460. Don McLean – Crying (1980)

The Intro

US singer-songwriter Don McLean’s commercial appeal in the UK had fallen after American Pie and his 1972 number one Vincent. So it’s surprising to discover he returned to the top of the pops eight years later with a cover of Roy Orbison’s classic ballad Crying.

Before

McLean had followed up the LP American Pie with his eponymous third, but there were no charting singles. In fact, only a live version of Buddy Holly’s Everyday, from fourth album Playin’ Favorites, made it to the charts for the rest of the 70s – and that only scraped in at 38 in 1973.

That same year, Killing Me Softly with His Song by Roberta Flack became a number six hit in the UK. It’s mentioned here because the song’s lyrics, credited to Norman Gimbel, were co-written by Lori Lieberman, who was inspired by witnessing a 1971 concert by McLean. 23 years later, the Fugees took Killing Me Softly to number 1 in the UK.

McLean’s fortunes weren’t helped by record label politics. After one more album for United Artists (1974’s Homeless Brother), he signed with Arista Records for four albums. However, he only recorded one – Prime Time – in 1977. 

In 1978 McLean set to work on the next. Chain Lightning saw McLean record in Nashville with noted session players and also featured Elvis Presley’s old backing group, The Jordanaires. However, he and Arista founder Clive Davis didn’t get on, and the deal broke down. McLean was left without a recording contact in the US, but the LP was released through EMI in Europe.

Considering the roll call of veteran Nashville musicians on Chain Lightning, a cover of Roy Orbison’s Crying fitted in nicely. This song had been written by the ‘Big O’ with his regular collaborator Joe Melson, and was the title track of Orbison’s third album. Amazingly, the original version only managed to reach 25 in the UK in 1961. 

Review

McLean’s version starts promising with just his acoustic strum and voice. And what a voice – it hits home here much more than on his previous UK hits what a great singer McLean is. It bodes well for a great cover of a classic break-up song. The trouble is, as impressive as McLean’s singing is, you can’t help compare it to one of the greatest singers of all time in Orbison. Few people can get that wounded heartbreak across quite like the Big O. And this version gets worse as it goes on. Had it stayed sparse, with those nice steel guitar sounds that creep in, I’d have liked Crying more.

The problem is Larry Butler’s production. Butler was a country music producer, responsible for huge hits including Kenny Rogers’ two number 1s – Lucille and Coward of the County. I’m not a fan of the dry, bland production of either of those, and this is worse. He overeggs the pudding way too much, smothering it in sickly strings and the Jordanaires wailing. It’s boring and totally ruins the sadness at the heart of Crying. Orbison’s original may sound old-fashioned in the 21st century, but it’s still more authentic than McLean’s.

The best version I’ve heard is Orbison’s duet with Canadian singer-songwriter kd lang. Originally recorded in 1987 for the film soundtrack to Hiding Out, it was released as a single four years after the Big O’s death, climbing to 13 in 1992.

I also feel I need to mention my bafflement at the sleeve for this single. Either a giant McLean is looking to the sky in terror as a plane appears to be heading for his mouth, or McLean is normal-sized and the plane is tiny. Either way… what’s that all about? I hope it’s not some kind of reference to ‘The Day the Music Died’.

Actually, no, the best version of Crying, as we all know, is from an episode of Only Fools and Horses in 1991. ‘Stage Fright‘ features Philip Pope as Tony Angelino, a club singer with a speech impairment.

After

Arriving hot on the heels of What’s Another Year and Theme from M*A*S*H (Suicide Is Painless), this was the third sad number 1 in a row during the spring/summer of 1980. McLean’s European success with Crying resulted in a US deal with Millennium Records, who released the single and its album to success in America – Crying peaked there at five in 1981. However, chart fame has mostly eluded him ever since. In 1981, a cover of Since I Don’t Have You reached 23 in the US, and a new version of his debut, Castles in the Air, scraped in at 36 later that year. You could argue that he didn’t help matters by making his releases few and far between. In the 80s he only released two LPs, and his next and to date final chart news took place thanks to a re-release of American Pie, which climbed to 12 in 1991. He continues to release albums, albeit sporadically. The last to date was Still Playin’ Favorites in 2020.

The Outro

McLean has received many plaudits over the years, including a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. His music has influenced many, including, perhaps unexpectedly, rappers. Tupac Shakur’s favourite song was Vincent and it was played to him when he was in a coma after his shooting. He’s also received songwriting credits on two songs by Drake.

Stories have surfaced in recent years of abusive and controlling behaviour towards family members. In 2016 he was arrested for domestic violence towards his then-wife Patrisha Shnier McLean, which he pled guilty to. His daughter Jackie told Rolling Stone in 2021 that he was emotionally abusive to. McLean admitted aspects of her account were true, but denied emotional abuse.

The Info

Written by: Roy Orbison & Joe Melson

Producer: Larry Butler

Weeks at number 1: 3 (21 June-11 July)

Trivia

Births

22 June: TV presenter Charlene White
23 June: Liberty X singer Jessica Taylor
29 June: Mezzo-soprano Katherine Jenkins
1 July: Actor Ricky Champ
7 July: Labour and Co-operative Party MP Jim McMahon
8 July: Author Nikesh Shukla

Deaths

21 June: Physiologist WAH Rushton
22 June: Solicitor Joseph Cohen
23 June: Scottish actor John Laurie
27 June: Scottish physicist Sir Gordon Sutherland
1 July: Novelist CP Snow
3 July: Cricketer Charles Benstead
4 July: Anthropologist Gregory Bateson
6 July: Composer Frank Cordell/Engineer Jeanie Dicks/Lawyer Sir Ralph Windham
7 July: Actor Reginald Gardiner

Meanwhile…

23 June: New company law makes insider trading in shares illegal. 

24 June: Unemployment reaches 1,600,000 and becomes the post-war record.

26 June: The Glasgow Central by-election results in a Labour hold despite a swing of 14% to the Scottish National Party.

30 June: Circulation of the pre-decimal sixpence coin is withdrawn.

1 July: Aston Martin fails to raise the funds necessary to buy MG’s Abingdon car factory – putting it under risk of closure.

8 July: Despite Prime Minster Margaret Thatcher’s pleas, miners who are threatening to strike demand a 37% payrise.

10 July: An accidental fire during maintenance destroys Alexandra Palace’s Great Hall, Banqueting Suite, Dressing Rooms and Ice Rink.

412. Elvis Presley – Way Down (1977)

The Intro

After a very successful comeback in the late 60s, Elvis suffered a slow, ignoble decline throughout the 70s. It took his demise for him to achieve his 17th UK number 1, which pointed the way to what could have been if he had returned to form once more.

Before

A live recording of The Wonder of You was Presley’s final chart-topper in his lifetime in 1970. Soon after he was the subject of documentary film and accompanying album Elvis: That’s the Way It Is. It was during this time that he first began to wear the jumpsuits that would become an emblem of his fall from grace. He also began moving away from the roots sound of his Memphis sessions to less inspirational material. Not that it had any impact on his UK sales at that point – he continued to chart in the top 10 for a few years yet. Presley ended the year meeting President Nixon. Both paranoid men at this point, ‘The King’ slated The Beatles, something that still upset Paul McCartney decades later, who felt betrayed after the band had met him back in 1965 and got on well.

In 1972 another documentary film, Elvis on Tour, won the Golden Globe for Best Documentary Film. It was to be his final cinema release before he died. The single Burning Love became his best known song of the final stretch of his career and reached seven in the UK. The same year, he and Priscilla separated. To some who knew him, it was a blow from which he never recovered.

1973 began promisingly. The TV special Aloha from Hawaii was a global smash and the accompanying album his last US number 1 in his lifetime. But his health was deteriorating dramatically. He was hospitalised twice and spent three days in a coma the first time. That October his divorce was finalised. Despite all the drama, he was committing to an ever-increasing run of live shows.

In 1974 he arrived for a concert at the University of Maryland by falling out of his limousine to his knees. Heavily drugged, he spent the first half an hour of the performance holding his mic stand like it was a post and slurred so badly, members of his band were crying. Increasingly garish in his outfits and singing to an ever-ageing generation, he became rock’n’roll’s answer to Liberace. The supercool Presley of his comeback in 1968 was a distant memory. His pop material began slipping from the charts as his waist expanded. Despite this, he did have some hit singles – Promised Land in 1974 (number nine) and My Boy in 1975 (number five).

