249. Louis Armstrong – What a Wonderful World/Cabaret (1968)

5cmHZ1RAwaCCTQ6RFf9zTzTbxSJt948r1yF0NRuOXYBtFyluB1PutGFr66uk0tp-2pKWn57eOMEkRycE6M9o8R8ZCVhaDZ1gzHsFsryG8eNLGE2h23fmJwcJor5NwwTfXOv8p2kT.jpg

Spring 1968: The Abortion Act 1967 came into effect on 27 April. legalising abortion on a number of grounds, with free provision through the National Health Service. On 3 May, Mr Frederick West, aged 45 and definitely not serial killer Fred West, became Britain’s first heart transplant patient. Five days later, the Kray Twins, Ronnie and Reggie, 34, were among 18 men arrested in dawn raids throughout London. The Krays stood accused of several crimes, including fraud, blackmail, assault and murder.

In sporting news, Manchester City won the Football League First Division title on 11 May, and a week later, West Bromwich Albion defeated Everton at Wembley Stadium to win the FA Cup for the fifth time.

At number 1 that fortnight was one of 1968’s best-sellers. Jazz legend Louis Armstrong, 66, became the oldest man to have a number 1 single with the slushy, swinging double A-side What a Wonderful World/Cabaret. ‘Satchmo’ held the record until 2009, when Tom Jones took part in the Comic Relief single Islands in the Stream.

Born 4 August 1901 in New Orleans (this date was only discovered in the 1980s), Armstrong was raised by his grandmother until he was five, when he was then returned to his mother, his father having left the family. He had a rough childhood, raised in an area known as The Battlefield. At the age of seven he was doing odd jobs for a Lithuanian Jewish family called the Karnoffskys. Seeing how they were subject to persecution like his fellow blacks, he began wearing a Star of David in solidarity, which he wore for the rest of his life.

He would hear jazz music playing in the local brothels and dance halls, and began playing a tin horn until Morris Karnoffsky gave him an advance for a cornet. Armstrong dropped out of school aged 11, and would begin performing with a group of boys who sang in the street for money. He was arrested for firing a blank from his stepfather’s gun and sent to detention at the Coloured Waif’s home. It was a tough way of life at the home, but Armstrong found time to develop his musical skills and began playing in a band. He was released in 1914, and would find work performing on riverboats around New Orleans.

By the time he was 20, Armstrong had taken giant leaps musically, having learnt to read music. He was performing extended trumpet solos, and had begun to sing too. Satchmo moved to Chicago in 1922 to perform with King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band. Although race relations were poor in the city, he found plenty of work, and was finally living in an apartment with his own bath. A year later the band made their first recordings, but in 1924, Armstrong was persuaded by his future wife Lil Hardin to broaden his horizons and smarten up.

By 1925 he was working for his new wife in the Lil Hardin Armstong Band, before forming his own group. Soon, Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five were releasing music, and his easygoing, charming style was developing. Heebie Jeebies, released in 1926, was one of the first recordings to feature scat singing, and Potato Head Blues was a hit in 1927. That same year, his band expanded and became the Hot Seven.

By 1929 he was seperated from his wife and living in New York, where he recorded his biggest hit to date, a cover of Ain’t Misbehavin’. In the 30s he would record his vocals with an RCA ribbon microphone, which added extra warmth to his voice and made him one of the first crooners, his version of Lazy River becoming one of Bing Crosby’s favourite songs.

The Great Depression had a sizeable impact on jazz, but Satchmo could afford to continue. He moved to Los Angeles and drew the Hollywood crowd to his performances. In 1931 he starred in his first film, Ex-Flame, and was also convicted of marijuana posession, but he recieved a suspended sentence. His woes grew, with the Mob on his back, eventually causing him to flee to Europe, Upon his return he hired a tougher manager to sort out his varied money problems, but he began struggling to play the trumpet, and so increased his vocals instead and starred in further movies, including Bing Crosby’s Pennies from Heaven in 1936.

By 1943, the trumpeter and singer was settled permanently in Queens, New York with his fourth wife, Lucille. Taking advantage of a revival in 20s-style jazz, he formed Louis Armstrong and His All Stars. He became the first jazz musician to appear on the cover of Time in 1949.

In the 50s, Armstrong was a globetrotting, iconic figure, but he was no longer cutting-edge, and he bristled at the new generation of jazz musicians such as Miles Davis and Charlie Parker. Health issues began, and exacerbated by a gruelling touring schedule, he suffered a heart attack in Italy in 1959.

Armstrong took the hint and slowed down. He didn’t set foot in a recording studio between 1962 and 1964, when he recorded one of his biggest sellers, Hello, Dolly!. Aged 62, he usurped the Beatles and became number 1 in the US. However, his health problems were worsening by the time he recorded What a Wonderful World in 1967.

