122. Eden Kane – Well I Ask You (1961)

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Eden Kane’s time at the top of the charts came swiftly, and ended almost as quickly. Kane was born Richard Graham Sarstedt in March 1940. His family lived in New Delhi, India, and two of his younger brothers, Peter and Clive, would also become musicians. Peter even reached number 1 too, in 1969, with the ballad Where Do You Go To (My Lovely)?, and Clive had a number 3 hit in 1976 with a cover of My Resistance is Low, under the name Robin Sarstedt. The family moved to Kurseong to run a tea plantation, but when his father dies, Richard, his mother, brother and three sisters moved to the UK, settling in Norbury in Croydon. He became a big Bill Haley fan, and he and his brothers started a group called the Fabulous 5.

The next step towards fame came when Richard won a talent contest at Kings Road in Chelsea. The prize wasn’t very rock’n’roll – it was the chance to record an advertising jingle for Cadbury’s Drinking Chocolate. The song, Hot Chocolate Crazy, is a funny little ditty now, but it got him noticed due to plenty of airplay on Radio Luxembourg and it became the B-side of his first single, You Make Love So Well, on Pye Records. Sarstedt was a handsome man, so his looks would appeal to girls, but what about his name? His new management team, Philip Waddilove and Michael Barclay, christened him Eden Kane. The forename was due to the fashion for biblical names at the time, ie Adam Faith, and the surname came from Barclay’s love of the film Citizen Kane (1941). Kane moved to Decca, and his first single for them, Well I Ask You, had been written by Les Vandyke, a pseudonym for Johnny Worth, who had written both of Adam Faith’s number 1s, What Do You Want? and Poor Me. Overseeing production was Bunny Lewis, who had worked on three number 1s – David Whitfield’s Answer Me, Cara Mia, by Whitfield and Mantovani, and Only Sixteen by Craig Douglas.

Kane’s number 1 is your average slice of early 60s pop, and you can easily imagine it being sang by Faith, or Anthony Newley. It would also be at home as the TV theme to a cheeky sitcom. I can picture Sid James or Paul Shane winking at the camera when I hear the bawdy-sounding main hook. The cheeriness belies the fact Kane is mightily pissed off at this girl, who has treated him like crap and now expects to get him back. I’m not sure about the way Kane sings ‘Well I ask ya’, but at least he isn’t doing a Buddy Holly impression. I haven’t heard the follow-up single, Get Lost, but I really hope that it’s his answer to his relationship conundrum.

Kane’s next few singles all performed well, but his last hit came in 1964 during the height of the beat boom. He appeared on television shows with new acts like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, but he saw the writing on the wall, and following a stint with his own TV show in Australia, he moved to California and became a producer. In 1972 the Sarstedt Brothers released an album, Worlds Apart Together, but it didn’t set the world alight the same way some of their solo singles had. Weirdly, in the 90s he became contracted to play several small parts in the various Star Trek spin-offs, – Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: Voyager, and was credited as Richard Starstedt. These days he occasionally pops up on the nostalgia circuit alongside other stars of the era.

The drummer on Well I Ask You was Clem Cattini, who was a member of Johnny Kidd & the Pirates when they hit number 1 with Shakin’ All Over. Cattini’s name will be popping up many more times in this blog, as the session drummer holds the record for most appearances on UK number 1s – at least 42, some sources say more. The list of his best-selling appearances is simply staggering – an eclectic mix of artists including the Tornados, the Walker Brothers, Thunderclap Newman, Ken Dodd, T Rex, Benny Hill and Hot Chocolate, and his number 1s date right up to the (Is This the Way to ) Amarillo, the 2005 Comic Relief single by Tony Christie featuring Peter Kay. He was also considered by Jimmy Page as a possible drummer for Led Zeppelin. This man surely deserves some kind of award?

Written by: Les Vandyke

Producer: Bunny Lewis

Weeks at number 1: 1 (3-9 August)

Births:

Comedian Brian Conley – 7 August

121. The Everly Brothers – Temptation (1961)

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25 July saw the release of one of the more famous British movies of the decade. Whistle Down the Wind, set in Lancashire and based on the 1959 book by Mary Hayley Bell, starred Hayley Mills and Alan Bates, and was produced by Richard Attenborough. During the same week, the Everly Brothers went to number 1 for the fourth and final time, with their cover of Temptation. This was an old song, written by Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed, who had also written Singing in the Rain. Temptation had first been used in the 1933 film Going Hollywood, where it had been performed by superstar crooner Bing Crosby.

