
Every UK Number 1 has made it to a national newspaper! So chuffed to have my feature on Christmas number ones in the Boxing Day edition of The Daily Mirror!
Every UK Number 1 has made it to a national newspaper! So chuffed to have my feature on Christmas number ones in the Boxing Day edition of The Daily Mirror!
Three months since her first number 1, Anyone Who Had a Heart, Cilla Black was at number 1 again, with You’re My World. This ballad was an English language version of the Italian Il Mio Mondo, written by Umberto Bindi and Gino Paoli. The original was not a hit, but George Martin saw enough in it to commission it as Black’s follow-up.
The new title and lyrics came from Carl Sigman, who specialised in rewriting lyrics and turning them into UK hits, several of which – Answer Me, It’s All in the Game and The Day the Rains Came – went to number 1.
I think I made my feelings towards Cilla fairly clear in my last blog on her, while at the same time being pretty complimentary about Anyone Who Had a Heart. I couldn’t deny the quality of the song and considered Black’s performance stronger than the Dionne Warwick original. However, You’re My World (Il Mio Mondo) is inferior, and shows up Black’s weakness as a singer. Although this actually worked in her favour last time around, my ears weren’t so keen this time.
Black starts low, which is manageable, but at about a minute into the track, her voice explodes into what sounds like a impression of a caricature of her voice – the kind you’d get on Spitting Image in the 80s. Lyrically, You’re My World (Il Mio Mondo) is nothing to write home about – not compared to a Bacharach and David song, anyway. It’s your average overblown love song in which the singer bigs up her lover to be some sort of godlike figure. As average as it is, it’s saved by an epic George Martin production, which builds from stabbing strings at the beginning (which do suggest Cilla may be some sort of deranged obsessed lover/murderer) into full-blown orchestral loveliness courtesy of Johnny Pearson and female vocal trio The Breakaways. Her future husband and manager, Bobby Willis, also sang on the recording.
You’re My World (Il Mio Mondo) helped firmly establish Cilla as the country’s biggest female singing superstar, and it was a huge hit in several countries. However, despite the fact she had many other smashes in the UK, and is the country’s biggest-selling female solo artist of the decade, it was her final number 1.
She divided opinion even then. In 1965 Randy Newman called her version of I’ve Been Wrong Before the best cover anyone had ever performed of his material. The same year, when her version of You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin was beaten to the top by The Righteous Brothers’ cover, The Rolling Stones’ manager Andrew Loog Oldham took out an advert in Melody Maker to deride Cilla’s performance.
Nonetheless the hits continued, including, among others, her theme song to the film Alfie, written by Bacharach and David. By the end of 1966 she had begun making inroads into television, with her own TV special and an appearance on Peter Cook and Dudley Moore’s Not Only But Also. Epstein had arranged for Black to star in her own series for the BBC shortly before his death in August 1967. Relations had become somewhat strained, with Black feeling Epstein had stopped giving her career the attention it needed. Bobby Willis took over as her manager, and her career improved in 1968 with the number eight hit Step Inside Love, written by Paul McCartney as the theme to her series Cilla.
Other than Cilla, and some attempts at comedy (seeing her attempts at being funny on TV when growing up, I can imagine these were pretty bad), the 70s were relatively quiet for Black. Bill Cotton asked her to consider becoming Bruce Forsyth’s replacement on The Generation Game in 1978, but Black declined and Larry Grayson got the job. She may have subsequently regretted doing so, as the early 80s saw her reduced to cabaret shows.
However, an appearance on Wogan in 1983 went down so well, she found herself in demand once more. Many of the generation that had grown up buying her music were now parents and in need of Saturday night entertainment in front of the box. It’s the Cilla that presented Surprise Surprise from 1984 and Blind Date from 1985 that I grew up with. Ironically, when Blind Date was in development, camp comedian Duncan Norvelle presented a pilot in 1985, but John Birt had reservations about Norvelle’s humour. He clearly wasn’t as open-minded as Bill Cotton in 1978 when Larry Grayson took on The Generation Game.