Allegedly written with Tony Bennett in mind, who turned it down, this ballad was by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss. Thiele was a writer and producer, whose previous credits included working with Charles Mingus, Dizzy Gillespie and Sonny Rollins. He had also produced Don Cornell’s 1954 number 1, Hold My Hand. Weiss was an arranger and songwriter who had co-written hits including Lullaby of Birdland, The Lion Sleeps Tonight and Can’t Help Falling in Love.

Armstrong and the orchestra began recording at 2am following a gig in Las Vegas. He had recently signed with ABC Records, and their president, Larry Newton showed up to record Satchmo in action. Hoping for a repeat of the success of Hello, Dolly!, Newton was dismayed to hear the slow, saccharine song they were working on. So much so, in fact, he tried to stop the session, and found himself locked out of the studio as a result. The production overran until 6am, due to Newton and interference from nearby freight train whistles, but Armstrong merely laughed it all off, and in order to ensure the orchestra were paid for the overtime, he inisisted he was only paid $250. What a guy.

I love What a Wonderful World. Yes, it’s sentimental, and the dewey-eyed optimism should grate on me, and to be honest it does if I hear anyone else perform it. It’s all down to Louis Armstrong, really. Nearing the end of his life, he gives the track real gravitas. How can you not love that warm, rasping voice of his, set amongst such lush orchestration? Released during Vietnam and student protests, it served as a beacon of hope and a warning that humans needed to stop and think about what they were doing to the world. It’s a shame they didn’t stop for long enough to do anything about it. Its formidable chart success may lie in the fact Satchmo was able to unite the generations – the old guard would love a nice ballad from one of the biggest stars of their past, and the hippies could warm to the song’s message. However, upon its original release, it got nowhere in the US, due to the idiotic Newton refusing to promote it.

What a Wonderful World has nonetheless endured over the years, featuring in countless films, TV series and adverts over the years, often used as a stark reminder of what was happening to the planet, or in an ironic sense to highlight the horrors humans are capable of. Whenever it’s used, be it at the end of the radio and TV series’ of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, or during the comedy drama Good Morning, Vietnam (1988), it always resonates. It would return to number 1 in December 2007, in a ‘beyond the grave’ duet between Eva Cassidy and Katie Melua.

Louis Armstrong’s version of Cabaret has been largely forgotten due to the legacy of What a Wonderful World. Written by John Cander and Fred Ebb, it comes from the 1966 musical of the same name. It’s performed by the character Sally Bowles (later played by Liza Minnelli in the 1972 big-screen adaptation), and is meant as a bittersweet comment on the fact Bowleswants to stay in Nazi Germany but her lover is insisting she return to America to raise their daughter. Unlike the more famous track on this single, Armstrong eschews the song’s central message and instead performs it as a standard swinging jazz rendition. It’s nice enough, but you can see why it’s not as famous as the flip side.

By the time Louis Armstrong was at number 1 in the UK charts, he likely knew he wasn’t long for this world. He was forced to stop touring due to heart and kidney problems and spent most of 1969 at home, with no public appearances. He did however record the classic and sadly ironic We Have All the Time in the World for the James Bond film On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which also charted upon its rerelease in 1994. By 1970 his doctors said he was fit enough to perform live, but he had another heart attack while on a world tour, and took two months out. Against medical advice, he took part in a two-week residency in Manhattan. At the end he suffered another heart attack. And yet, he still couldn’t imagine not performing, and continued to practise in the hope he could get back on the road.

He died of another heart attack while asleep on 6 July 1971, a month before turning 70. His list of honorary pallbearers reads like a who’s who of 20th-century jazz and entertanment stars – Frank Sinatra, Count Basie, David Frost, Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald, Ed Sullivan, Johnny Carson and Peggy Lee, among others.

The popular image of Louis Armstrong as a cuddly teddy bear figure, beaming away on stage while he wipes away the sweat, has helped him be remembered long after many of his contemporaries. Jazz purists may scoff at this, and argue it takes away from his music, or even means he overshadows other important figures. And they may see What a Wonderful World as an aberration. But you don’t have to be an expert on jazz to love Satchmo. I showed my seven-year-old daughter a clip of a frail Armstrong performing his number 1 on a TV show in the 70s, and while she laughed at his eccentricities at first, she loved the song’s message, just like I had all those years ago. And its only a small part of an awesome legacy.