In 1976 came Presley’s penultimate LP. From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee featured the single Hurt, an acclaimed cover which hinted at the turmoil behind the tragic, bloated man he had become. RCA had sent a recording studio to Graceland and he recorded enough material that year for one more album. Moody Blue‘s title track was a country hit in the US. But as 1977 came around, he was rapidly getting worse. Concerts were cut short, if they happened at all, and Presley slurred so badly he was intelligible at times.

Review

Despite the concern over the state of Presley, nobody knew Way Down would be the last single released in his lifetime. So that title proved rather ironic. It’s a strange beast, because the opening is really promising. It sounds as if The King was about to discover disco! The lyrics are pretty exciting too. Presley is about to get it on with someone and is likening the passion he’s feeling to a sin, so the ‘way down’ in question isn’t about him being buried but associating sex with the devil. Which is still an appropriate way for Elvis to go out considering his faith in God running parallel to his love of women. Girls in fact, if all the stories are true. Yes another musical icon, one of the biggest of all time, was allegedly a paedophile.

Way Down is ultimately a disappointing farewell thanks to how disjointed it is. The disco boogie of the verses is replaced by a boring chorus that’s rather hollow and symbolises the emptiness of the Vegas years. JD Sumner’s deep ‘Way on down’ sounds like a spoof of the backing vocals of The Jordanaires that appeared on many of Presley’s greatest work. It’s fascinating in the way it signifies where he may have headed next though. And for another clue, consider the fact Mungo Jerry’s Ray Dorset wrote disco classic It Feels Like I’m In Love with Elvis in mind. Kelly Marie took it to number 1 in 1980.

After

The same month Way Down was released, Presley was filmed at two concerts, to be made into a TV special, Elvis in Concert, broadcast after his death. He was in such bad shape it was only aired once and is unlikely to ever be officially released. On 26 June he performed for the last time, at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. On 1 April Elvis: What Happened? was published. This book, written by three fired bodyguards, was the first time his drug addictions were made public. He had offered money to the publishers to halt its release. By this point, he was suffering glaucoma, high blood pressure, liver damage and an enlarged colon, each possibly caused and definitely made worse by his drug abuse.

On 16 August, Presley was scheduled to fly out of Memphis to start another tour. That afternoon his girlfriend Ginger Alden found him lying dead on his bathroom floor. She later said it appeared he had fallen off the toilet and not moved from the spot. The official cause of death given was cardiac arrest. Over the years opinions have differed to what happened but some believe it was a phenomenon known as the Valsava manoeuvre – he basically was so constipated he suffered a heart attack while straining. What a way to go.

The world went into mourning. There had never been a pop star like Presley but he spawned millions of imitators. Two days after the death of Elvis Presley, his funeral was held at Graceland. Outside the gates a car hit a group of fans, killing two. Way Down began to climb the charts and was soon number 1, remaining there for five weeks.

The Outro

It feels like I’ve spent years writing about Elvis. I started this blog in 2017 and when I reached the year of 1957 I was so relieved. Not exactly what you’d call a hardcore fan, it gave me a new sense of understanding of the seismic shift he caused in music and pop culture. He’s come back on and off ever since, for better or worse. And he’ll be back again posthumously eventually – though not for a while.

And yet his star is fading. His fans are dying and his significance lessens with every passing year. Stories of his fondness of teenage girls not exactly helping matters. And nearly 10 years of glitzy Vegas shows while still alive have remained the archetype of the fallen hero.

But watch an early clip of him swivelling his hips to Hound Dog. Listen to him crooning Can’t Help Falling in Love. Performing That’s All Right on the comeback special Elvis. Or Suspicious Minds in 1969. When he was good he was very, very good.

The Info

Written by

Layng Martine Jr.

Producer

Felton Jarvis

Weeks at number 1

5 (3 September-7 October)

Trivia

Births

4 September: Gymnast Zita Cusack
8 September: Freestyle swimmer Gavin Meadows
12 September: Singer-songwriter James McCartney
15 September: Actor Tom Hardy

Deaths

4 September: lllustrator Lynton Lamb
6 September: Mathematician John Littlewood
14 September: Conductor Leopold Stokowski/Welsh rugby league player Jim Sullivan
16 September: T-Rex singer-songwriter Marc Bolan
25 September: Sculptor William McMillan

Meanwhile…

16 September: The UK had another star to mourn. Glam rock icon Marc Bolan of T-Rex died in a car crash in Barnes, London, two weeks before he turned 30. See here for more information.

19 September: FA Cup holders Manchester United were expelled from the European Cup Winners’ Cup after their fans rioted in France during a first round, first leg game with AS Saint-Etienne five days previous that ended as a 1-1 draw.

26 September: Entrepreneur Freddie Laker launched his budget airline Skytrain. The first single fare from Gatwick to New York City cost £59 compared to the normal price of £186.
Also on this day, UEFA reinstated Manchester United to the European Cup Winners’ Cup on appeal. But they were ordered to play their return leg against AS Saint-Etienne at least 120 miles away from their stadium at Old Trafford. 

3 October: Undertakers went on strike in London, leaving more than 800 corpses unburied.

Every 50s Number 2

The Intro

Breaking off from the 70s briefly, I noticed over Christmas 2020 that my blog on Every Christmas Number 2 was getting a lot of attention, and in the year that my first book, Every UK Number 1: The 50s was released, I decided to combine the two and give a (very) brief review of every chart runner-up from the first chart of November 1952 through to the end of the decade. Did some of these songs and artists deserve to be in my book, and are some as baffling as the singles that outsold them? As usual, I’ll pick a best and worst for each year, and then an overall pick for each to cover the 50s as a whole. Please note the songs here are singles for which number 2 was their highest position, so future and previous number 1s don’t get a look-in.

1952/53

The first years of the chart were a mix of trad pop, novelty songs and instrumentals. It gets off to a very strange start with Guy Mitchell’s Feet Up (Pat Him on the Po-Po), a typically chipper novelty hit that couldn’t be more different to the original number 1, Here in My Heart. Mitchell is paying tribute to his newborn son, saying he’s going to buy him ‘a horn, a baseball, and drum’… strange mix of gifts. I can’t pinpoint exactly where Mitchell is patting him – what is a Po-Po? I can only assume it’s his head or his arse. Mitchell, an early-50s chart mainstay, replaced himself at number 2 with the similarly upbeat Pretty Little Black Eyed Susie, in which he exclaims he loves his biscuits ‘soaked in gravy’. Truly, a different era. There’s a couple of forgettable instrumentals here – Terry’s Theme from ‘Limelight’, by Frank Chacksfield and His Orchestra, was written by Charlie Chaplin for his 1952 comedy drama, and Mantovani and His Orchestra’s Swedish Rhapsody sounds French more than anything. Frankie Laine was almost permanently in the top spot in 1953, and he’s here too, with quite a spooky-sounding country track, Where the Winds Blow.

The Best

Nat ‘King’ Cole – Pretend

I was familiar with this song due to Alvin Stardust’s 1981 cover, which was in my parents’ vinyl collection as I grew up. A classy orchestral ballad from a great singer, it’s much better than any other 1952/53 number 2, and would have been a better number 1 than Frankie Laine’s I Believe.

The Worst

Diana Decker – Poppa Piccolino

Yuck. Twee, cheesy nonsense. An Italian song, originally a satire on the divide between the rich and poor, rewritten to become cheesy fare about a wandering minstrel. Sung by a popular British/American actress of the era who starred in The Barefoot Contessa a year later.

1954

More of the same really, though a few classics start to crop up. Winifred Atwell kicks things off with one of her trademark ragtime medleys. Let’s Have a Party was so successful, it spawned a sequel, and Let’s Have Another Party became 1954’s Christmas number 1. Laine nudged her from the top spot with more western melodrama. Blowing Wild (The Ballad of Black Gold) is grandiose but not as memorable as Where the Winds Blow. More bright and breezy fare from Mitchell followed with Cloud Lucky Seven, which is rather similar to Kay Starr’s 1953 number 1 Comes-A-Long-A-Love. And then we have – of all things, Oberkirchen Children’s Choir’s The Happy Wanderer. This is a live 1953 recording by the BBC of the choir’s winning performance at the Llangollen International Musical. It’s charming to see such a song could be such a success, only nine years after the end of the Second World War. This amateur choir’s original members were war orphans, and the scene in Schindler’s List featuring this song is incorrect – The Happy Wanderer came after the war ended. Cole is back with another pop standard, and it’s the second time Chaplin gets a mention. This version of Smile was the first to feature lyrics and the song’s title, despite the tune being featured in the silent comedy legend’s 1936 film Modern Times. As always, Cole sings beautifully, and it’s perhaps the quintessential version.