I was an avid TV viewer as a child, and would watch anything put in front of me, but despite enjoying both shows, I was firmly on my dad’s side in being irritated by her catchphrases and singing, even as a six-year-old. But the fans outweighed the critics and Black became a national treasure and the highest-paid female performer on British television. My mum even appeared in the audience on Surprise Surprise once, and my cousin also featured and won on Blind Date. My main memory of that is of us visiting her house shortly afterwards and discovering her parents had a parrot that liked swearing.
By the turn of the century, both long-running shows were struggling with viewing figures, and Cilla left London Weekend Television. She appeared on many panel shows and had a cameo in ITV comedy Benidorm. 2013 saw ITV celebrate her 50 years in showbiz with a one-off special, The One and Only Cilla Black, hosted by fellow scouser Paul O’Grady. In 2014, Sheridan Smith starred as the singer in the well-received three-part ITV drama Cilla, focusing on her relationship with Willis, who had died in 1999.
In 2014 Black stated she wanted to die when she reached 75, as she couldn’t stand to suffer into old age like her mother did. She was already suffering with rheumatoid arthritis, and her eyesight was failing. She was 72 when she fell and died of a stroke at her holiday home near Estepona, Spain on 1 August 2015.
Her funeral was a star-studded affair, with Cliff Richard singing at the service and a eulogy from O’Grady. As her coffin left the church, the Beatles song The Long and Winding Road was played. Paul McCartney, who had been instrumental in bringing the girl-next-door-turned-national-treasure to the public eye, believed Cilla’s 1972 version of his song was the definitive one.
Written by: Umberto Bindi & Gino Paoli/Carl Sigman (English lyrics)
Producer: George Martin
Weeks at number 1: 4 (28 May-24 June)
Births:
Actress Kathy Burke – 13 June
Meanwhile…
16 June: Keith Bennett had turned 12 only four days before he went missing. He was on his way to his grandmother’s house in Longsight, Manchester when Myra Hindley pulled over in her Mini and asked Bennett for help with loading some boxes, in return for a lift home. Her friend Ian Brady was sat in the back when he got in. They drove to a lay-by on Saddleworth Moor, where Bennett walked off with Brady. The following day, yet another missing persons investigation for a child opened in Manchester.
Elvis’s chart fortunes had been falling in the US for a while, but now the same thing was happening in the UK. In 1960 and 1961 he’d scored four number 1s per year alone, but following his 1962 Christmas number 1, Return to Sender, he’d been unusually absent from the pole position. This may have been in part due to a rare lack of released singles, granted, but he was clearly not the force he had been. Some of his top songwriters had left his camp due to money issues, which was also having a knock-on effect.
(You’re the) Devil in Disguise had been written by one of his most prolific remaining teams, Bill Giant, Bernie Baum and Florence Kaye, who were behind many of the songs in his musicals. It was due to appear on a new album, but RCA chose to issue the material as singles and bonus tracks instead. The usual backing band were in place, as were The Jordanaires, plus Millie Kirkham joining them on backing vocals. Jordanaire bass singer Ray Walker was the man behind the deep ‘oh yes you are’ as the song fades out.
As patchy as Elvis’s songs had become, there’s a lot to like about this one. The switch between sweet and soulful and uptempo rock’n’roll may be an obvious trick, but it works, and of course Elvis has the vocal skills to pull both directions off. The clean, classy production also makes a nice change from the earthy Merseybeat number 1s of late, which is ironic considering how I’ve been longing for Elvis to make way for exactly that. (You’re the) Devil in Disguise is a fine song, and like Return to Sender, one of his better early 60s tunes.
However, Elvis’s 14th UK number 1 spent a mere week at the top – the shortest stint he’d ever had. Not only that, it was his last number 1 for nearly two years, and his 15th, Crying in the Chapel, was an old recording, meaning his next ‘new’ number 1 wouldn’t happen until 1970.