Written by: What a Wonderful World: Bob Thiele (credited as George Douglas) & George David Weiss/Cabaret: John Cander & Fred Ebb

Producer: Bob Thiele

Weeks at number 1: 4 (24 April-21 May)

Births:

Take That singer Howard Donald – 28 April
Comedian Julian Barratt – 4 May
Artist Rachel Jordan – 8 May
Politician Ruth Kelly – 9 May
Wrestler William Regal – 10 May
Comedian Catherine Tate – 12 May

Deaths:

Politician Ness Edwards – 3 May
Race car driver Mike Spence – 7 May 

 

248. Cliff Richard – Congratulations (1968)

50099288_1998121963636571_6181620251237920389_n.jpg

Well well well, if it isn’t comeback Cliff. It had been three years since Cliff Richard’s last number 1, the tepid The Minute You’re Gone. Once Britain’s answer to Elvis Presley, he had been considered an actual danger to the country’s youth when Move It became the first rock’n’roll hit by a Brit. Around the time of his last bestseller he had been struggling with the fact he was now a practising Christian. He relented from quitting music to become a teacher, and was working out a way of being a pop star and spreading the word of the Lord.

Fortunately, he still had a loyal fanbase, who stuck with him through Beatlemania and the hippy movement. Richard was still scoring top ten hits and narrowly missed out on the Christmas number 1 in 1965 to Day Tripper/We Can Work It Out (see Every Christmas Number 2). In 1966 he had a top ten hit with Visions, and another two with the Shadows (Time Drags By, and In the Country, which is in fact ace). In 1967 he had a further three with It’s All Over, The Day I Met Marie and All My Love (Solo Tu).

Despite worries it would ruin her credibility, Sandie Shaw had become the first UK winner of Eurovision that year with Puppet on a String, and it had revistalised her career. Cliff and/or his management must have taken note, and perhaps feeling he had no ‘cool’ image left to ruin, repeating Shaw’s feat could help Richard solidify his new Christian family entertainer stylings. And so he appeared on The Cilla Black Show performing six songs that the public would then vote on, with Cliff performing the winner at the event in the Royal Albert Hall on 6 April. Like Shaw the year previous, he wasn’t best pleased with the nominated song.

Congratulations was written by Bill Martin and Phil Coulter, the duo behind Puppet on a String. Coulter presented Martin with a melody and song title, I Think I Love You. Nice tune, but Martin argued that you either loved someone or you didn’t. He looked for a five-syllable word for a new title, and there and then created a song that would be used to, well, celebrate stuff for years to come.

The ubiquitous Congratulations has been derided over the years, but praise Cliff’s Lord, it’s better than the incessantly crazed Puppet on a String. Not only that, it’s the singer’s best number 1 since he and the Shadows released Summer Holiday in 1963, shortly before the Beatles changed everything. The lyrics may be on the smug side, but nobody actually remembers anything but the song’s title, and Martin and Coulter really struck gold there, creating a memorable chorus with a theme that everyone can relate to. The oompah slow down just before the end is a bit lazy and clearly designed to appeal to European audiences, and like many pop standards, I’d be happy to never hear it again, but I can’t help but like it at the same time. Incidentally, that’s future Led Zeppelin member John Paul Jones you can hear on bass guitar.

Such was Congratulations‘ potential, the British press got fully behind Cliff, and even ran articles asking which country would come second to it at Eurovision. As you can see in the clip above, he performed on the day with gusto, beaming away and doing some unusual strutting while dressed in the outfit that inspired Mike Myers in Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997). It looked certain to be two years in a row for the United Kingdom, but then Germany had the penultimate vote, and perhaps in revenge for the World Cup final two years before, they gave Spain six points. Congratulations lost out by one measly point to Massiel’s spectacularly named La, La, La.

Cliff Richard had the last laugh. La, La, La has long since been forgotten (understandable, considering the title) but Congratulations was a hit all around the continent, and became the pop star’s ninth chart-topper. It remains one of his most popular songs, and he often pulls it out of the bag for big occasions, such as outside Buckingham Palace after the Royal Wedding in 1981, and at Southampton Docks the following year when British troops returned victorious after the Falklands war, which is pretty poor taste really. It must have been pretty satisfying to knock the Beatles off their lofty perch for a change, too.

But did Cliff really lose Eurovision? In 2008 a documentary was released by Spanish filmmaker Montse Fernandez Vila that claimed Congratulations was the real winner, and there had been foul play from Francoist Spain. Richard made a meal of this in the press, saying he really wasn’t bothered as his song was better and more famous anyway, but maybe there should be a proper investigation, you know, just in case. Nothing ever came of it.

And so we say goodbye to Cliff Richard once more, as it would be another 11 years before he ruled the singles chart again. He may not have eclipsed Elvis or the Beatles, but he would outlast both. The music world would change several times over before we get round to August 1979 and We Don’t Talk Anymore.