The production of the song caused some problems for Don and Phil, as their producer Wesley Rose was unhappy at them choosing to record a song that hadn’t been published by Acuff-Rose, meaning he wouldn’t get royalties. However, Don had dreamt the version he had in mind for the brothers, and insisted they go ahead. Therefore after its production, Rose blocked the Everlys from releasing any song from his team of writers, including Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, who were responsible for many of their hits. Bizarrely, it also barred them from recording self-composed material, as the Everlys were also contracted to Acuff-Rose!

Don was definitely right to push ahead with Temptation, and it’s a shame he didn’t get more creative control, as both this and Cathy’s Clown were in a sense his tracks, and are the best number 1 singles the duo made. However, it’s Rose’s name on the production credits, so it’s difficult to know how much rein he was given. Nonetheless, whoever is responsible, there’s a real sense of the envelope being pushed here, and the reverb-heavy sound is probably the best production I’ve heard in a number 1 single up to this point. The backing vocals rage against the song, sounding unearthly and intense, creating a great dramatic feel. There’s no way out here, and the song’s protagonist is doomed to be led along by the woman in question. As always the harmonies from the brothers are great, but both this and the aforementioned track have made me see that there was more to the Everly Brothers than just great voices.

Rose’s ban on songwriters, plus a stint in the Marines later in 1961, deeply affected the Everly Brothers’ momentum. By the time the dispute with Acuff-Rose had ended in 1964, the world had changed, and the Beatles, who the Everlys had influenced so much, were the new kings. Plus, Don and Phil had become addicted to amphetamines, and Don was eventually hospitalised due to a nervous breakdown. They still had hits, but not to the same extent. They recorded an album in 1966 with the Hollies, Two Yanks in England (wonder how long it took them to come up with that title?) as their backing band, but returned to their country roots by the close of the decade.As the 70s dawned, Don released a solo album, and tensions came to a head in 1973. They announced their final show together at Knotts Berry Farm, but couldn’t even make it through to the end. Phil smashed his guitar and left the stage, leaving Don to finish alone.

For ten years the brothers pursued solo careers to mixed success. On 23 September 1983 they reunited for a concert at the Royal Albert Hall, and no instruments were destroyed. They recorded a new album, EB ’84, and a song from superfan Paul McCartney, On the Wings of a Nightingale, returned them to the charts. Simon & Garfunkel, who had been heavily influenced by the brothers (their harmonies are also sublime, they recorded a version of Bye Bye Love, and they often hate each other) invited them to be their special guests on their Old Friends tour in 2003.

Sadly, weak lungs were an Everly family trait – their father had died of black lung disease, and Phil had stopped smoking in 2001, but the damage he had inflicted on his lungs was permanent. Phil Everly died of lung disease on 3 January 2014, aged 74. Don later admitted that they had become estranged again in the last few years, with their political beliefs causing a rift, but despite the feuding, he was devastated and unable to come to terms with his younger brother’s death. In 2016, he admitted he would wish a good morning to some of Phil’s ashes that he kept in his home, every day.

The Everly Brothers were trailblazers. Their pioneering work in the studio influenced many great acts, and they were one of the first acts to be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They were also the first in a long line of warring family members in music, with the Davies brothers of the Kinks and Gallaghers in Oasis, among others, keeping up the tradition in later years. But no matter the tensions within the family, when they sang together they created magic.

Written by: Nacio Herb Brown & Arthur Freed

Producer: Wesley Rose

Weeks at number 1: 2 (20 July-2 August)

120. Del Shannon – Runaway (1961)

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The often cool, cloudy summer of 1961 saw Barclays become the first bank in Britain with an in-house computing centre. The ‘No. 1 Computing Centre’ opened on 4 July in Drummond Street, London. The ‘white heat’ of technology was a few years away, but it was a start. Four days later, the Wimbledon women’s final was an all-British affair, and Angela Mortimer defeated Christine Truman.

At number 1 for a three-week period at that point, Del Shannon’s Runaway remains one of the most memorable rock’n’roll and pop songs of the early-60s. Key elements of the track, namely Shannon’s tortured falsetto and the sound of Max Crook’s Musitron, became very influential, which makes the singer-songwriter’s mental issues and eventual suicide all the more tragic.

