wet Wet, last heard four years ago singing a peppy cover of ‘With a Little Help from My Friends’ for charity. Since then they’ve grown up: the hair is longer, the mood much more serious… Was this the original boy-band to man-band transition, a path since followed by Take That, Westlife and more…?

It’s a nice enough ballad. Lots of strings, a bit of piano, and an almost a cappella feel to the vocals. Marti Pellow takes the lead of course, but the three others whose names I don’t know weave themselves around him. It could have crumpled into bland, MOR mush; but the chorus is an earworm, with real purpose to it: Caught up in your wishing well, Your hopes inside it…

The video is very 1992, and not nearly as clever as it thinks it is. Why is there a priest swinging on a pendulum? Why indeed? The same applies to the lyrics, really, but if you allow them to just wash over you then the melodies, and Pellow’s voice, are enough to make this an enjoyable, if low-key, start to the year. It seems that Wet Wet Wet had managed to grow old(er) gracefully. It was also my 6th birthday #1, and perhaps that means I give it extra fondness points.

‘Goodnight Girl’ is a bit of an anomaly in the Wet Wet Wet discography. As well as being their only self-penned number one, it was the only Top 10 hit the band managed between 1989 and 1994. It’s pleasant enough, but I’m not sure I can explain why it so spectacularly broke their slump. Was it as simple as it being released in January, traditionally the quietest time for new singles? Anyway, they’ll come back properly in a couple of years, with an (almost) record-breaking mega-hit that will set them up for the rest of the decade, and beyond.

667. ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’, by Bryan Adams

Oh Lordy, here we go…

(Everything I Do) I Do It for You, by Bryan Adams (his 1st of two #1s)

16 weeks, from 7th July – 27th October 1991

The 1980s gets the rep as the era of the power-ballad, when big drums and even bigger hair stalked the pop landscape. And yes, the ‘80s gave us ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’, ‘Take My Breath Away’, ‘The Power of Love’… All gigantic anthems. All of them, to me at least, pretty good. But the 1990s was when power ballads really started to bulk up, to hit the gym, to mutate, Jurassic World-style, into the beast that stands before us now…

Everything about this record is colossal. The slow-build intro, the strained vocals, the sentiment, the production… Nothing is subtle, nothing left to chance. The title, even, tells you exactly what sort of song this will be before you even press play. The listener is not required to think; they merely have to submit to its awesome power. I bet very few of the couples who’ve chosen this as a first dance at their wedding actually like the song; they’ve just been bludgeoned into submission, a sort of musical Stockholm syndrome.

I could pick any line from ‘(Everything I Do…)’ and bask in its cliched stupidity. It’s all the sort of the stuff even a lovestruck fourteen-year-old would think was too overwrought. Take me as I am, Take my life, I would give it all, I would sacrifice… Bryan Adams growls. I get that we live nowadays in a more cynical age, but did anyone actually take this seriously at the time?

Well, probably. Because a record this overblown couldn’t just have a couple of weeks at #1. Not even a couple of months would suffice. No, ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’ needed sixteen long weeks at the top to get its message across. It famously holds the record for the most consecutive weeks at number one (though not the most weeks in total: Frankie Laine’s ‘I Believe’ racked up eighteen over three different runs in 1953). And the UK wasn’t alone in suffering through a summer (and autumn) of Adams. It was #1 for seven weeks in the US, nine in his homeland of Canada, eleven in Australia, and twelve in Sweden.

But there’s a reason why this record, despite its success, has been semi-forgotten, and earlier power ballads by Bonnie Tyler and co remain well-loved. ‘(Everything I Do)…’ just isn’t fun. There’s nothing here that isn’t full-on, one-hundred percent sincerity. And for a power ballad to truly work, you need to feel that the singer is aware, on some level, that what they’re singing is ridiculous. And yet here’s this behemoth, with all the charm of a constipated brontosaurus. Adams isn’t an insufferable guy – he’s recorded plenty of fun, upbeat songs – but this one…? It’s way too earnest.

It’s also probably an indicator of where we are, in pop music terms. The fun of glam metal has fizzled out, and grunge hasn’t quite broken through yet. (Symbolically, ‘Nevermind’ was released right in the middle of this record’s long, long run at the top…) Glam metal hadn’t made much impact at the top of the British charts (neither would grunge for that matter), but it did mean that guitars slowly returned to the mainstream and allowed huge hit singles like this. (Compare this with a power-ballad from the mid-eighties, and it’s much more ‘rock’.)

This single was of course from the soundtrack to ‘Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves’, the ginormous box-office hit of that summer. Chart-toppers from movie soundtracks have been around since the dawn of the charts, but it does feel as if they are taking over in the early nineties. Of the last five #1s, all have been from soundtracks (if we count stage shows as well as films). And this won’t be the last theme song to make it to double-figures at the top of the charts. We’ve got plenty more of these mutant power-ballads to come soon… Brace yourselves.

(For some reason, the single-edit version of the video to ‘(Everything I Do)…’ seems to have been erased from history in favour of the six and a half minute album version.)