While Congratulations held court at the top of the charts, opinion polls revealed on 11 April showed the problems with the pound had caused a dramatic slump in Labour’s popularity, with Edward Heath’s Conservatives racing ahead with more than 20 points difference. It wasn’t all plain sailing for the Tories though, as 20 April was the date of Enoch Powell’s infamous Rivers of Blood speech on immigration. His harsh rhetoric, full of foreboding on the dangers of immigration, was latched onto by racists and the Far Right. He was dismissed from the Shadow Cabinet a day later. Powell had been a popular figure in the Party, and remained so, but many believe his career suffered as a result of his speech, despite the fact many polls at the time suggested the public agreed with him. Years later, Labour’s left-wing leader in the 1980s, Michael Foot, expressed sympathy for Powell, suggesting it was ‘tragic’ that such a colourful figure had been somewhat misconstrued due to his colourful quote (pardon the pun).

Also in the news… 23 April saw the introduction of the new five and 10 pence coins in the run-up to Decimalisation.

Written by: Bill Martin & Phil Coulter

Producer: Norrie Paramor

Weeks at number 1: 2 (10-23 April)

Births:

Actress Amanda Mealing – 22 April 
Actor Ricky Groves – 23 April

 

247. The Beatles – Lady Madonna (1968)

17848.jpeg

April Fool’s Day 1968 saw the formation of Thames Valley Police due to the amalgamation of Berkshire Constabulary, Buckingham Constabulary, Oxford City Police, Oxford Constabulary and Reading Borough Police. Six days later, Scottish Formula One driver Jim Clark shocked the racing world when he was killed in an accident in Hockenheim, West Germany. Still considered one of the greatest drivers in F1, Clark was only 32 when he died.

The Beatles were at number 1 for the 15th time with the back-to-basics sound of Lady Madonna. Still smarting from the poor reception of the Magical Mystery Tour film, which went over the heads of the average television viewer on Boxing Day 1967, the Fab Four began 1968 by filming their cameo appearance at the end of the animated movie Yellow Submarine, released six months later.

Despite the relative failure of Magical Mystery Tour, they were still ruling the charts with Hello, Goodbye when Paul McCartney first unveiled Lady Madonna to some friends he had visited with girlfriend Jane Asher around Christmas time. As usual, the Beatles were ahead of the curve by perhaps sensing that psychedelia could soon be in danger of becoming predictable. Now even the Rolling Stones were ripping off Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Why not replace studio trickery with a blast from the past?

Lady Madonna was McCartney returning to the boogie-woogie rock’n’roll of his youth. The piano lick was inspired (I’d say stolen) from jazzman Humphrey Lyttelton’s Bad Penny Blues. The single, released on Parlophone in 1956, had been the first jazz song to reach the UK top 20, and was produced by Joe Meek. Playing around with his voice, McCartney also found his new song reminiscent of Fats Domino, and so he would make his voice deeper and bluesier by way of tribute. There was a further link back to 1956 here – Domino had a hit in 1956 with a version of Blue Monday (not the New Order classic), in which he sang of the plight of the working man, taking it a day at a time.

McCartney chose a similar lyrical approach, only he chose to do it from a working class, possibly single, mother’s perspective. John Lennon helped out with the lyrics, but it was mainly all McCartney, who years later said the title of the song was inspired by a photograph he saw in National Geographic of a woman breastfeeding, entitled ‘Mountain Madonna’. One lyric however, is unmistakably Lennon – ‘See how they run’ was lifted from I Am the Walrus. The Beatles were going through a phase of referencing earlier songs in newer material, something which would help inspire the ‘Paul Is Dead’ conspiracy. A clever way of using your back catalogue, or a sign of the creative well beginning to dry? Possibly a bit of both.

With little in the way of new material, The Beatles decided they needed to release a single as a stop-gap in the spring, while they attended a Trancendental Meditation course with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in Rishikesh, India. Lady Madonna’s only competition at the time was Lennon’s whistful Across the Universe. This beautiful version would eventually surface with animal noises overdubbed in December 1969 on the World Wildlife Fund’s compilation No One’s Gonna Change Our World. Often Lennon would put up a fight for his own material to be the A-side, but this time he knew Lady Madonna was a stronger commercial track, even though he felt it didn’t really go anywhere, and he even relented from taking the B-side, giving George Harrison the slot for the first time with the mystic The Inner Light.

The single was completed fast, with John, Paul, George and Ringo finishing up in just two sessions on 3 and 6 February. At the first session McCartney laid down the piano, with advice from producer George Martin on how to replicate the Bad Penny Blues sound, and Starr accompanied him on snare drum, playing with brushes. Lennon and Harrison then added identical distorted guitar riffs. Then, McCartney overdubbed his bass, with Starr on full drumkit, plus McCartney recorded his vocal and Lennon and Harrison joined him on backing vocals. Studio experimentation hadn’t been completely abandoned – for the instrumental break, they decided to impersonate the Mills Brothers, who would replicate brass instruments with their voices, and simply blew into their cupped hands.

The second session was organised at short notice after the Beatles realised they needed something extra. They quickly assembled a four-piece horn section, which included famous jazz musician and club owner Ronnie Scott on tenor saxophone. So hastily arranged was the session, the band neglected to tell the horn section what to play, which explains why Scott’s solo in the break sounds so pissed off.