Del Shannon was born Charles Weedon Westover in Grand Rapids, Michigan, in December 1934. Like many other future rock’n’rollers, he grew up playing the guitar and ukelele, and enjoyed country and western music by artists like Hank Williams. He entered the army in 1954, where he joined his first band, the Cool Flames. Upon his return to Michigan, he became a carpet salesman and truck driver for a furniture factory, and became rhythm guitarist in the Moonlight Ramblers, before replacing singer Doug DeMott, who was fired for drunken behaviour, in 1958. Westover changed his name to Charlie Johnson and renamed the group the Big Little Show Band. In 1959 the groups line-up was bolstered by the addition of keyboardist Max Crook. The keyboard wizard had been working on his own instrument, a primitive synthesiser he dubbed the Musitron. Crook had built this by modifying an old clavioline, adding television tubes, a reel-to-reel tape machine and parts from various household appliances. The group signed to Bigtop Records, but Johnson was urged to make another name change. ‘Del’ came from his favourite car, the Cadillac Coup de Ville, and he stole his surname from local wrestler Mark Shannon.

The origins of Runaway are unclear. Del Shannon once claimed it came about fairly instantly during a jam session on stage, but another version of events tells of unhappy initial recording sessions that resulted in Shannon and Crook being told to remake an earlier track known as Little Runaway, and to give the Musitron a place to shine during the new version.

Runaway starts off like any other rock’n’roll song, but the lyrics go deeper. Shannon’s sadness seems genuine, and his later reported problems suggest he was a tortured soul all his life, rather than one of the stereotypical handsome, clean-cut teen stars of the time. When he hits the falsetto on the chorus (Shannon claimed inspiration from Jimmy Jones, who had hit number 1 with Good Timin’ a year previous), he sounds genuinely pained, but it also adds energy to the song. And then when the Musitron takes over the instrumental break, we’re in uncharted territory. It may sound somewhat weedy now, but there’s an eeriness to it that resonates, as well as a sprightliness. A strange combination, but it’s definitely the highlight, and producers like Joe Meek were listening intently.

Del Shannon had a few more hits, usually containing the same bitter, melancholy lyrics, such as So Long, Baby. In 1963 he became the first American to cover the Beatles, when his version of their first UK number 1, From Me to You, charted before the original in the States. His fame started to slide, so he dipped his toes into other genres, releasing an album of Hank Williams covers, and he worked with Rolling Stones producer Andrew Loog Oldham on a psychedelic album, Home and Away, which Oldham wanted to become known as the UK’s answer to Pet Sounds, but it didn’t see a release in full until 1978. It does feature a pretty good, strung-out update of this track, in which Shannon sings in a lower register, but the problem with Runaway 67 for me is it doesn’t go far out enough, and where’s the Musitron solo? The 1968 follow-up, The Further Adventures of Charles Westover, was critically-acclaimed, but sold poorly. Alcoholism took its toll during the 70s, but he did work with Tom Petty, and in the 80s he re-recorded Runaway yet again, this time as the theme to the successful TV series Crime Story.

The nostalgia for 50s culture in the 80s did Shannon some good, but not enough, and perhaps he wanted to be considered a contemporary artist, not remembered as a singer from the past who was known for that one big hit.He began taking Prozac for depression, but it was not enough to save him from his personal demons. On 3 February, he performed at a memorial concert for Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson, and five days later, he committed suicide with a gunshot wound from his rifle. He was 55. It seems that Shannon may have seen his career as unfulfilled, but Runaway is still considered an exceptional rock’n’roll track, and his falsetto was a big influence on Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees. It’s a tragedy that he felt life hadn’t been kind enough to him.

Written by: Del Shannon & Max Crook

Producers: Harry Balk & Irving Micahnik

Weeks at number 1: 3 (29 June-19 July)

Births:

Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales – 1 July 
Welsh TV presenter Gareth Jones – 5 July 
Comedian Jeremy Hardy – 17 July 

119. Elvis Presley with the Jordanaires – Surrender (1961)

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On 8 June, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent (Queen Elizabeth II’s first cousin) married Katharine Worsley at York Minster. Six days later, the Conservative government unveiled plans for a new signal-operated ‘panda’ crossing system to make the roads safer for pedestrians. The system was first introduced in April 1962, outside London’s Waterloo railway station.