In a true ‘changing of the guard’ moment, when (You’re the) Devil in Disguise featured on Juke Box Jury, John Lennon was one of the guest reviewers. He voted it a ‘miss’ and compared Elvis to Bing Crosby. One of Lennon’s heroes was now nothing more than a corny old has-been to him.
Written by: Bill Giant, Bernie Baum & Florence Kaye
Producer: Steve Sholes
Weeks at number 1: 1 (1-7 August)
Births:
Reform Judaism rabbi Laura Janner-Klausner – 1 August
Singer Tasmin Archer – 3 August
Disc jockey Gary King – 4 August
Here we are, then. The final number 1 single of the 1950s, and it shows how far the decade had progressed musically since that first number 1 by Al Martino in 1952. More so than I would have guessed before starting this blog, in fact. When I wrote about this song for Every Christmas Number 1 I saw it as ‘clever and cocky’ and a sign of rock’n’roll’s cultural impact after Elvis’s arrival. At the time, I didn’t know the song in question dates back much further than Here in My Heart.
What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? (is this still the UK number 1 with the longest title?) was written back in 1916 by Joseph McCarthy, Howard Johnson and James V Monaco. McCarthy and Monaco were responsible for You Made Me Love You, and Johnson had come up with the words for I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream. Their new composition became a hit duet for two of the most popular singers of the early 20th century, Ada Jones and Billy Murray, during World War One. It took a man who was fascinated with sound to make What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? feel so contemporary.
Emile Ford was born Michael Emile Telford Miller on 16 October 1937 in Castries, Saint Lucia in the West Indies. His father was a politician and mother a singer and musical theatre director. He moved to London in 1954 to pursue his interest in sound reproduction technology, and studied at Paddington Technical College in London, learning to play guitar, piano, violin, bass guitar and drums, among other instruments.
He grew interested in rock’n’roll and became a performer at the age of 20, shortening his name to Emile Ford, and garnered appearances on music TV shows Six-Five Special and Oh Boy!. In 1959 he formed Emile Ford and The Checkmates with guitarist Ken Street and half-brothers George Sweetnam-Ford on bass and Dave Sweetnam-Ford on saxophone.
The band took the unusual move of turning down EMI because they refused to let them self-produce, unlike Pye Records, who they signed with. Their first single was to be a cover of the country song Don’t Tell Me Your Troubles, with a doo-wop version of What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? quickly knocked off in half an hour at the end of a recording session. Airplay was so in favour of the latter that it was promoted to the A-side.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zvt63ucglj4
For a man with a reputation for his obsession with sound engineering, it’s ironic that his only number 1 was made almost as an afterthought, with little manipulation. It only adds to its charm though, and the swaggering doo-wop arrangement makes it one of the catchier number 1s of the decade, let alone year. Ford’s vocal is suitably raw and powerful too.
What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? rocketed up the charts, and initially shared the top spot with Adam Faith’s bizarrely-similarly-titled What Do You Want? for a week, before taking over and becoming the 1959 Christmas number 1. It remained there for six weeks, ruling the charts for most of the first month of the 60s.
Ford became the first Black British artist to sell a million copies of one single. The band made the top 20 several times more, and they were voted Best New Act of 1960 by the New Musical Express. They became augmented by female backing singers known as The Fordettes for a while, before they left to work with Joe Brown.
In 1960, Ford used his success as a way to continue an idea he had been working on. The band became the first group to use a backing track system at times for their hugely popular stage show, so you could argue that Ford invented karaoke, in a sense. Whether he did or not, this invention certainly changed live music forever, eventually. Their live sets were also known for their punchy sound, thanks to the band insisting on using their own PA system. It’s interesting to note that Ford, like Jimi Hendrix, had synaesthesia, a condition where a person can see certain colours in relation to the sound they are hearing. He believed this condition was a huge factor in his obsession with sound.
The band split in 1963 as The Beatles became huge (at one point the Fab Four had supported them), and Ford set up a recording studio with his father in Barbados in 1969, before moving to Sweden.
In the 70s he worked on his open-air playback system for live shows, which he dubbed the Liveoteque Sound Frequency Feedback Injection System. This equipment was later used by artists as huge as Pink Floyd and Michael Jackson.