The Best

Dean Martin with Dick Stabile and His Orchestra – That’s Amore

Yes, it’s cliched and dated, but it’s also one of Dean Martin’s most enduring signature songs. As always, Martin’s performance is key, and he pulls it off with bucketloads of charm. Originally written for him to perform in the comedy The Caddy from 1953, in which he sang it with comic partner Jerry Lewis. It was nominated for the Oscar for Best Original Song of that year, but lost out to Doris Day’s number 1 Secret Love.

The Worst

David Whitfield with Stanley Black and His Orchestra – Santo Natale

The only festive song on the list. David Whitfield’s operatic ballad is as painful as a real-life Christmas number 2 can be. There’s a reason you won’t find it on any Christmas compilations, it’s overwrought and sets my teeth on edge. Nice bells at the end, though. I also picked poor Whitfield as the man behind the worst Christmas number 2 with Answer Me.

1955

By this point, I was more than ready for some rock’n’roll. But although Rock Around the Clock appeared this year, all the number 2s are more of the same. Al Hibbler, a baritone with Duke Ellington’s orchestra, made a good stab at Unchained Melody – it’s certainly better than Jimmy Young’s awful rendition, a number 1 later that year. Laine is back yet again, with another western track. Cool Water is forgettable, despite being considered a standard of the genre. Mitch Miller, one of the most successful producers of the period, occasionally recorded with his orchestra, and his version of 1850s folk classic The Yellow Rose of Texas was his biggest UK hit in his own name. Unlike lots of his productions, this one is played straight. Four Aces Featuring Al Alberts had the most popular version of Love is a Many-Splendored Thing, but Bill Haley and His Comets prevented it from being the 1955 festive chart-topper. It did win the Oscar for Best Original Song though.

The Best

Frank Sinatra with Nelson Riddle and His Orchestra – Learnin’ the Blues

This isn’t up there with the best of Ol’ Blue Eyes, but it’s a pretty slick big band number in which Sinatra runs through how you know you’ve got the blues. However, it’s a pretty upbeat tune. In a poor year though, I guess this is the pick of the bunch.

The Worst

The Cyril Stapleton Orchestra with Julie Dawn – Blue Star (The ‘Medic’ Theme)

This appears to be an instrumental theme from a US medical drama called Medic, which was the first to feature actual medical procedures. But then, more than halfway in, Julie Dawn starts singing a very slushy love song. It’s very average 50s trad pop.

1956

An interesting, bumper year, with the sea change in pop becoming apparent. But not straight away. As we’ve seen, westerns were all the rage in the US and therefore the UK. The Ballad of Davy Crockett was a very successful attempt to promote the Walt Disney film Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier. There were several versions, and actor Bill Hayes did the best out of the folky theme tune. Frank Sinatra returns with (Love Is) The Tender Trap, taken from the film The Tender Trap. It was nominated for an Oscar but it’s pretty average, really. Then Zambezi by Lou Busch and His Orchestra livens things up somewhat. It’s a nice jazzy instrumental, that I’m sure I’ve heard before as background music on a comedy series. A Tear Fell by US singer Teresa Brewer slows things down massively. And then, Elvis Presley, at last! Heartbreak Hotel, his first single for RCA injects some much-needed cool to proceedings. It’s a landmark release, but there was better to come. And then, skiffle! A double A-side of traditional folk tunes, Lost John/Stewball, get The Lonnie Donegan Skiffle Group treatment. They’re much more gentle than the number 1 singles from Donegan in this decade, but still decent. Across the nation, future rock greats were taking note. Next up is a weird one. The All Star Hit Parade was a charity EP for The National Playing Fields Association, in which Dickie Valentine, Joan Regan, Winifred Atwell, Dave King, Lita Roza and David Whitfield contributed very short tracks, I’m assuming to make them all fit on one piece of vinyl. It’s mainly trad pop, and dull, but thankfully over pretty quick. Rounding things up nicely is one of number 1 crooner Frankie Vaughan’s most famous tunes. Green Door, later a number 1 for Shakin’ Stevens was, according to one urban legend, about the UK’s first lesbian club, Gateways, which had a green door.

The Best

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

A classic that’s aged better than Heartbreak Hotel and many of his future number 1s, where the rot had already set in. Rocky and raunchy, with great drum breaks. Shame The Jordanaires spoil it with their old-fashioned backing vocals.

The Worst

Tony Martin With Hugo Winterhalter’s Orchestra and Chorus – Walk Hand in Hand

The second this dull trad pop from a veteran US actor and singer ended, I’d completely forgotten what it sounded like.

1957

Rock’n’roll is now established, and there’s plenty in the upper reaches of the charts among the ballads. It’s no coincidence that this is the best selection of tracks so far. One of the best ballads of the 50s is Nat ‘King’ Cole’s When I Fall in Love. It’s another masterful performance from Cole, and it’s a shame he never made it to number 1. Elvis wannabe Pat Boone beat ‘The King’ to the top spot, but why not just listen to the real thing? Love Letters in the Sand is better than his number 1, I’ll Be Home, at least. Last Train to San Fernando, by Johnny Duncan and the Blue Grass Boys, is a very interesting mix of bluegrass, calypso and skiffle, featuring Donegan’s former guitarist Denny Wright. Elvis Presley’s Party, which I’ve never heard before, is a nice blast of the early Presley rock’n’roll sound. Another Oscar nomination, Tammy, is typical cheesy 50s teen fare, used in Debbie Reynolds’ romantic comedy Tammy and the Bachelor. I know it from the sample found in The Avalanches’ A Different Feeling and Terry Gilliam’s adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998). It’s always made me feel queasy. Did you know Jim Dale from the Carry On films was a pop star before becoming an actor? Me neither, and he makes a decent fist of copying Presley on Be My Girl, produced by George Martin. Wake Up Little Susie is perhaps the most famous song by The Everly Brothers, yet it isn’t among their number 1s. It’s aged very well thanks to those sublime harmonies from Don and Phil and quite risque lyrics. Last up is a live recording of Ma He’s Making Eyes at Me by Johnny Otis and His Orchestra with Marie Adams. Otis is considered a seminal influence on rock’roll and it’s a great performance, particularly that raucous vocal from Adams.

The Best

Harry Belafonte, Tony Scott’s Orchestra and Chorus with Millard Thomas, Guitar – The Banana Boat Song

The pick of a great bunch (sorry) of singles is that calypso classic, originally a Jamaican folk tune, sung to perfection by the future civil rights activist and 1957 Christmas number 1 artist. I will have first heard this on Beetlejuice (1988) and have loved it ever since.

The Worst

Russ Hamilton – We Will Make Love

Easy listening dross sung by one of the first Scouse stars to make a name for themselves. That’s literally the only noteworthy thing to say about this.

1958

A smaller selection, and not much rock’n’roll. It’s a strange batch, but in a good way. Tom Hark by South Africans Elias and His Zig-Zag Jive Flutes is an instrumental kwela, that’s very familiar, probably via TV. The Mudlarks version of novelty bestseller Lollipop is catchy in an irritating sort of way – nice use of echo at the start though. US popsters The Four Preps contribute Big Man, a decent track with a memorable chorus and great harmonies. Interesting premise too, as the singer has dumped his girlfriend in a moment of madness and is now full of regret.

The Best

Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – Hard-Headed Woman

Lifted from The King’s film King Creole. This was the first rock’n’roll record to go Gold. There’s some great guitar work on this 12-bar blues, and a reliably strong vocal from Elvis.

The Worst

Dean Martin with Orchestra and Chorus Conducted by Gus Levine – Return to Me

A surprisingly dull track from the normally reliable Dean Martin, who sings the last verse in Italian. It’s not bad, but in a year of weird number 2s that at least stand out, it gets lost in the mix.

1959

By now the raw danger of rock’n’roll had been mostly dampened by the teen pop sound. But there are a couple of good examples of that genre to be found. I love Little Richard. What fantastic energy, and what a voice! He can even make the 1920s song Baby Face sound hip. But there are much better tracks out there by the flamboyant personality that should have been more popular in the charts. Kim Wilde’s dad Marty was a star in the 50s, and A Teenager in Love, originally a hit for Dion, is rightly well-remembered. If Battle of New Orleans is anything to go by, Lonnie Donegan’s output had already began to deteriorate. It’s considered a country classic but it’s nothing special to my ears, and the cheesy opening is a sign of things to come from the skiffle trailblazer.