Lady Madonna is unlikely to rank as anyone’s favourite Beatles single, but it does have vim and vigour. Starr is in fine fettle, laying down a simple but effectively thunderous beat. Lennon had a point in saying it didn’t really go anywhere, and the lyrics seem rather tossed off, and even, when McCartney sings ‘Did you think that money was heaven sent?’, rather patronising. Perhaps it wasn’t the point McCartney was trying to make, as he sounds sympathetic on the whole, but there is an element of ‘will this do?’ again about the lyrics. Whether that’s because Lennon was still too high to be bothered to contribute much and/or rein in Macca’s excesses, or it’s a sign that they were starting to care less about the band, we’ll never know.

Luckily, McCartney still had a bloody good ear for a melody, and Lady Madonna is very easy to enjoy when you hear it. But how often do you deliberately choose to listen to it? I’m not sure I ever have.

Two promos were filmed for Lady Madonna, with Tony Bramwell joining them at Abbey Road on 11 February to record them miming to the track. There was a change of plan though, and instead they were filmed while they recorded Lennon’s bluesy rocker Hey Bulldog, which ended up on the Yellow Submarine soundtrack.

Despite the relative lack of care given to Lady Madonna, their final single for Parlophone quickly climbed to the top within a few weeks of its release in March. However, it didn’t go to number 1 in the US, signalling that perhaps their influence was declining somewhat. Or maybe not – once again, the Beatles were at the forefront of popular culture, and other high-profile acts like the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley all deciding a return to their musical roots was the way forward.

Written by: John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Producer: George Martin

Weeks at number 1: 2 (27 March-9 April)

Births:

Cricketer Nasser Hussain – 28 March
Television presenter Jenny Powell – 8 April

Deaths:

Scottish race car driver Jim Clark – 7 April 

246. Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich – The Legend of Xanadu (1968)

6804-dave-dee-co-cs

Somewhat lost almong the crowd of well-remembered 1960s groups, Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich were, despite their silly name, one very popular outfit, with many top ten hits in the latter half of the decade. After three years of hits they finally reached number 1 on 20 March with The Legend of Xanadu, knocking Cinderella Rockefeller from the top, which must have been a relief to anyone with any sense.

The quintet formed in 1961 in Salisbury, Wiltshire from the ashes of Ronnie Blonde and the Beatnicks. David John Harman had been a policeman after leaving school, and was the first on the scene in April 1960 when Eddie Cochran was killed in a car crash (see Three Steps to Heaven). Cochran’s Gretsch guitar was impounded at his police station, and he started learning to play guitar on it over several nights. He had been friends with bassist Trevor Davies, and rhythm guitarist John Dymond and lead guitarist Ian Amey since school. Harman teamed up with them in the Beatnicks and when Blonde missed a gig, he filled in on vocals. Eventually he took over permanently and the group became Dave Dee & the Bostons. By this time Michael Wilson had become their drummer and the line-up was complete.

Struggling to make ends meet, they began performing in Hamburg at the same clubs as the Beatles, and lengthy (sometimes 12-hour) sets turned the boys into a tight unit, playing rock’n’roll with intricate four-part harmonies. In 1964 they returned to England and took on a summer season at Butlins in Clacton-on-Sea. One night they supported the Honeycombs in Swindon. The Honeycombs had just been at number 1 with the proto-punk Have I the Right?, written by Ken Howard and Alan Blaikley and produced by Joe Meek. Howard and Blaikley managed the Honeycombs and Blaikley watched the support act that night. Suitably impressed, he and Howard took them under their wing and arranged a session with Meek.

It was they that changed the group’s name. They wanted their new group to stand out from all the other beat groups storming the charts, and so decided to simply name them after each member’s nickname. Harman was already Dave Dee. Davies became Dozy (apparently because he once ate the wrapper of a chocolate bar instead of the chocolate, after throwing the bar away…), Dymond was Beaky, Wilson was Mick and Amey became Tich.

The band clashed with Meek and his unusual recording techniques, and the sessions ended with the volatile producer throwing coffee all over his studio and storming off to his room. Although dejected, they soon signed with Fontana Records, and Howard and Blaikely chose to continue to write their material.

It was a slow start, with their initial two singles failing to chart, but third 7-inch You Make It Move reached number 26, and then Hold Tight!, from their eponymous debut album in 1966, climbed all the way to number four. Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich were now pop stars, and later that year, they narrowly missed out on the top spot with their most memorable hit, Bend It! ( they were very fond of exclamation marks in their song titles). Racy for its time, its notoriety helped it sell extremely well, but it couldn’t stop Jim Reeves’ Distant Drums and stalled at number two.