Ford died on 11 April 2016, aged 78. The song that made his name would see further chart action in 1987, when 50s-throwback Shakin’ Stevens recorded his version. Take a look at the video and try not to smile at a now-bygone age. You just don’t get videos as cheesy and cheery as this anymore. Keep an eye out for a pre-fame Vic Reeves, too.
So that’s the 50s number 1s all wrapped up. I hope you’ve enjoyed a read and a listen. Before I move on to one of the most fascinating decades in music though, I’m going to have to decide on my best and worst number 1s of the 50s. Watch this space…
Joseph McCarthy, Howard Johnson & James V Monaco
Michael Barclay
6 (18 December 1959-28 January 1960)
30 December 1959: Comedian Tracey Ullman
6 January 1960: Chef Nigella Lawson
13 January: Choreographer Matthew Bourne
18 January: Actor Mark Rylance
23 January: Racewalker Paul Blagg
7 January: Tennis player Dorothea Douglass Lambert Chambers
9 January: Children’s author Elsie J Oxenham
12 January: Author Nevil Shute
28 December 1959: Associated Rediffusion airs children’s television series Ivor the Engine for the first time.
A new British star was born when Adam Faith went to number 1 for the first time with What Do You Want?. He was to remain one of the most popular UK pop singers of the next five years, and the song also helped producer John Barry make his name.
Faith was born Terence Nelhams-Wright in Acton on 23 June 1940, under his mother’s kitchen table during an air raid. Despite his rather posh-sounding real name, he grew up in a council house in a working-class area. After leaving school he became an odd-job boy for a silk-screen printers. By 1957 he was working as a film cutter and hoping to make his way into acting.
Like so many others, he loved skiffle, and sang with and managed The Worried Men. Faith made his television debut with the group on the BBC’s Six-Five Special. Series producer Jack Good was impressed and with his help, Adam Faith was born and began recording with HMV. However, Faith got nowhere and by 1959 he was working as a film cutter once more.
Faith had got to know John Barry, leader of The John Barry Seven, when they appeared in a stage show of Six-Five Special, and suggested Faith audition for new BBC music show Drumbeat. Faith was growing in popularity and recorded for several different labels but was yet to make an impact on the charts. However, he still held ambitions to also be an actor, and after having lessons he won a part in forthcoming rock’n’roll movie Beat Girl (1960). As Barry was working so closely with Faith, the film company asked him to write the score, and there began John Barry’s long, highly-successful career in film soundtrack scores, writing the themes from Jaws and the James Bond films, among so many others.
Faith signed to EMI’s Parlophone, then primarily a label for comedy acts such as The Goons. While working on Drumbeat, he and Barry got to know singer Johnny Worth, who was a member of vocal quartet The Raindrops. Worth aspired to be a songwriter and Faith and Barry saw potential in his song What Do You Want? However, Worth was worried about his contract stipulations and so adopted the pseudonym Les Vandyke for his writing credit.
What Do You Want? is Britain’s answer to Buddy Holly’s It Doesn’t Matter Anymore. John Burgess’s production of John Barry’s pizzicato string arrangement closely matches Holly’s song, and is by far the best thing about this short but sweet slice of pop (at only 1 minute and 38 seconds long, it’s still the shortest ever UK number 1).
It introduces Faith as a cheeky cockney version of Buddy Holly, who is lovelorn and dying to know what it will take to get his girl’s love. Unfortunately Faith’s vocals are far too similar to the recently deceased singer, and although back then it seemed perfectly acceptable for British singers to mimic their US influences, today his hiccuping sounds a bit embarrassing, as does his over-the-top ‘baby’. But it’s over in a flash and the strings stay with you afterwards.
In 1959 this will have all sounded pretty impressive and probably served as an exciting signpost to where British pop might end up in the forthcoming decade. It would however prove to be short-lived.