The Best

The Teddy Bears – To Know Him, is to Love Him

Before the late Phil Spector became a mad production genius, and ultimately a murderer, he was a member of this pop trio. To Know Him, is to Love Him, inspired by the words on Spector’s father’s tombstone, was a sign of the songwriting excellence to come. I particularly like the performance of the ‘Why can’t he see’ section by lead singer Annette Kleinbard. She later changed her name to Carol Connors, and co-wrote Gonna Fly Now the brilliantly uplifting theme from Rocky (1976).

The Worst

The Everly Brothers – (‘Til) I Kissed You
Somewhat disappointing, plodding pop from Don and Phil. Written by the former.

The Best 50s Number 2 Ever is…

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

Had to be, really. Elvis Presley’s 50s number 1s, bar Jailhouse Rock, don’t really do the King justice. This however, is rightly considered by many the point at which rock’n’roll truly became a revolution. This Lieber and Stoller 12-bar blues was originally recorded by Big Mama Thornton in 1952. Thornton’s version is better, but Presley also knocks it out of the park.

The Worst 50s Number 2 Ever is…

Tony Martin With Hugo Winterhalter’s Orchestra and Chorus – Walk Hand in Hand

So I listened to this again, and it made as much impression as last time. None. All I can say about it is that it’s very, very dull and we should never forget what rock’n’roll did for us to largely sweep this sort of thing away.

The Outro

I have to confess, this has proved a rather disappointing exercise on the whole! I was hoping for more rock’n’roll classics that I’d also expected to have been number 1s when i began covering them, but the runners-up largely mirror the chart-toppers – trad pop and novelties, a surge of rockn’roll and skiffle, and then teen pop. There’s no soul in there at all. Little Richard is there, but he had to cover a 1920s showtune to get a look-in. But it did at least remind me what a force of nature early Elvis was, and that Nat ‘King’ Cole was one of the greatest crooners. I know that when it comes to covering the 60s number 2s, there will be a larger volume of gems.

332. 10c.c. – Rubber Bullets (1973)

The Intro

Whether it was a satire on The Troubles or just an affectionate throwback to Jailhouse Rock, Rubber Bullets introduced us to Mancunian band 10cc, four songwriters who specialised in witty, ironic pop and rock. But the story of ‘The Worst Band In the World’ starts years earlier.

Before

Kevin Godley, Lol Creme and Graham Gouldman knew each other as children, and their first collaboration dates back to 1964, when Gouldman’s band The Whirlwinds recorded Creme’s Baby Not Like You as a B-side. This band evolved into The Mockingbirds, whose drummer was Kevin Godley.

In the summer of love of 1967, Godley and Creme recorded a one-off single as The Yellow Bellow Boom Room. Thanks to Gouldman, the duo were then signed to Marmalade Records, who hoped Godley and Creme may be the UK’s answer to Simon & Garfunkel. They recorded material as Frabjoy and Runcible Spoon, with Gouldman on bass and a guitarist called Eric Stewart.

Stewart had been lead guitarist and singer with The Mindbenders, whose biggest hit was A Groovy Kind of Love, which stalled at number two in 1966. Gouldman was briefly in the group before they disbanded in 1968. That year, Stewart became involved with Inner City Studios in Stockport. It was subsequently moved to bigger premises, and renamed Strawberry Studios, after Strawberry Fields Forever. Stewart became the co-owner.

In 1969 Gouldman, who had previously written hits including For Your Love for The Yardbirds, was in demand as a songwriter. He took up residence at Strawberry Studios and by the end of the year he was also a partner. He was writing bubblegum pop songs for Super K Productions, and would often use Stewart, Godley and Creme to perform them. All four were singers and multi-instrumentalists, and they made so many records under so many aliases, they lost count. They would even sometimes perform what were meant to be female backing vocals.

While Gouldman was working in New York, the other three had their first real success together. As Hotlegs, their single Neanderthal Man reached number two in the UK in 1970 and was a worldwide hit. It was soon followed by the 1971 album Think: School Stinks. Meanwhile, all four continued to write and perform for other bands, and after helping Neil Sedaka on two albums, they were finally spurred on to try and make a name for themselves. They became Festival, but their first single failed and Apple Records rejected their second.

Undeterred, they recorded a spoof doo-wop song, Donna. They contacted eccentric and later disgraced mogul Jonathan King, who loved it and signed them to his label UK Records. He takes claim for dubbing them 10cc after a dream in which he saw ’10cc The Best Band in the World’ on the front of the Hammersmith Odeon, but the most common explanation, confirmed by Creme and Gouldman, is that it was an above average volume of semen produced in a male ejaculation. Seedy, whichever is true.

Radio 1 DJ Tony Blackburn loved Donna, and made it his Record of the Week. It soared to number two in October 1972. However, follow-up Johnny Don’t Do It didn’t even make the Top 40. Fortunately, Rubber Bullets, went all the way. Recorded as part of their eponymous debut LP, this track is another wry throwback to 50s rock’n’roll, a sound all four musicians were very fond of returning to.

Review

10cc have always claimed Rubber Bullets was a sequel-of-sorts to Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock, told from the point of view of the authorities, intent on putting a halt to the celebrations at the local county jail. This may well be the case (and there’s also a touch of the Beach Boys, particularly in Creme’s lead vocal), but it’s impossible to not consider its connection to The Troubles, which had rarely been out of the news in 1972-73. The use of rubber bullets saw a massive increase in this period. Despite being designed to bounce off the ground and strike at about knee level, children were killed by this ammunition. 10cc were obviously clever songwriters. Godley and Creme were responsible for the majority of this track and may well have had the chorus first and perhaps decided to make it less controversial by introducing all the Americanisms. Gouldman should also get a mention for his line ‘we’ve all got balls and brains, but some’s got balls and chains’, although that was edited out of the single version.

The Outro

Not only were 10cc very smart, they were also very good at coming up with great pop songs, with years of experience between all four of them, there was no lack of expertise on hand, and Rubber Bullets was as catchy as it was clever, with a blistering guitar solo from Stewart, achieved with studio trickery. And yet, for all that’s commendable about this song (it’s apparent sympathies lie with the victims of the bullets), I can admire it rather than enjoy it, and I know I’m not the first person to say this about 10cc’s work. But their second number 1 in 1975 is another matter entirely. I’m Not in Love is one of the best of the 70s.

The Info

Written by

Lol Creme, Kevin Godley & Graham Gouldman

Producers

10cc

Weeks at number 1

1 (23-29 June)

Trivia

Births

27 June: Conservative MP Tom Tugendhat

Meanwhile…

23 June: A Hull house fire kills a six-year-old boy. It was initially thought to be an accident but it later emerged as the first of 26 fire deaths caused over the next seven years by arsonist Peter Dinsdale. One of Britain’s most prolific serial killers, Dinsdale was imprisoned for life in 1981.

297. Mungo Jerry – Baby Jump (1971)

The Intro

Everyone knows In the Summertime by jug band Mungo Jerry, but who remembers this follow-up? The raucous, rowdy Baby Jump must be one of the least-known number 1 singles of all time, and marked the end of ‘Mungo-mania’.

Before

After the huge impact of In the Summertime in the UK, their debut single began to climb the US charts, so Mungo Jerry headed over in September 1970. Upon their return, double bassist Mike Cole was sacked and replaced by John Godfrey. They hadn’t been in a rush to immediately release a second single, preferring to let In the Summertime soak up as many sales as possible.

The band decided to rework a track that was popular at their live shows, and singer-songwriter Ray Dorset came up with some new lyrics too. They recorded Baby Jump at their label Pye’s 16-track studio, but weren’t happy with the results, deciding it needed to sound more lo-fi, so they returned to the studio where they had made In the Summertime, and Barry Murray was back in charge of production. Deciding the single was too short, they chose to repeat the trick of their first single, and Murray created a fake ending, with the song starting up from the start again.

Review

Baby Jump is a real curio. If you didn’t know it, you’d think it was a different band. Perhaps even an early Tom Waits number. The light touch of their debut is replaced by raw rocking noise and Ray Dorset adopts a growling, shouting voice. The track sounds like it’s been dropped in a muddy pool of water and left for a day or two. This might make it sound exciting, and for the first minute or so, Baby Jump is just that. But it soon outstays its welcome and you’re left wanting them to wrap it up – which makes that false ending all the more annoying.