It wasn’t just their name that made Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich unique among the throng. They were, dare I say it, rather zany, and took the pop game less seriously then many of their peers. Want an example? The name of their second album in 1966 was If Music Be the Food of Love… Then Prepare for Indigestion.

Their fame continued, and not just in the UK. Over the years they scored three number 1s in New Zealand, and were also big in Canada and Australia. 1967 wasn’t quite as successful a year, but third album What’s in a Name and singles Okay! and Zabadak! reached the upper echelons of the charts.

And then came The Legend of Xanadu in 1968. At the time there was a fashion for bubblegum, eccentric songs (you’ve only got to look in the Archive to glance at the number 1s so far in this year), and the timing was right.

The Legend of Xanadu is regarded as rather a lost classic these days, but I was a little disappointed. It could be due to the misleading title, which led me to expect a psychedelic pop tune. And no, it’s got nothing to do with Xanadu by Olivia Newton-John and Electric Light Orchestra either. It’s actually a novelty western love song, featuring flamenco guitar, the sound of a whip cracking and a brass refrain reminiscent of the theme from The Magnificent Seven (1960). Dave Dee and co play it straight however, and there’s even a spoken word section near the end. I do admire the energy in the production and performance (recorded in half an hour apparently), but it didn’t leave too much of an impression on me.

Later that year they released fourth album If No One Sang, which featured their number 1 single. Their last 7-inch in 1968 was the ambitious The Wreck of the Antoinette, where the band aped the Beach Boys singing about a sunken vessel and Dozy recited Shakespeare in the intro. However, they were starting to feel like their sound was becoming too complex and that they were merely a vehicle for Howard and Blaiklely’s wild ideas and producer Steve Rowland’s glossy experiments.

By 1969 Dave Dee felt like the public were tiring of the quintet, and he was right, as their chart positions became steadily lower. That summer he chose to go solo. The rest of the band continued, under the less unweildy but also less memorable name D,B,M and T. They never reached the heights they had scaled in the 60s and split in 1972. Dee went on to become a producer, reuniting with his bandmates in 1974 and 1983.

They reformed the original line-up for the last time in the 90s. By then, Dee was also a Justice of the Peace. Sadly he was diagnosed with prostrate cancer in 2001, and succumbed in 2009 aged 67. In 2014 Tich retired and the band carried on, confusingly with new members assuming the nicknames of past members, with names like Mick III, making them sound like royalty. Dozy died in 2015 after a short illness, leaving Beaky, who had returned in 2013, as sole surviving member.

Written by: Ken Howard & Alan Blaikley

Producer: Steve Rowland

Weeks at number 1: 1 (20-26 March)

Births:

Footballer Paul Merson – 20 March
Actor Jaye Davidson – 21 March
Blur singer Damon Albarn – 23 March
Cricketer Mike Atherton – 23 March
Chess player Chris Ward – 26 March 

245. Esther and Abi Ofarim – Cinderella Rockefeller (1968)

image-1284203-galleryV9-zgtn-1284203.jpg

Spring began with the introduction of the Commonwealth Immigrants Act 1968 on 1 March. Reducing the right of entry for immigrants from the British Commonwealth to the UK, I’m sure it will have made Enoch Powell a happy man. The following day, coal mining in the Black Country, which had played a big part in the Industrial Revolution, came to an end after some 300 years with the closure of Baggeridge Colliery near Sedgley.

Ten days later on 12 March, Mauritius gained independence from British rule, and three days later the Foreign Secretary George Brown resigned from his post. One of the most colourful Labour MPs of the decade, Brown had a big drink problem, and following his resignation, Private Eye coined the phrase ‘tired and emotional’ to hint at his alcoholism. 17 March saw a demonstration in Grosvenor Square, London against the Vietnam War. The protest became violent, leading to 91 police injured and 200 demonstrators arrested.

What was the soundtrack to these tense times in? Surely something like Street Fighting Man by the Rolling Stones? No, it was this weird little one-hit wonder – Cinderella Rockefeller, by Israeli husband-and-wife Esther and Abi Ofarim.

Esther Zaied was born in Safed in 1941 to a Syrian Jewish family. She was performing as a child, and loved singing Hebrew and international folk songs. In 1958, she met musician and dancer Abi. Born Abraham Reichstadt in what is now Israel in 1937, he was also a precocious talent, attending ballet school at 12 and owner of his own dance studio at 18. The duo married in either 1958 or 1961 depending on where you look, and were performing as Esther and Abi Ofarim from 1959 onwards. At the same time, Esther would perform solo and won the Song Festival in Tel Aviv in 1961.

Two years later she entered Eurovision, representing Switzerland with the French song T’en vas pas. As the competition drew to a close, Esther looked to be the winner, but due to a last-minute change in the scores from Norway, she lost out to Denmark.