What Do You Want? narrowly missed out on the Christmas number 1 spot. In its third and final week at the top it shared the position with Emile Ford and the Checkmates’ similarly-titled What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For?, which overtook Faith on Christmas Day.
Les Vandyke
John Burgess
3 (4 -24 December)
12 December: Fashion designer Jasper Conran
14 December: Painter Stanley Spencer
6 December: Two shipping disasters take place within days of each other in Scotland. At Duncansby Head, a severe gale causes Aberdeen trawler George Robb to run aground, killing all 12 crew members.
8 December: The lifeboat Mona capsized at Broughty Ferry, and all eight crew members were lost at sea.
Since the success of Living Doll , Cliff Richard’s band, The Drifters, had run into trouble. Unlike most backing bands at the time, they had signed a separate contract to Cliff, meaning they could release material on their own. Their first single, Feelin’ Fine, had to be withdrawn in the US when the manager of the famous soul group with the same name threatened legal action.
The second single, Jet Black, was credited to The Four Jets, but manager Norrie Paramor suggested they needed to find a name and stick to it. That July while in a pub in Ruslip, bassist Jet Harris suggested to guitarist Hank Marvin they should be called The Shadows, and thus the name of one of the most famous bands of the next few years was finally settled. Bobby Vee’s backing group were also called The Shadows, but Marvin and co didn’t know this, so tough.
Travellin’ Light, written by Sid Tepper & Roy C Bennett, became their first single with their new name. Tepper and Bennett became two of Richards’ most frequent collaborators, and they also wrote many songs for Elvis Presley, particularly for his films.
Travellin’ Light is pretty much a rewrite of Living Doll, as close as you can get to following up a number 1 with a repeat of the same formula. It’s also quite similar to Roger Miller’s 1965 number 1, King of the Road – had he been listening to this? The production is also similar to before, but this time Cliff’s voice has been treated with a strong echo effect, and there’s some welcome twangy guitar flourishes from Marvin, that could have done to be louder in the mix. Cliff is on his way to see his girl, and he’s so excited he’s taken nothing with him. He can’t even be bothered with a comb or toothbrush, the dirty beggar.
It’s an average country tune that would be better remembered if they’d at least tried to make it sound different to what had come before, but five weeks at number 1 suggests their fans were happy with more of the same.
Sid Tepper & Roy C Bennett
Norrie Paramor
5 (30 October-3 December)
2 November: Actor Peter Mullan
14 November: Actor Paul McGann
18 November: Footballer Jimmy Quinn
25 November: Liberal Democrat leader Charles Kennedy
30 November: Presenter Lorraine Kelly
2 December: Actress Gwyneth Strong
26 November: Pianist Albert Ketèlbey
30 October: Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club opened in Soho, London. One of the most renowned venues of its kind, some of the artists who later played there include Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Curtis Mayfield, Prince and Jimi Hendrix, in his final public performance.
1 November: The first section of the M1 opened, between Watford and Rugby.
17 November: Prestwick and Renfrew become the first UK airports to feature duty free shops.
It’s the 50s, you’ve had a big hit that’s resulted in you gaining a huge fan following, particularly of teenage girls who wish they could be your Dream Lover – how do you follow it up? Well, if you’re Bobby Darin, you release a swinging celebration of a serial killer. Darin’s version of Mack the Knife remains the most famous version – and there are a lot out there.
Mack the Knife was originally known as Die Moritat von Mackie Messer. It was composed by Kurt Weill, with lyrics by Bertolt Brecht, for their play Die Dreigroschenoper, known over here as The Threepenny Opera. The song was written at the last minute before it’s premiere in 1928, to introduce the killer Macheath. It was first introduced to US audiences in 1933, but it was Marc Blitzstein’s 1954 version, with less graphic lyrics to appeal to conservative America, that’s still in use today.
In 1956 the US charts were awash with versions of Mack the Knife, with the first by The Dick Hyman Trio. Jazz supremo Louis Armstrong was responsible for the first version with vocals. In addition to the female victims listed in the song, Armstrong ad-libbed a mention of Lotte Lenya, the widow of Kurt Weill, who had starred in the original production, and the then-current off-Broadway version, who was present while Armstrong recorded. This was left in Darin’s version by mistake, and most subsequent versions on account of Darin’s being considered the essential recording.