The lyrics are problematic too. Those freewheeling, likeable but misogynistic lads of In the Summertime go full-throttle on the lust levels. Dorset has the horn for a girl in a micro-mini dress and black stockings, and he promises ‘You bet your life I’ll attack’. He goes on to compare him and his dream love to Lady Chatterley and her gamekeeper, Mona Lisa and Da Vinci, and worryingly, Humbert and Lolita. Which of course, suggests the girl he wants is underage. So, nine years before The Police namechecked Lolita author Vladimir Nabokov in 1980’s best-selling single, Don’t Stand So Close to Me, Mungo Jerry got there first. But at least Sting was conflicted about his situation.

After

Baby Jump made Mungo Jerry the first British act since Gerry and the Pacemakers to have two number 1s with their first two singles, but there seems to be some confusion about whether it even did really make it to number 1, as there was a national postal strike at the time, which affected chart data. They nearly equalled Gerry and co’s feat of three in a row with Lady Rose, but a controversial B-side, Have a Whiff on Me, meant the single was withdrawn.

Mungo Jerry’s momentum never really recovered, and in 1972 Dorset was summoned to a band meeting and Colin Earl and Paul King told him they wanted him gone. Bit rich, considering Dorset did most of the work, so the management fired them instead. They went on to form The King Earl Boogie Band.

From here on in, the line-up would change over and over, but Dorset remained, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned, is Mungo Jerry. He even used the name on solo material. There were a few more hits in the 70s, including Alright, Alright, Alright and You Don’t Have to Be in the Army to Fight the War. His last top 20 single was the catchy Long Legged Woman Dressed in Black in 1974.

However, Dorset would pen another number 1. He was the man behind Kelly Marie’s excellent tacky disco smash Feels Like I’m in Love in 1980. Originally he’d written it with Elvis Presley in mind – I would have loved to have heard that.

The Outro

Three years later, Dorset joined former Fleetwood Mac guitarist and acid casualty Peter Green and Vincent Crane from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown in the group Katmandu, who released one album, A Case for the Blues, in 1985. Occasional Mungo Jerry albums have appeared since, the last being 100% Live in Baden Baden in 2018.

The Info

Written by

Ray Dorset

Producer

Barry Murray

Weeks at number 1

2 (6-19 March)

Trivia

Births

7 March: Actress Rachel Weisz

Deaths

6 March: Harpsichordist Thurston Dart
7 March:
Poet Stevie Smith

Meanwhile…

7 March: After recent protests in London, 10,000 striking workers protested in Glasgow against the Industrial Relations Bill.

8 March: The postal workers’ strike ended after 47 days.

294. Dave Edmunds – I Hear You Knocking (1970)

The Intro

As 1970 drew to a close, November’s number 1s seemed to symbolically bid farewell to the 60s. So, what next? Glam was around the corner, but in the meantime, the Christmas number 1 looked back to pop’s past, as Welsh singer-songwriter spent six weeks at the top with a cover of a 50s R’n’B tune.

Before

David William Edwards was born in Cardiff on 15 April 1944. Musically gifted as a child on the piano, at the age of 10 he formed The Edmund Bros Duo with his elder brother Geoff. They both formed The Stompers around 1957, with Dave on lead guitar and Geoff on rhythm. From there the younger Edmunds had brief stints in several groups before becoming lead singer of rockabilly trio The Raiders, who formed in 1961.

In 1966 Edmunds, following a brief spell in The Image, shifted to a blues-rock sound and formed a short-lived outfit called Human Beans, who mutated into the trio Love Sculpture. Their second single, a novelty high-speed reworking of Sabre Dance, which climbed to number five after getting the attention of DJ John Peel. After two albums Love Sculpture split in 1970.

Edmunds returned to Wales and learned how to recreate the sounds of the R’n’B and blues songs of the 50s by himself, and made plans to record a cover of blues classic Let’s Work Together by Wilbert Harrison, until he heard Canned Heat’s version. Around this time he worked with Shakin’ Stevens and the Sunsets, helping the 80s hitmaker score his first recording contract.

Fortunately, Edmunds heard Smiley Lewis’s I Hear You Knocking while driving, and noted he could use the backing track he’d already recorded for Let’s Work Together and make a cover of Lewis’s song. It was also a track he knew from Shakin’ Stevens and the Sunsets’ repertoire.

The original, written by New Orleans bandleader Dave Bartholomew (who had co-written the 1959 Elvis Presley number 1 One Night) and released by Lewis in 1955, is a straightforward slice of piano-driven 50s R’n’B, but Edmunds went full on blues-rock. He played every part on his version, using heavy compression to create an unusual, direct sound.

Review

Edmunds’ I Hear You Knocking is a quirky choice for Christmas number 1, but of course, being at the top of the charts on 25 December wasn’t an ‘event’ back then. The weird production is attention-grabbing to begin with. Most unusual of all is the vocal track, which sounds like it’s being sung down a bad phone line, or is coming out of a damaged transistor radio. I’m not sure if Edmunds was aiming for a dated 50s sound, but if so, it doesn’t quite come out like that. It gets a bit annoying after a while, whatever the intention.

The chorus is memorable, and the slide guitar is effective, and I enjoy Edmunds’ shouting out ‘Smiley Lewis!’ and other rock’n’roll star names from the 50s in the instrumental break. I can see why listeners would have enjoyed a bit of basic blues-rock for a while. Not sure how it stayed at number 1 for six weeks, though.

After

Despite the success of I Hear You Knocking, it took Edmunds two years to release his debut album, Rockpile, which was mostly a collection of more oldies. He had left it too late to capitalise. Or maybe he wasn’t bothered about doing so anyway. He spent the next few years producing rock and blues acts like Brinsley Schwarz, Foghat and The Flamin’ Groovies. However, his two singles Baby I Love You and Born to Be With You reached the top 10 in 1973.

In 1974 Edmunds had a brief role in the David Essex film Stardust, and helped with the soundtrack. A year later came his second solo LP, Subtle as a Flying Mallet. Then his friendship with Nick Lowe from Brinsley Schwarz resulted in their new group Rockpile. Due to being on different labels they were unable to record until 1980 but would guest on each other’s solo material for the next few years.

In 1979 Edmunds scored his last top 10 hit with Girls Talk, written by Elvis Costello. Rockpile only recorded one album, 1980’s Seconds of Pleasure, before splitting up due to arguments between Edmunds and Lowe. Edmunds went back to mainly producing, and worked with big names including Paul McCartney, Status Quo, Stray Cats, The Everly Brothers and kd Lang. He had a US hit with Slipping Away in 1983 though, written and produced by ELO’s Jeff Lynne.

Edmunds went into semi-retirement in the mid-80s, but he did tour with Ringo Starr & His All-Star Band in 1992 and 2000. After a couple of albums released online, he began touring in his own right again in 2007. Edmunds performed I Hear You Knocking on Jools’ Annual Hootenanny in 2008 and then Sabre Dance in 2009. His last album was On Guitar… Dave Edmunds: Rags & Classics in 2015, featuring instrumental covers. After a final show in July 2017, Edmunds retired from music.

The Outro

1970 was an interesting, eclectic year for number 1s, with several well-remembered chart-toppers. Lots were in thrall to the past, though, with the departure of The Beatles leaving the music world wondering what to do. Fortunately, T. Rex were now on the scene, having scored a number two hit with Ride a White Swan. Marc Bolan would soon have his first number 1.

The Info

Written by

Dave Bartholomew

Producer

Dave Edmunds

Weeks at number 1

6 (28 November 1970-8 January 1971) *CHRISTMAS NUMBER 1*

Trivia

Births

29 December 1970: Singer Aled Jones  
31 December:
Welsh rugby union player Louise Rickard
1 January
1971: Football referee Andre Marriner/BBC newsreader Suzanne Virdee
5 January
: TV presenter Jayne Middlemiss
7 January:
TV presenter Joanne Malin

Deaths

26 December: Olympic athlete Lillian Board(see below)
31 December
: Composer Cyril Scott

Meanwhile…

26 December: Olympian athlete Lillian Board, died in Munich, West Germany, after a three-month battle against cancer. She was 22.

31 December 1970: Although Paul McCartney had announced his departure from The Beatles earlier in 1970, it was made official when he filed a lawsuit against the other three on this day to dissolve their partnership.

1 January 1971: The Divorce Reform Act 1969 came into effect, which allowed couples to divorce after a separation of two years (five if only one agrees). This ruling resulted in a sharp rise in divorces over the next two years.

2 January: The new year got off to a shocking start for football fans when a stairway crush at Ibrox Stadium in Glasgow during a match between Rangers and Celtic killed 66 and left many more injured.

3 January: BBC Open University broadcasts began.

8 January: Uruguayan left-wing urban guerrilla group Tupamaros kidnapped Geoffrey Jackson, the British ambassador to Uruguay, in Montevideo. He was held captive until September.