During this time, Elvis Presley was back at number 1 yet again for a lengthy stint, with another European-flavoured single based on an earlier song. Surrender was based on Italian ballad Torna a Surriento, by Giambattista and Ernesto de Curtis. An English language version, called Come Back to Sorrento, had been recorded by Frank Sinatra, as well as Dean Martin, but Presley wanted a more uptempo feel, and asked for something new from his publisher, Freddy Bienstock. Bienstock gave the task to Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman, whose A Mess of Blues had made it onto the B-side of Elvis’s massive 1960 number 1, It’s Now or Never. They had also recently had a hit when the Drifters recorded their track, Save the Last Dance for Me.

Although they both shared credit for Surrender, Shuman wanted nothing to do with it, according to Pomus’s biographer Alex Halberstadt. Apparently, Shuman said ‘Why should I want to write for some redneck idiot who wants to sound like Mario Lanza? You write it Doc, you’ve already got the music.’ Pretty cutting! Pomus found it easy enough and sent off a demo to Bienstock. Elvis then recorded the track with his usual group on 30 October 1960, in the middle of a marathon session that produced his first gospel LP, His Hand in Mine.

Surrender isn’t one of Elvis’s best number 1s, but at least isn’t the previous one, Wooden Heart. It’s an average-at-best song, but as is often the case, Presley’s voice is the highlight and lifts the material. One thing these blogs have taught me is just how versatile and powerful his singing was. Whether he tried his hand at gospel, rock’n’roll or crooning, he could do it all. Surrender doesn’t even clock in at two minutes and is easy to forget. At this point, you can see why John Lennon claimed Elvis died when he joined the army. Despite the quality of the song though, it was another of Elvis’s highest-selling songs, and Pomus and Shuman would work with him again.

As Surrender‘s month at the top drew to an end, Michael Ramsey became the 100th Archbishop of Canterbury, on 27 June, succeeding Geoffrey Fisher, who had held the position since 1945.

Written by: Doc Pomus, Mort Shuman & Ernesto De Curtis

Producer: Steve Sholes

Weeks at number 1: 4 (1-28 June)

Births:

Trade union leader Bob Crow – 13 June
Singer Boy George – 14 June 
Comedian Ricky Gervais – 25 June 
Comedian Meera Syal – 27 June

Deaths:

Welsh poet Huw Menai – 28 June

118. The Temperance Seven with vocal refrain by Mr Paul McDowell – You’re Driving Me Crazy (1961)

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The 1961 number 1s really were all over the place, and this is as sure a sign as any. The Temperance Seven were a group of young men performing jazz covers from the 1920s and 30s, and their cover of You’re Driving Me Crazy was an affectionate look back to an earlier period in recorded music – indeed, the era in which vinyl recordings first became popular. They were retro before the term existed (I think).

The Temperance Seven were founded at Christmas in 1955 by students at the Chelsea School of Art. Its three founder members were Paul McDowell on trombone, Phillip Harrison on banjo and drummer Brian Innes. Eventually they expanded to a nine-piece, and their name was suggested to them by Douggie Gray from the Alberts, an influential comedy group of the era. Why the number seven, when there were nine of them? It’s an ironic use of the word ‘temperance’ which my tired brain doesn’t really get right now. In 1960 they recorded with Goons comedian Peter Sellers, and their producer was George Martin. Martin had joined EMI in 1950, and took over the Parlophone imprint five years later. It was regarded as relatively unimportant back then, and was mostly used for classical, novelty and comedy recordings. Martin’s work with Sellers became well-known, and more and more comedians began working with him, so the Temperance Seven seemed a natural act for Martin to produce.

You’re Driving Me Crazy had been written by Walter Donaldson in 1930. The song became a hit for several acts, including Lee Morse. It also featured in the racy Betty Boop cartoon, Silly Scandals, the following year. While singing the song, Boop’s dress kept falling down, to reveal a lacy bra and make her squeal. Shocking stuff at the time. Like many of Donaldson’s songs, this track became a standard, and was later recorded by Frank Sinatra, Mel Tormé and Peggy Lee, to name but a few. Donaldson also wrote Makin’ Whoopee, My Baby Just Cares For Me, and Yes Sir, That’s My Baby.