Darin fell in love with Mack the Knife while watching The Threepenny Opera in 1958, and worked the song into his live act. Fresh from the success of Dream Lover a year later, Darin was given more freedom over his sound, and his desire to move away from the teen-pop that had made him famous helped him to surprise his audience by making Mack the Knife the opening track on his next album, That’s All. This was the first time a major pop idol had tried to change tack to such an extent. However, even Darin wasn’t sure about releasing such a statement of intent as a single, and it was Atlantic Records co-founder, and Darin’s producer Ahmet Ertegun that ordered its release. As was usually the case in Ertegun’s career, he was right to do so.
Darin should never have doubted Mack the Knife‘s potential. Granted, the lyrics are easily the darkest there had ever been at number 1, even after being cleaned up for the US, but I can imagine a lot of listeners weren’t even taking notice of the words, as it’s so easy to get wrapped up in the music. Darin really is on fire here, and there’s no wonder even Frank Sinatra, who recorded his own version, believed Darin’s was the best. He sounds smooth, assured and in his element, and the band really knock it out of the park with a punchy performance. By the time you reach the end, you’re rooting for Mack to take another life. Or was that just me? This is one of the decade’s very best number 1s, in my eyes.
Mack the Knife hit the top spots in the UK and US, and later won him two Grammy Awards. He followed it with the equally memorable Beyond the Sea. He continued to experiment with genres, trying his hand at country, and still charted highly. He also acted on TV and met and fell in love with Sandra Dee (yes, that Sandra Dee) on the set of his first film, Come September (1961), in which they starred together. They married and had a son, and starred in further films, but divorced in 1967.
Around this time, Darin had become increasingly politically active. He had his first hit in two years in 1966 when he covered folk singer Tim Hardin’s If I Were a Carpenter. He befriended Robert F Kennedy, worked with him on his presidential campaign and was at the Ambassador Hotel the night he was assassinated. This, and learning of his true parentage (more here) resulted in him becoming a recluse for a year. Upon his return to public life he set up his own record label, Direction Records, releasing folk and protest music.
In the 70s Darin had remarried and had several TV shows, but his health problems began to catch up with him. Some think his drive and desire to cram so much into his life came about due to his weakened heart, which was caused by rheumatic fever when he was eight. Darin suspected he was likely to die younger than most, and unfortunately he was right.
He first had heart surgery in 1971, and had to be administered oxygen after live shows. He suffered from sepsis in 1973, which further weakened his heart, and following an operation that lasted over six hours, Darin died in recovery, on 20 December aged only 37, but he had more than left his mark.
Darin was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Songwriters Hall of Fame in the 90s, and is remembered as one of many bright young talents of rock’n’roll’s early days that went too soon. He refused to be pigeonholed and his desire to experiment proved influential.
Darin’s life was immortalised in the 2004 biopic Beyond the Sea, but unfortunately the star, director, co-writer and co-producer was Kevin Spacey, so you can expect the film to be culturally erased from history now.
Kurt Weill & Bertolt Brecht/Mark Blitzstein (English lyrics)
Ahmet Ertegun
2 (16-29 October)
16 October: Spandau Ballet guitarist Gary Kemp
20 October: Actress Niamh Cusack
Here Comes Summer is often considered one of the first tailor-made summer anthems. The problem is, in the UK at least, that it arrived late. It entered the charts in August 1959 and didn’t reach number 1 until 9 October, toppling Only Sixteen by Craig Douglas. It was written and performed by wholesome singer-songwriter Jerry Keller.
Jerry Paul Keller was born 20 June 1938 in Fort Smith, Arkansas, but the Kellers moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma when he was six. He formed The Lads of Note Quartet sometime in the 50s and was also a member of The Tulsa Boy Singers, in addition to becoming a disc jockey.