289. Elvis Presley – The Wonder of You (1970)

The Intro

The Wonder of You was Elvis Presley’s 16th and final number 1 in his lifetime. In the five years since his last number 1, Crying in the Chapel (which dated back to 1960), the King’s career had reached the doldrums, before a dramatic comeback. Sadly, though, The Wonder of You marked the beginning of another descent – his last one.

Before

Presley proposed to Priscilla Beaulieu at Christmas 1966, seven years after they had first met, and they married in May 1967. Earlier that year he had released the Grammy-winning gospel album How Great Thou Art, but in October his soundtrack LP to his movie Clambake registered record low sales. The Summer of Love had just passed, flower power was everywhere, and Elvis couldn’t have been more out of fashion.

His manager Colonel Tom Parker made a deal for Presley to appear in a Christmas special on TV in December 1968. The singer was initially sceptical, and he had every reason to be, seemingly forever stuck releasing one dire film after another. However, once he got talking to the show’s director and co-producer Steve Binder, he realised this could be the chance to revitalise a failing career. He was proved right. The 68 comeback special, titled simply Elvis, featured lavish numbers, but everyone remembers the back-to-basic segments, in which he performed in tight leather in front of a small crowd (his first live performances since 1961). It was a return to the Elvis of the 50s, raw and fresh, with buckets of charisma. And he looked cool as fuck. No longer would the King be willing to do whatever he was told by Parker

Elvis kickstarted a purple patch in which the King was seemingly let off Parker’s tight rein, and he went on to record some of the best material of his career, particularly during the sessions for the 1969 album From Elvis in Memphis. The album closed with In the Ghetto, which reached number two on these shores, but was held off the top spot by Thunderclap Newman’s Something in the Air. Criminally, Suspicious Minds, probably my favourite Elvis song, also stalled at number two at the start of 1970 here, despite becoming his final US number 1.

Presley was keen to get back to regular live performances, and just when things were looking up for the new decade, Parker booked him to an initial run of 57 shows over four weeks at the new International Hotel in Las Vegas. Bill Belew, who had struck gold by coming up with the King’s leather look for his comeback, designed his first jumpsuit to wear. His initial Vegas show went down a storm, and Parker booked him a five-year run in which Presley would perform every February and August. The Jordannaires chose not to join him, and longtime collaborators guitarist Scotty Moore and drummer DJ Fontana also declined.

The Wonder of You was a live recording from one of his Vegas gigs of February 1970. It was the first live number 1 since Lonnie Donegan’s My Old Man’s a Dustman (Ballad of a Refuse Disposal Officer) in 1960. Thankfully it’s not as bad as that horror show of a song, but they are similar, in that Wonder of You represents the final slide into cabaret for a once vital, dangerous artist.

The song, written by Baker Knight, was originally a top 30 single for US singer Ray Peterson in 1959. It also became a hit for number 1 artists Ronnie Hilton, and The Platters too.

Review

Elvis turns this into an anthem in which he pays tribute to the fans that have stuck by him through thick and thin. It even mentions him by his nickname, albeit inadvertently.
‘And when you smile the world is brighter
You touch my hand and I’m a king
Your kiss to me is worth a fortune
Your love for me is everything’

It’s one big love-in really, a drunken singalong, and the King and crowd alike are all having a whale of a time. But it all feels rather hollow with the knowledge of what was to come. Elvis’s next number 1 came after his death. His Vegas residency had transformed into a bloated drug-addled, depressed, darkly-comic version of the singer here.

The Outro

Since its time at number 1, The Wonder of You has become associated with football clubs Port Vale, Arsenal and Scottish team Ross County.

The Info

Written by

Baker Knight

Weeks at number 1

6 (1 August-11 September) 

Trivia

Births

13 August: Footballer Alan Shearer
27 August
: Snooker player Peter Ebdon

Deaths

5 September: Footballer Jesse Pennington

Meanwhile…

9 August: Police battled with black rioters in Notting Hill, London.

20 August: England may have lost at the World Cup, but there was some good news for team captain Bobby Moore – he was cleared of stealing a bracelet in Colombia just before the tournament had begun.

21 August: The moderate Social Democratic and Labour Party was first established in Northern Ireland. 

26-31 August: The third Isle of Wight Festival took place, with music from Jimi Hendrix, The Who and The Doors. This was the last of the three original festivals there, and was the largest event of its kind for years, with anywhere between 500,000 and 700,000 attending.

9 September: BOAC Flight 775 was hijacked by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine after taking off from Bahrain. This was the first time a British plane had been hijacked.

154. Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – (You’re the) Devil in Disguise (1963)

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

Every Christmas Number 1

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The Intro

I’ve been blogging my reviews of all the UK number 1s in order for four months now, and have reached the end of 1957. Despite not being a fan of 50s music in general (maybe that’s a bit harsh, I should say I’m not too knowledgeable about it), I’ve found it more interesting than expected. Hopefully, some of the readers I’ve gathered are enjoying it too.

Anyway, I decided a nice addition for Christmas would be to work my way through every Christmas number 1 to date. Now, I love music, and I’m also fond of Christmas, so initially it sounds like a no-brainer. However, Christmas number 1s are a complete wild card. No matter the decade, no matter your musical taste, it would be impossible to enjoy them all. Indeed, after a first glance, I realised there are far fewer festive songs than you’d maybe expect. From children’s songs, to rock’n’roll and psychedelic classics, to total, utter dross, the Christmas number 1 offers examples of the mammoth highs and terrible lows of pop music over the last 65 years. And although sadly pop is no longer the cultural force it once was, the Christmas number 1 is still considered important. So much so, they even bring Top of the Pops back especially for it.

So, 69 songs (if a number 1 was a double A-side, I’ve included both), 4 hours and 15 minutes of seasonal chart-toppers, broken down into decisions on the best and worst of each decade, and then one overall winner. With two young children in my house, it would be impossible to take on this task in one sitting. So I decided to do it while working my day job, which today is working on, appropriately enough, the Christmas TV listings for TV Times. I think I already know which song will win out. Let’s see if I’m right…

The 50s

The 50s songs went by in a blur. This could be because I started listening at 7.30 in the morning and didn’t have enough caffeine in me, but it’s also because the charts didn’t start until 1952, and most tracks were pretty concise back then. In fact the first ever Christmas number 1 was the first ever chart-topper – Al Martino’s Here in My Heart. With pop music in its infancy, the yuletide number 1 wasn’t yet an event, and there wasn’t a festive-themed chart-topper until crooner Dickie Valentine’s Christmas Alphabet in 1955, which is a slight but charming enough number. You could perhaps argue Winifred Atwell had kicked things off the year previous, with the piano knees-up Let’s Have Another Party – it contained a snatch of When the Red Red Robin. Harry Belafonte’s Mary’s Boy Child in 1957 was the last explicitly Christmas song to reign until Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody, 16 years later.

Elvis-mania changed pop forever and rock’n’roll ruled the roost in the late 50s. For me, this is where music started to get interesting, so it’s probably no coincidence that one of my favourites of the 50s was the last – Emile Ford and the Checkmates’ clever and cocky What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? (1959), later covered by Shakin’ Stevens.

The Best:

Johnnie Ray –Just Walkin‘ in the Rain (1956): One of rock’n’roll’s pioneers, the eccentric, troubled ‘Mr Emotion’ sang this melancholic yet strangely cheery song written by two men languishing in prison. It’s not seasonal in the slightest, it’s just a great song by an influential but under-appreciated talent. One listen and you won’t be able to resist whistling the refrain. I can’t whistle, but this is one of the few times I wished I could.

The Worst:

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Frankie Laine with Paul Weston & His Orchestra – Answer Me (1953): The hardest part of blogging about many of those early number 1s was wading through the sea of near-identical overwrought ballads. The majority of them leave me cold, and despite Frankie being able to hold a note well, this did nothing for me. Hilariously, the BBC banned it at the time due to the then-shocking mention of God in the lyrics, which only increased its sales. The BBC clearly never learnt its lesson, as this wasn’t the last time this happened to a future number 1.

The 60s

Pop music evolved at a mind-blowing rate and came of age during this decade. Obviously the 60s were dominated by the best group of all time, The Beatles, and they also hold the record for most festive number 1s to date, with four in total – I Want to Hold Your Hand (1963), I Feel Fine (1964), Day Tripper/We Can Work it Out (1965) and Hello Goodbye (1967).  Never anything but a pleasure to listen to, John, Paul, George and Ringo played a large part in making this decade’s list pretty darn enjoyable. The classic Moon River, sang by Danny Williams, topped the charts in 1961, and Elvis also got a look-in, with one of his better tracks – Return to Sender, in 1962.