I’ve been a huge fan of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band for decades, and have seen the Temperance Seven name-checked many times in relation to them, so I had high hopes for You’re Driving Me Crazy, but was left rather disappointed. There’s none of the anarchic spirit of the Bonzos here, it just seems a very straight and stiff run-through of a Donaldson song that isn’t as good as any of the ones I’ve listed above. McDowell’s vocal doesn’t have the character that dear old Vivian Stanshall had. I now understand why some Bonzo band members would be annoyed by the Temperance Seven comparison – it’s quite lazy really. The intro and the end go on far too long too, though that is entirely in keeping with most recordings of the 20s and 30s. Having said that, I like Martin’s production just before the final vocal kicks in, in which the instruments create this kind-of circular sound (my apologies, I’m not great with proper musical terms).

Nonetheless, for a time the Temperance Seven were big, with Paul McDowell having to quit his role in the Experimental Theatre Club revue. He was replaced by future Monty Python’s Flying Circus member Terry Jones. Later in the summer of 61 they appeared at the London Palladium for a fortnight run as top of the bill. It was never going to last, though, and the original incarnation disbanded in the mid-60s, just as the Bonzos were starting to make a name for themselves with riotous performances at the Bull’s Head in Barnes. Chris Hook took charge of the band when they reformed in the 80s, and this incarnation still tours today. McDowell went on to star in Porridge as Mr Collinson, and died aged 84 in 2016. And producer George Martin? Well, his name is going to crop up a fair few more times, obviously.

Written by: Walter Donaldson

Producer: George Martin

Weeks at number 1: 1 (25-31 May)

Births:

Comedian Harry Enfield – 30 May 

117. Floyd Cramer – On the Rebound (1961)

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Number 1 for a week in May, On the Rebound saw a much-demanded session musician step out into the spotlight and become a star in his own right. Pianist Floyd Cramer was one of the key architects of the ‘Nashville sound’, a sophisticated version of country music that had originated in the mid-1950s.

Cramer had been born in Shreveport, Louisiana in October 1933. He grew up in the small town of Huttig, Arkansas, where he taught himself to play the piano after his parents bought him one for his fifth birthday. After graduating, he returned to Louisiana and found work at radio station KWKH, where he began backing honky tonk stars and even toured with Hank Williams. Despite making his name as a session musician, he actually recorded his first solo single, Dancin’ Diane, in 1953. Two years later, he found himself touring with an up-and-coming singer named Elvis Presley. 1955 proved an important year for Cramer, as he finally moved to Nashville at the instigation of one of the Nashville sound’s figureheads, songwriter and producer Chet Atkins. Over the next few years, Cramer, along with Atkins, Owen Bradley, Harold Bradley, Fred Carter and the Jordanaires, worked with some of American music’s most influential stars, including UK number 1 artists Elvis, Roy Orbison and the Everly Brothers.

Key to Cramer’s success was the ‘slip note’ style of playing he developed, in which he would often hit out-of-key notes before sliding into the right one, which created a kind of slurring sound that fitted perfectly with the country music he was working on. Cramer first used ‘slip note’ at a session for Hank Locklin’s Please Help Me, I’m Falling, when Atkins asked Cramer to copy Don Robertson’s playing on the demo. However, it was Cramer that ran with this style and made it his own. In 1960 he had a hit with the memorable instrumental Last Date, which peaked at number two on the Billboard Hot 100. Ironically, he was kept from the top spot by Presley’s Are You Lonesome Tonight?, on which he had also played. Last Date was later covered by REM, among others. A year later, the self-penned title track of his new album On the Rebound, also narrowly missed out on topping the US charts, but it did the business in the UK.

I was surprised just how much I enjoyed this track. I was half expecting something along the lines of Russ Conway’s number 1s, Side Saddle and Roulette, but On the Rebound really is a cut above. With instrumentals, you either need a really good central riff, or enough elements to keep the listener interested, and this track does both. It’s laden with hooks, punchy, and sounds pretty modern, thanks to Atkins’ production, with Cramer’s skills impressing over stirring string stabs. There’s been a lot of disappointing number 1s so far in 1961. This is one of the better ones.

Floyd Cramer continued to release his own work alongside session performances, often covering the hits of the time. From 1965 to 1974 he annually recorded an album of the year’s hits, titled The Class of… As a fan of the Monkees, I wouldn’t mind hearing Floyd Cramer Plays the Monkees, from 1967, or maybe Floyd Cramer and the Keyboard Kick Band from ten years later, in which Cramer played eight different keyboards. His final chart hit was his own version of the theme to US soap opera Dallas in 1980. Cramer died of lung cancer on New Year’s Eve 1997, aged 64.