663. ‘The One and Only’, by Chesney Hawkes

Next up, a beloved nineties classic…

The One and Only, by Chesney Hawkes (his 1st and only #1)

5 weeks, from 24th March – 28th April 1991

…which I’ve never understood the love for. It does have a fun intro, I will admit, with what sounds like guitars fed through a motorbike engine. And at the time, the first appearance of the soaring title line: I am the one and only… must certainly have caught the ears.

But beyond that, and with the benefit of hindsight and over-saturation, this is a very middling effort. As Chesney Hawkes moves into the first verse, things settle down into run of the mill power balladry. It’s not helped by the fact that the lyrics read like a self-help book: No one can be myself like I can, For this job I’m the best man… And while this may be true, You are the one and only you… It’s all pretty lame: ‘rock’ music for people who don’t quite know what rock music is.

And yet, it is rock. Ok, pop rock. Guitars feature prominently, though, and there’s a solo – one that fades in comparison to those we’ve heard recently from Queen and Iron Maiden, but still. It’s another tick in the ‘rock is making a comeback’ box as we move deeper into the 1990s. My problem is that this was played to death in nightclubs when I was a student, and the chorus is up there with ‘Sweet Caroline’, or ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’, for punchable ubiquity. No amount of alcohol can make me enjoy it these days, and I’m not sure I ever did. (God, with this and ‘The Stonk’, I’m sounding quite the curmudgeon recently…)

Chesney Hawkes was just nineteen when this, his debut single, made number one. His boy-next-door charms are undeniable – outrageously floppy hair and cute mole on the upper lip – but no self-respecting rock star pronounces ‘rather’ like he does. He came from chart-topping stock, though: his father was Len ‘Chip’ Hawkes of The Tremeloes, who played on their 1967 number one ‘Silence Is Golden’. (Nowadays Chesney acts as lead-singer when the Tremeloes go on tour.) And that’s not the only sixties link we can make here, as ‘The One and Only’ came from the soundtrack to ‘Buddy’s Song’, a film starring Hawkes as a wannabe rock star and none other than Roger Daltrey as his dad. In fact, this is possibly as close as a member of The Who ever came to featuring on a number one single… (though to be fair did Pete Townshend play bass on ‘Something in the Air’)

Chesney failed to repeat the success of his debut single, and has never charted higher than #27 with any of his subsequent releases. He’s still active in the public eye, appearing on various reality TV shows and, of course, the nineties nostalgia circuit. He’s only fifty one, despite his biggest hit coming thirty two years ago, which is suddenly making me feel very old as well…

647. ‘Sacrifice’ / ‘Healing Hands’, by Elton John

It’s amazing to think that Elton John went the entirety of the eighties without a number one single. It’s amazing to think that, twenty years into a stellar career, this was his first solo UK chart-topper. But perhaps most surprisingly, it’s amazing that this particular record was a hit at all.

Sacrifice / Healing Hands, by Elton John (his 2nd of ten #1s)

5 weeks, from 17th June – 22nd July 1990

It’s a decent enough song. Elton and Bernie could still knock out a good tune, even this far into their partnership. But it’s very middle-of-the-road, very made-for-Radio-2, very much Elton John reinventing himself for middle age (he was approaching forty-five when it eventually made #1).

And, given that this is adult-oriented soft rock, the lyrics are on a fittingly grown-up theme. Into the boundary, Of each married man, Sweet deceit comes calling, And negativity lands… Ergo, men are men, and they all cheat. I’m pretty sure he blames the frigid woman: Cold, cold heart, Hard done by you… Bernie Taupin was coming to the end of his second marriage at the time of writing, and you do wonder if that might have been an influence.

Away from the lyrics, this has all the glossy touches you’d expect of a soft rock ballad in 1990. I don’t dislike it – in many ways it’s a sophisticated piece of song writing befitting of the nation’s (second?) most prolific hit making partnership – but it also gives me the feeling of mineral water poured over ice: crisp, and clear, and pretty cold. Yet it’s lingered on in the Elton John canon, seemingly held in higher regard than I afford it, and the Cold, cold heart line formed the basis of a 2021 #1, thirty-one years on…

The flip side of this double-‘A’, ‘Healing Hands’, is a bit more lively. It’s a bouncy rocker: a little bluesy, a little gospel. It was apparently inspired by the Four Top’s ‘Reach Out, I’ll Be There’, and you can hear it in the chorus: Reach out, For her healing hands… Is it just me, or is he suggesting that God is a woman…? Anyway, it’s a great vocal performance from John and, while he gets plenty of praise for his showmanship and his presence, I’m not sure he always gets enough credit for his voice.

Again, though, it’s very mum-friendly. Why now? Why, on the verge of being a very old man (in pop star terms) did Elton score the biggest British hit of his career? We have time to ponder this as ‘Healing Hands’ meanders towards its conclusion (seriously, it has one of the longest fade-outs ever). ‘Sacrifice’ had been released nine months before, making a lowly #55. Steve Wright then started playing it on Radio 1 (crushing my Radio 2 theory from four paragraphs ago), it was re-released with ‘Healing Hands’, and the rest was history. Proceeds from the record’s sales went to four different AIDS charities, which again probably help boost sales.