In the latter half of the decade, children’s records grew in popularity, and were obviously going to sell well in December, beginning the trend for novelty Christmas number 1s. The Scaffold’s Lily the Pink (1968) may be irritating but served it’s purpose, and my five-year-old seemed to love it recently. More problematic is Rolf Harris’s Two Little Boys in 1969. Finding out what a pervert Rolf Harris was, under everybody’s radar, for so long was like finding out there’s no such thing as Father Christmas, yet this tune seems somehow still strangely moving, and now sadder than ever, because he’s bloody ruined it for everyone.

The Best:

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The Beatles – Hello Goodbye (1967): It was always going to be a Beatles song. I did struggle between Day Tripper and Hello Goodbye, though. Despite the former’s killer riff, I decided to go with the latter, as I’m a sucker for most psychedelic 60s stuff. Although it’s not the Fab Four’s best example of pyschedelia, I love it’s joyous simplicity, and especially the singalong at the end, which is lie-affirming pop at its best. I also think it would make for a hilarious funeral song.

The Worst:

Cliff Richard and The Shadows – I Love You (1960): Look at that title, it’s as generic as it gets, which at least sets the scene for the song itself. Tepid, basic and very forgettable, it’s no wonder it’s been largely forgotten. Cliff of course became a festive staple in the 80s. Whatever you might think of his later yuletide tunes, you’d find it difficult to argue that they’re not better than this.

The 70s

It was in this decade that the idea of the Christmas Number 1 really became an event, beginning with Slade and Wizzard’s battle for best festive anthem in 1973. An honourable mention for fellow glam rockers Mud’s Elvis tribute Lonely This Christmas (1974) – always had a soft spot for that one. Benny Hill’s children’s song Ernie (The Fastest Milkman in the West) in 1971 was deceptively filthy – I’ve never realised just how smutty the lyrics were until today (although to be fair I probably haven’t heard it in full since I was about seven).

Several ‘classics’ also hit the top, and having long since grown bored of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody (1975), I was impressed by it for the first time in years. It’s complexity and sheer oddness really made it stand out during my mammoth listen, and I didn’t mind hearing it again once I reached the songs of the 90s (it was of course reissued following Freddie Mercury’s death in 1991). Wings’ Mull of Kintyre (the biggest single of the decade) seems to be either loved or hated – I just think it’s alright – but who remembers it was actually a double A-side, along with the long-forgotten rocker Girls School (which fared far better in the US) in 1977? Mary’s Boy’s Boy Child – Oh My Lord (1978) saw Boney M cover Belafonte’s 1957 tune, livening it up but increasing the tackiness tenfold.

I find it hilarious and brilliant that Pink Floyd’s dark disco classic Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2) was 1979’s festive bestseller. I don’t know about you, but nothing says Christmas more than a choir of children singing ‘We don’t need no education/We don’t need no thought control’ with an air of menace.

The Best:

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Slade – Merry Xmas Everybody (1973): Overfamiliarity hasn’t dimmed my love of Noddy bellowing ‘IT’S CHRRIISSSTTTMMMAAASSS!’, and although I sometimes think I prefer Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday, it was Slade that won out back then, so it was Slade I heard today, finally bringing some yuletide cheer back into my rundown, and doing it with such wit and a tune that still holds up so well. I think the fact the production doesn’t labour the festive theme, unlike some of the songs yet to come, only adds to its brilliance.

The Worst:

Jimmy Osmond – Long Haired Lover from Liverpool (1972): Jesus Christ. That’s the only thing I can say about this that’s remotely festive, but it’s not meant as a compliment. I know the Osmonds were huge back then but I fail to see how anyone ever found this remotely appealing. It’s memorable I guess, but so is a bout of diarrhoea. My ears were genuinely pained when Jimmy hit the high notes, and it seemed to go on forever.

The 80s

I was born in 1979, so it’s this decade that takes me back to Christmas as a child. One of my earliest memories is of clutching my copy of Do They Know It’s Christmas? (1984) in the playground before taking it to a school Christmas disco, aged five. A landmark moment in music, it was of course the start of charity singles gunning for the all-important top spot, and it’s a classic, but it’s controversially not even in my top two 80s number 1s. And the less said about the Stock, Aitken and Waterman-produced Band Aid II version (1989), the better. I wondered why it had been airbrushed from history and I was only 20 seconds in before realising why. It’s total crap.

The quality of the number 1s really jumped about in the 80s, particularly the first half. Special mention must go to The Human League’s electro classic Don’t You Want Me (1981). I really struggled to decide whether this was my 80s favourite, or the one that just pipped it to the post. It may not be seasonal in the slightest, but I’m not purely judging these singles on festive merit, which is why Do They Know It’s Christmas?, the highest-selling festive chart-topper of all time, isn’t the winner.

Warm memories of the reissue of Jackie Wilson’s Reet Petite in 1986, originally from 1956, were rekindled. And although it’s terrible, I found myself amused by Renée and Renato’s Save Your Love (1982), because it’s damn funny and it reminded me of the Kenny Everett spoof. Plus I think my mind might have started unravelling by this point. You can certainly argue that Cliff Richard’s Mistletoe and Wine is tacky shit, but nostalgia can really affect critical judgement, so I won’t be agreeing, sorry.

The Best:

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Pet Shop Boys – Always on My Mind (1987): I feel this may be a controversial choice due to it having nothing to do with Christmas, and the fact it kept Fairytale of New York from number 1, but I picked it because it’s bloody brilliant, and for me, this cover of the ballad made famous by Elvis gets better with age. Taking a great song, transforming it and improving upon it is no easy task, but Nick Tennant and Chris Lowe did so without any of their usual irony, simply turning it into a disco juggernaut. There’s no wonder it often finds itself in the upper reaches of lists of best cover versions of all time. Joss Ackland didn’t half used to scare me in the video, though.

The Worst:

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St Winifred’s School Choir – There’s No One Quite Like Grandma (1980): Like Pet Shop Boys, this kept a festive classic off the top, namely Jona Lewie’s excellent Stop the Cavalry. However, unlike Pet Shop Boys, it’s wretched. And did a nation coming to terms with the murder of John Lennon really pick this over reissues of his work? A perfect example of Christmas chart insanity, like Long Haired Lover from Liverpool before it, this grates big time. And yet, I’d still take it over some of the ‘serious’ work that’s yet to come…

The 90s

The Christmas number 1s of the late 80s had marked the turning point, in which the standard began to fall, with occasional exceptions. I knew this before beginning my foolhardy task, but failed to appreciate how painful the job was going to become. Cliff had his third and final appearance to date (he was part of Band Aid II) with the execrable Saviour’s Day (1990) (The pan pipes! Not the pan pipes!), in which he came up with his own, duller version of Christmas. No thanks, Cliff, we’re happy with mistletoe and wine. Queen pared up Freddie Mercury’s farewell, These Are the Days of Our Lives, with a reissue of 1975’s Bohemian Rhapsody (1991), and I was tempted to award the best of the decade to the latter, but in the end it seemed unfair to let it have two chances.

By this point in my youth I was starting to develop my own tastes, and my music snobbery had begun. I hated the seemingly eternal reign of Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You back in 1992, and it didn’t do much for me in 2017 either. I did appreciate Houston’s singing more than I used to, though. It’s the production that kills it. Mr Blobby (1993)… this track came up more than any other when I told people what I would be doing, as though this would be the ultimate form of torture. You know what? It wasn’t. I genuinely found myself laughing at it. The people behind it were sick geniuses, throwing every trick in the book to seemingly irritate and infuriate anyone who didn’t watch Noel’s House Party. In fact, after rehearing it, I genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if one day it turned out to be yet another prank by twisted geniuses The KLF. Just as insane in it’s own way was Michael Jackson’s Earth Song in 1995. Fair play to the self-proclaimed ‘King of Pop’ for trying to highlight the damage humans have done to the world, but heavily implying he was some kind of Messiah-like figure while doing so was a bit daft.

Who would have thought that East 17 would be one of the decade’s few Christmas highlights with Stay Another Day (1994)? Then and now I found the Walthamstow gang ridiculous, but I have to hand it to songwriter Tony Mortimer, Stay Another Day is a great song, especially when you know it was written about his brother, who committed suicide. Poor old troubled Brian Harvey sings it well, too. He veers out of tune at times, but that fits perfectly in the context of this song. I admire the chutzpah of tacking on bells at the end, but it’s a shame it was then adopted by seemingly every other boy band aiming for a number 1 on 25 December.