After this disappointment, their career as a duo went from strength to strength in Germany. They had their first hit in 1966 with Noch einen Tanz, and the following year their biggest hit in that country, Morning of My Life, which was written by Barry Gibb as In the Morning, which the Bee Gees had recorded before moving to the UK.

Later that year they recorded Cinderella Rockefella. This bizarre novelty song had been written by US Grammy award-winning classical guitarist Mason Williams and folk singer Nancy Ames, known in America at the time for being a regular on their version of That Was the Week That Was. Together they had written the theme to The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour.

What fresh hell is this? Cinderella Rockefella comes across as a demented version of I Got You Babe, set to the theme of sitcom Steptoe and Son. I was aware of the tune beforehand but assumed it was sung by, I don’t know, perhaps a pair of old comics or actors. So it came as a shock to see it was actually a young Israeli married couple who resembled models. It is, as far as I’m aware, the only song by Israelis to reach the top, and it’s the first to feature yodelling since the days of Frank Ifield in 1963.

I do normally love the more unusual, eccentric side of pop, and I don’t actually mind the rickety 20s-30s-tinged Cinderella Rockefella to begin with. But after 30 seconds or so Esther’s shrill yodel in particular becomes a little bit like some kind of torture, and Abi’s almost as awful in his smugness. The lyrics are awful. And yet, you will end up with that mad bastard of a tune in your head for some time afterwards. So there you go, proof that the late 60s may have been a great time for music, but the charts were still prone to irritatingly catchy weird stuff at times.

Apparently Cinderella Rockefeller was the final song played on Radio Caroline. What an awful way to go out. Williams recorded his own version of the duet he co-wrote later in 1968 with Jennifer Warren. Warren was later very well known for duets, too – as Jennifer Warnes, she recorded Up Where We Belong with Joe Cocker, and (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life with Bill Medley, for An Officer and a Gentleman (1982) and Dirty Dancing (1987) respectively.

As for Esther and Abi Ofarim, well, they recorded the promo you can see above, in which they parade the streets of London, one glammed up and one in top hat and tails. Their song topped the charts elsewhere too, and they toured the world in 1969. However, they divorced in Germany in 1970, and inevitably the musical partnership was over too.

After going their separate ways, Esther ended up performing on the late Scott Walker’s 1970 album ‘Til the Band Comes In (their manager, Ady Semel was also Walker’s, and he wrote lyrics for the album). Semel even talked up the idea of the duo becoming more permanent, but nothing came of it. She recorded an eponymous solo album of folk songs with orchestral arrangements in 1972. Since then, she has disappeared into obscurity, but there are videos out there if a beaming Esther performing in Hamburg in 2017.

Abi continued in music too, but developed alcohol and drug problems. He also became a manager through his company PROM, and, somewhat bizarrely, managed one of the greatest groups of all time, Can, before he was sacked in the early 70s. He mounted legal challenges but they ended badly for him. In 1979 he was arrested for posession of drugs and suspected tax evasion and sentenced to a year on probation. Abi documented his issues in his autobiography Der Preis der wilden Jahre (The Price of the Wild Years) in 1982.

In 2009 he released his first album in 27 years, Too Much of Something, with his long flowing locks on the cover, he looked rather like Iggy Pop with a tan. Five years later he began running Jugendzentrum für Senioren (Youth Center for Elderly People) in Munich to help lonely old people. Abi Ofarim died in May 2018, aged 80.

Written by: Mason Williams & Nancy Ames

Producers: Abi Ofarim & Chaim Semel

Weeks at number 1: 3 (28 February-19 March)

Births:

Actor Daniel Craig – 2 March
Actress Patsy Kensit – 4 March
Politician Theresa Villiers – 5 March
Politician Paul Marsden – 18 March 

244. Manfred Mann – Mighty Quinn (1968).

ManfredMannDaveBerry.jpg

Valentine’s Day, 1967, and Northampton, the county town of Northamptonshire, is designated as a New town. Prime Minister Harold Wilson hoped it would double in size and population by the year 1980. Ten days later, the scientific world was staggered by the announcement that the year before, astronomer Jocelyn Bell Burnell and Antony Hewish at the University of Cambridge had discovered a pulsar for the first time. Two days after that, fire broke out at Shrewsbury Mental Hospital, killing 21 patients.

Manfred Mann were at number 1 that fortnight, for the third and final time, with their best chart-topper, Mighty Quinn. The group’s line-up had changed since Pretty Flamingo in 1966 – Paul Jones had been keen to go solo for some time, and was finally replaced that July with former Band of Angels member and Jones lookalike Mike d’Abo. Bassist Jack Bruce had only been with the band briefly before leaving to form influential rock trio Cream with Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker. His replacement was Klaus Voorman, who was close friends with the Beatles from their Hamburg days, and designer of the memorable sleeve of Revolver.