In 1956 he moved to New York determined to make it big, and recorded a series of demos for record labels. Getting nowhere, his church friend Pat Boone (who had the biggest-selling single of that year in the UK with I’ll Be Home) introduced him to Marty Mills, who became his manager. With its vivid lyrics of finishing school and enjoying a summer romance, Keller had finally found the hit he had been looking for.
Much like Bobby Darin’s Dream Lover, Here Comes Summer is the quintessential sound of 50s teen-pop to me. It’s not as good, but it’s not far off. It’s musically warm and wistful, and makes you look back to a summer that you never actually had, but feel like you did anyway. The backing vocals spoil it somewhat though, overpowering the song at times, drowning out Keller’s voice and spoiling the production.
Unfortunately Keller was the first of many artists who become so identifiable with a summer hit that they’re rarely, if ever, heard of again as a performer.
He did, however, enjoy further success as a songwriter. He wrote Almost There, a hit for Andy Williams, and The Legend of Shenandoah, recited by James Stewart in the film Shenandoah (1965). In 1966 he wrote the English lyrics for Un homme et une femme, translated as A Man and a Woman, which was covered by many artists including Ella Fitzgerald, Engelbert Humperdinck and Johnny Mathis.
In the 70s and 80s he appeared in films and was used as a vocalist in television jingles, before disappearing into obscurity, but Here Comes Summer still gets used in adverts from time to time, a charming memory of relative teenage innocence.
Jerry Keller
Richard Wolf
1 (9-15 October)
10 October: Singer Kirsty MacColl
15 October: Sarah, Duchess of York
Teenager Craig Douglas ended Living Doll‘s six weeks at pole position with this chirpy upbeat pop ditty.
Douglas was born Terence Perkins, a twin in Newport, Isle of Wight on 12 August 1941. Before he became a singer he was known as the ‘Singing Milkman’ while doing his rounds.
Winning a local talent contest at 16, he became managed by Bunny Lewis, who had co-written 1954 number 1 Cara Mia under the pseudonym Lee Lange. Perkins changed his name to Craig Douglas on Lewis’s suggestion (not the most of exciting of stage names anyone has ever come up with), and, still 16, began singing lessons for his move into professional singing.
He made his television debut on the BBC’s Six-Five Special alongside Cliff Richard and Joe Brown. He specialised in songs about teenagers, being one himself. His first single was A Teenager in Love, earlier in 1959, and second single Only Sixteen made him one of the youngest number 1 acts up to that point – he was 17 at the time. It was US soul singer-songwriter Sam Cooke’s song, but Douglas’s version eclipsed it in this country.
The most surprising aspect of this song is Douglas’s vocals. Had I not read about him beforehand, I’d have thought he was twice the age he was. He doesn’t look that young on pictures from the time either. In fact, there’s little youthful exuberance to be found here, unfortunately. It sounds leaden, safe and old-fashioned – not living up to the now risqué title. The fact the singer is only a year older than the song’s subject matter makes the record safer than originally suspected anyway. The highlight is the whistling from Mike Sammes. You’d think the singing milkman would be the whistler, but it wasn’t meant to be.
For the next few years Douglas troubled the lower reaches of the top ten, but the writing was on the wall when The Beatles started their chart domination. Now in his late-70s, he still tours internationally on the nostalgia circuit.
Sam Cooke
Bunny Lewis
4 (11 September-8 October)
7 October: Music producer Simon Cowell
21 September: Soprano Agnes Nicholls
8 October: The Conservatives won their third successive General Election, becoming the only party since World War Two to do so while increasing their majority. The election was perfect timing for Harold Macmillan’s party, due to an economic boom. Labour suffered due to Hugh Gaitskell’s claim that Labour would not raise taxes, despite their manifesto stating otherwise. It was Jo Grimond’s first election as leader of the Liberals, and the election saw future Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe and Conservative leader Margaret Thatcher enter parliament for the first time.
18 September: 47 miners died in the Auchengeich mining disaster in Lanarkshire, Scotland.
7 October: 300 people needed rescuing when fire broke out on Southend Pier.