We can perhaps see this record as a dividing point in Elton John’s career. Long gone were the hit-filled, rhinestoned, giant spectacled days of the seventies. The eighties had brought addiction, rehab, a doomed marriage, fewer hits… By 1990, he’d had one Top 10 single in five years. If this hadn’t caught fire, would Elton have faded into obscurity and the nostalgia circuits? Maybe that’s a stretch, but it definitely set him up for a huge career renaissance in the 1990s. Superstar duets, Disney themes, and the planet’s biggest-selling single of all time, were all about to follow…

619. ‘First Time’, by Robin Beck

We began 1988 with some girl-led light-rock from Belinda Carlisle, and we round it off (well, almost) with something similar from Robin Beck.

First Time, by Robin Beck (her 1st and only #1)

3 weeks, from 13th November – 4th December 1988

I have to admit, the moment where the guitars rev and lock in to a chuggin’ riff is musical catnip to me. There is no better sound in pop music than when tight guitars kicks in. (Not that the guitars here are anything beyond run of the mill; it’s just been so absent from the top of the charts recently.) The solo is great too, played in soaring fashion by a Slash-a-like.

Problem is, the rest of the song doesn’t know what it is. The production elsewhere is soft and glossy – it begins and ends like a Disney theme – and the verses float by anonymously. Had they gone full-out rock, then this could have been one of the decade’s great power ballads. At the same time, had they gone guitar-less, this would have been one of the decade’s drippiest (in a decade with stiff competition in that department…)

As it is, this is a perfectly ‘okay’ soft rock tune. The ascending chorus: And it’s taken control, Of my body and mind, It began when I heard ‘I love you’… For the very first time! would be a great one for belting out drunk (I can’t hear it without imagining someone murdering it at karaoke). The fact that the only version of ‘First Time’ available on Spotify is from an album called ‘Music for a Girls Night Out’ says it all.

The video for this one is, and I apologise for dragging this phrase out yet again, peak-eighties. Soft-focus, slow motion, black and white, long shadows, white sofas, Ms Beck’s gigantic hair … All boxes checked. I was thinking its success might have been movie related, but it was yet another #1 from an advert, following on from ‘Stand by Me’ and ‘He Ain’t Heavy…’. It was in a Coca-Cola advert, no less, meaning it becomes the second chart-topper to advertise the world’s favourite soft drink (replacing For the very first time… with Coca-Cola is it…in the advert). Perhaps controversially, I’d take this over The New Seekers teaching the world to sing…

For someone of my age, ‘First Time’ will forever exist – for better or worse – in the dance version by Sunblock that made #9 in 2006 (and on which Robin Beck was credited) And if the original video is peak-eighties, then the Sunblock video is pure mid-00s. That was Beck’s first chart appearance since the follow up to ‘First Time’ had made #84. She still records and tours, and seems to have remained fairly popular in Germany and Scandinavia.

602. ‘Heaven Is a Place on Earth’, by Belinda Carlisle

1988, then. And the year begins with a bang. And, ooh baby, do you know what that’s worth?

Heaven Is a Place on Earth, by Belinda Carlisle (her 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 10th – 24th January 1988

Oooh heaven is a place on earth… It’s a song that stretches itself across a lot of ‘80s sub-genres. The chords are power pop, the guitars are glam, the soaring vocals are very of-the-moment power ballad. And they all add up to a great pop song, with just enough of an edge to widen its appeal beyond teeny boppers.

In fact, I’d say that ‘Heaven Is a Place on Earth’ represents as a UK #1 a lot of the rock-pop-power ballad fare sung by women – think Heart, think Joan Jett, think Cher in black leather straddling a ship’s cannon – that was slightly more successful across the Atlantic in the mid-to-late eighties.

And Belinda Carlisle did have an authentic rock background, having been singer for punk/new wave band the Go-Gos in the late seventies and early eighties. So I was imagining ripped jeans and spiky hair, a la the aforementioned Joan Jett (another punk alumnus). But Belinda Carlisle has much more of a ‘girl next door’ vibe in the music video – nice lip-gloss and bouncy hair – even when she’s writhing against walls. While she was almost thirty when this was released: pretty old for a girl next door, and for a female pop star in general, so fair play to her.

The song at times does indulge a few too many eighties practices. It’s very glossy – that goes without saying – and while the guitars do snarl they remain pretty restrained, like an angry bulldog shackled to a pole. The break in the middle is meandering, as if they were intending to add a proper solo but forgot. And there’s a gigantic key-change, which has apparently been named as ‘one of the best key-changes in music history’… I don’t quite hear that. A fairly common-or-garden key change, for me.

These are minor quibbles, though, with what is a pretty strong pop-rock song. It’s a positive start to 1988, keeping the lively pace set by Pet Shop Boy’s ‘Always on My Mind’. Actually, we’ve hit of a vein of pop classics, and they’ll keep coming for the next couple of posts. But… As good as ‘Heaven Is a Place on Earth’ is, it doesn’t compare to Carlisle’s best song: the lead-single from her next album, the George Harrison featuring ‘Leave a Light On’. It would make only #4, in 1989…

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