Around this time they left EMI to sign with Fontana Records, and their cover of Bob Dylan’s Just like a Woman made the top ten. As they moved further away from their jazz and R’n’B roots with new album As Is, their singles continued to do very well, with Semi-Detached, Suburban Mr James and Ha Ha Said the Clown both reaching the top five. The latter was their first release of 1967, but despite the early psychedelia of Pretty Flamingo, the year before, they failed to capitalise on the burgeoning hippy movement as they spent much of the time working on their soundtrack album to British film Up the Junction and Mighty Garvey, which turned out to be their final album.

Among the material was Mighty Quinn, another Bob Dylan cover. Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn) was originally a ragged folk-rock number recorded during the sessions with the Band that became known as The Basement Tapes – despite never making it to that album. It would be three years before a version by the song’s author would be released. However Manfred Mann got hold of the song that December, and correctly saw hit potential in the bizarre tale of Quinn the Eskimo, and decided to add suitably psychedelic colour to the bare bones Dylan presented.

Plenty of Dylan’s songs were lyrically obscure in this period, but this throwaway contained some of his most impenetrable words. It is believed to have been inspired by actor Anthony Quinn’s role as an eskimo in 1960 drama The Savage Innocents. Dylan has dismissed it as nothing more than a nursery rhyme, and there’s certainly a flavour of Yellow Submarine in there. Such was Dylan’s power back then, songs he tossed to one side could be made into number 1 singles by the right groups.

It’s fair to say the lyrics don’t really mean anything, and it would be tricky to create a story from them, but we can say that Quinn is some kind of saviour figure – ‘Everybody’s in despair, every girl and boy/But when Quinn the eskimo gets here, everybody’s gonna jump for joy’. The final verse suggests the influence of drugs, as ‘Nobody can get no sleep, there’s someone on everyone’s toes/But when Quinn the eskimo gets here, everybody’s gonna wanna doze’. Is Quinn a drug dealer? Hard to say, but one thing I do know is my favourite line is ‘But jumping queues and making haste/Just ain’t my cup of meat’. The idea of Dylan sitting down for a nice cup of roast chicken really tickles me.

Analyse the lyrics all you like, but the reason Mighty Quinn was a number 1 was the killer chorus. It’s a real earworm, and Voorman’s rendtion of the main hook on a flute adds emphasis and a kooky charm. The stuttering drums from drummer Mike Hugg are also very effective. It’s very much a product of its time, but this psychedelic bubblegum pop can’t help raise a smile.

The video above features the band performing on the steps of a large country house, deliberately crap dancing and some nice far-out camera work.

Despite Mighty Quinn begin a resounding success on these shores and in the US, some members of Manfred Mann were growing increasingly disillusioned with how far they had strayed from their roots. D’Abo probably wasn’t among them, as he wrote Handbags and Gladrags for Chris Farlowe and co-wrote Build Me Up Buttercup for the Foundations that same year. After two more top ten singles in 1968 (My Name Is Jack and Fox on the Run) and one in 1969 (Ragamuffin Man), Manfred Mann split up.

Manfred Mann and Hugg were writing advertising jingles together already, and when their band split they formed experimental jazz rockers Manfred Mann Chapter Three as a reaction to the pop they had been churning out. They split in 1971, and Mann formed a new group under his name, which turned into Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, best known these days for their cover of Bruce Springsteen’s Blinded by the Light, a top ten hit in 1977. They also released an inferior version of Mighty Quinn, so Mann must have been rather fond of that last number 1.

Guitarist Tom McGuinness formed McGuinness Flint with Hughie Flint, who had a Christmas number two in 1970 with When I’m Dead and Gone. Voorman was rumoured to be McCartney’s replacement on bass in a post-Beatles group. Although it never happened, he did work with Lennon, Harrison and Starr separately, most notably becoming a member of the Plastic Ono Band. He had a cameo in the ill-received live-action Popeye in 1980, and became the producer of German band Trio, who had a hit over here with Da Da Da in 1982.

Manfred Mann briefly reformed in 1983 to celebrate the Marquee Club’s 25th anniversary. Minus Mann, who had set to work with his Earth Band again, they got together again in 1991 for McGuinness’s 50th, and decided to carry on as the Manfreds. Featuring both vocalists, this group continue to this day.

Due to the sheer volume of great acts in the 60s, Manfred Mann are rarely mentioned as up there with the legends, but nonetheless they were an interesting, unique act. Too jazzy to stay a pop group, too pop to be true to their R’n’B roots, they perhaps deserve further investigation.

Written by: Bob Dylan

Producer: Mike Hurst

Weeks at number 1: 2 (14-27 February)

Births:

Comic-book writer Warren Ellis – 16 February 

Deaths

Actor-manager Sir Donald Wolfit – 17 February
Director Anthony Asquith – 20 February