Written by: Floyd Cramer

Producer: Chet Atkins

Weeks at number 1: 1 (18-24 May)

116. The Marcels – Blue Moon (1961)

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Following on from their league title victory, Tottenham Hotspur became the first English football team of the 20th century (and only the third in history), to win the double, after a 2-0 victory over Leicester City in the FA Cup Final on 6 May. Two days later, George Blake was sentenced to 42 years in prison. He had been found guilty of being a double agent for the Soviet Union.

The number 1 single at the time was this fast-paced doo-wop version of the classic ballad Blue Moon. Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart began writing it in 1933 for the movie Hollywood Party, starring Jean Harlow. The main lyrics were:

‘Oh Lord, if you’re not busy up there,
I ask for help with a prayer,
So please don’t give me the air ‘

However, the song didn’t get finished. A year later, Hart rewrote the lyrics to create a track for the Manhattan Melodrama. It was now called It’s Just That Kind of Play, and the words were changed to:

‘Act One:
You gulp your coffee and run,
Into the subway you crowd,
Don’t breathe, it isn’t allowed.’

This time, the song was cut from the film, but MGM asked Rodgers and Hart for a song to be used in a nightclub scene. Hart rewrote the lyrics again and renamed it The Bad in Every Man. This time the lyrics had been changed to:

‘Oh, Lord…
I could be good to a lover,
But then I always discover,
The bad in ev’ry man’

Guess what? MGM still weren’t happy, and although they could see there was a great tune there, the lyrics weren’t full of hit-making potential. They asked for some more romantic words and a new title, and a (surely exasperated) Hart came up with:

‘Blue moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own’

Finally, they had completed Blue Moon. Artists including Mel Tormé recorded versions, but it was Elvis Presley that first brought it to the attention of rock’n’rollers. His 1954 recording made it onto his eponymous debut album, released two years later.

Fast forward to 1961, and the Marcels were struggling to finish their debut album. The mixed-race doo-wop group, named after the then-popular marcel wave hairstyle, had formed in 1959, consisting of lead singer Cornelius Harp, Richard Knauss, Fred Johnson, Gene Bricker and Ron Mundy. The Marcels were not a high priority for their label, Colpix Records, and producer Stu Phillips was told not to waste much time on them. However, one night he sneaked the group into the studio after everyone else had left. They recorded three songs and had time for one more, and one band member said they knew Blue Moon. Phillips told them they had an hour to learn it, and the song was hurriedly recorded in only two takes.

Anyone who bought this version expecting a re-run of the original must have got quite a shock when Fred Johnson’s famous ‘bomp-baba-bomp-ba-bomp-ba-bomp-bomp… vedanga-dang-dang-vadinga-dong-ding’ rang out and bounced straight into a comparatively raucous run-through of the track. To many people, this intro is the best bit of the song, and one of most famous intros in doo-wop and rock’n’roll history, but originally Johnson’s vocal came from their cover of Zoom by the Cadillacs. A shrewd Phillips decided to lift it and stick it at the start of Blue Moon to give it some oomph, and it proved to be an inspired decision. Not that this blog should purely be about the intro, mind – the whole track is fun, and a much-needed antidote to some of the tracks I’ve sat through of late. It stayed respectful to the original, yet at the same time, shook things up enough to make it appeal to both young and old.

Blue Moon was huge in the US and UK, and allegedly famous DJ Murray the K (later to try and lay claim to the title ‘the fifth Beatle’ during the British Invasion) played it 26 times in a single show. The Marcels were unable to sustain this success, although a cover of Heartaches did okay. Unfortunately, the group’s white members, Knauss and Bricker, left due to racial problems when they toured the Deep South. Members came and went, and although the original group reformed briefly in 1973, the band splintered into various incarnations. Cornelius Harp died in June 2013, aged 73, and Ron Mundy died in 2017, aged 76.

This doo-wop classic has popped up in many places over the years, but perhaps the most famous appearance is over the end credits of An American Werewolf in London (1981), with versions by Bobby Vinton and Sam Cooke appearing earlier in the comedy horror.

Written by: Richard Rodgers & Lorenz Hart

Producer: Stu Phillips

Weeks at number 1: 2 (4-17 May)

Births:

Bucks Fizz singer Jay Aston – 4 May
Actress Janet McTeer – 8 May
The Cult guitarist Billy Duffy – 12 May
Actor Tim Roth – 14 May