The Best:

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Spice Girls – 2 Become 1 (1996): I have an inkling this may also be a controversial choice, mainly for people who know me. Back in the day I claimed to hate the Spice Girls. I was a huge Britpop fan and I blamed them for ruining pop music by not being ‘for real’. It didn’t occur to me that many guitar-bands were running out of steam, or becoming so experimental, they were never going to maintain their followings. Now I’m nearly 40, I’m less concerned with whether a song is ‘cool’ or not, and grudgingly admit the early Spice Girls singles were great pop songs. You have to make room for love ballads at Christmas, and 2 Become 1 is a great example of one. I’ve even been known to listen to it outside of Christmas. And you have to admire the fact it gets a cheeky reference to wearing a condom in there. Their next two yuletide number 1s, Too Much (1997) and Goodbye (1998), were tosh, though.

The Worst:

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Westlife – I Have a Dream/Seasons in the Sun (1999): This was the easiest choice to make by far. I hated Westlife for being the final number 1 ‘artists’ of the 20th century. Was this really what the last 50 years of pop had been leading up to?! Time has certainly not changed my mind. I’d forgotten this was coming up so soon, and as the Irish boy band’s tepid cover of ABBA’s I Have a Dream began, I wanted to punch my ears. Only problem is, that would have pushed my earphones further down my now long-suffering hearing vessels, and thus increasing the torture. The next two or three minutes were vacuous, contemptible, cynical pap, but at least it would soon be over. Fuck! It’s a double-A-side! And they’ve had a go at a song about dying! I think Seasons in the Sun is actually even worse! This single only deserves to be the final number 1 of the millennium because it signposts the downward trajectory in quality and worth of the charts in the 21st century to date. But I’d rather listen to There’s No One Quite Like Grandma than ever suffer these two songs again.

The 00s

Before Simon Cowell did irreparable damage to December’s charts with the X Factor, there were a few more years of oddities. At 21, I had no time for Bob the Builder’s Can We Fix It? back in 2000, but coming after Westlife in my marathon listen, it was actually easy on the ears. It’s quite funny to think Neil Morrissey has had a number 1 with a dance anthem. Robbie Williams & Nicole Kidman’s Something Stupid (2001) seemed rather pointless, then and now. Girls Aloud had won Popstars: The Rivals in 2002, and Sound of the Underground still sounds like one of the few reality show songs that wasn’t a power ballad put together by a committee. Perhaps if talent show winners were still releasing songs like this, The X Factor wouldn’t finally be dying a slow death.

Michael Andrew and Gary Jules’s haunting cover of Tears For Fears’ Mad World (from the film Donnie Darko) seemed an appropriate choice after the conflict in Iraq in 2003, but strikes me as simply too downbeat now. Easily the most depressing track in the collection. The 20th anniversary of Do They Know It’s Christmas? brought about yet another version, and while Band Aid 20’s cover is better than Band Aid II, it goes on way too long and sounds too earnest. Speaking of earnest…

The second series of The X Factor in 2005 was where the Christmas charts were first hijacked. The next five years were wall-to-wall Cowell. Manufactured MOR with a revolving door of singers, some who have long since been forgotten about. Alexandra Burke’s Hallelujah (2008) was the only remotely memorable one, and that’s undoubtedly due to me loving Jeff Buckley’s version of the Leonard Cohen classic, which was that year’s runner-up.

The Best:

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Rage Against the Machine – Killing in the Name (2009): By the close of the 00s, some record buyers had had enough of Cowell’s dominance. Beginning an internet campaign which quickly snowballed, Zack de la Rocha and co’s rap-metal call for revolution from 1992 was the perfect antidote to yet another lightweight pop ballad. After suffering so much tripe beforehand I was on the verge of shouting ‘THANK FUCK’ in the middle of the office. Although it wasn’t the end of X Factor number 1s, Rage Against the Machine had inflicted serious damage to their stranglehold of the charts.

The Worst:

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Leon Jackson – When You Believe (2007): Jackson won the fourth series of the X Factor with this cover of a power ballad sung by Whitney Houston & Mariah Carey for the animation The Prince of Egypt in 1998. Dreary and tedious, it’s a throwback to some of the very first number 1s of the early 1950s and the worst X Factor Christmas number 1. I don’t think Jackson has been seen since – another victim of Cowell’s ruthlessness.

The 10s

Rage Against Machine had given the list a much-needed kick up the arse, but I don’t think it was just the potential lethargy my ears were suffering that caused the remaining tracks to be a tough listen. In addition to further X Factor tracks, charity singles became very popular once more, beginning with Wherever You Are by Military Wives with Gareth Malone in 2011. Lewisham and Greenwich NHS Choir’s A Bridge over You (2015) was along similar lines, combining Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water and Coldplay’s Fix You. I don’t want to belittle charity singles, but the combination of these and yet more talent show winners made for a very musically uninspiring final few tracks.

Some potential hope for the future came with the last song of all. Rockabye (2016), by Clean Bandit featuring Sean-Paul and Anne-Marie, broke the malaise that had set in and was simply a modern pop song by a young group, just like in the old days.  It didn’t do much for me personally, but pop should primarily be for the young, not a man who’s nearly 40, so fair play to them. Here’s hoping there’s further life in the charts for years to come.

The Best:

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The Justice Collective – He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother (2012): Adopting the Band Aid approach and featuring an all-star cast of musicians and celebrities, The Justice Collective was assembled by Peter Hooton of The Farm, in order to raise money for various charities associated with the Hillsborough disaster. Covering the classic Hollies track was an inspired choice, and it would be difficult to not be moved by this, whatever your thoughts on charity songs.

The Worst:

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Matt Cardle – When We Collide (2010): Shock, horror – it’s another X Factor song! Matt Cardle won the seventh series and released a cover of rock band Biffy Clyro’s Many of Horror and renamed it, for some reason. That’s the most interesting thing I can say about this leaden waste of time.

The Best UK Christmas Number 1 Ever is…

Slade – Merry Xmas Everybody (1973): I predicted this would win beforehand, but I didn’t predict just how many non-festive songs it would be up against, so Noddy, Dave, Don and Jim almost won by default. That’s not to take anything away from their win though. If it wasn’t for their chart battle with Wizzard, would the Christmas number 1 be the annual event it still is today? Possibly not. Back in 1973, the UK was going through a rough ride, with strikes and power cuts, and Merry Xmas Everybody brought some light back into (literally) dark times. 44 years later, we need this song more than ever.

The Worst UK Christmas Number 1 Ever is…

Westlife – I Have a Dream/Seasons in the Sun (1999): I think I made my feelings on this clear earlier, but even thinking about the damage it did to my ears is making me angry all over again. Pop music at it’s very dreariest, and far more offensive than any of the novelty hits I’ve had to suffer. I expected my lowest-rated song to be from the X Factor conveyor belt, but I feel some degree of sympathy towards those artists involved. It’s the man behind them that’s the true villain of chart music.

The Outro

Well, that was quite an experience. Yes, you could argue putting myself through every Christmas number 1, only to ultimately rediscover my love for Slade and hatred for Westlife, was pointless, but, despite my forlorn face above, and lots of moaning within this feature, it’s made for a fascinating experience. Tracing the Christmas number 1s from the inception of the charts has been like following the history of pop itself, which is after all what this site is all about. And no number 1 single better captures the eccentricities of the record-buying public than the Christmas number 1, throwing some real curveballs in there. Of course, listening to a history of pop like this has highlighted how far chart music has fallen over the last few decades. But there is still some hope for the future. And while this four-hour-plus experience has left me somewhat scarred, I’m already wondering if next year I should make my way through every UK Christmas number 2… Maybe I have developed a form of musical Stockholm Syndrome?

Of course, everyone’s entitled to an opinion… why not tell me yours? Feel free to shout me down and leave a comment in the box below the list.

Every UK Christmas Number 1 (1952-2016) 

1952: Al Martino – Here in My Heart
1953: Frankie Laine with Paul Weston & His Orchestra – Answer Me
1954: Winifred Atwell & Her ‘Other’ Piano – Let’s Have Another Party
1955: Dickie Valentine with Johnny Douglas & His Orchestra – Christmas Alphabet
1956: Johnnie Ray – Just Walkin’ in the Rain
1957: Harry Belafonte – Mary’s Boy Child
1958: Conway Twitty: It’s Only Make Believe
1959: Emile Ford and the Checkmates – What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For?
1960: Cliff Richard and The Shadows – I Love You
1961: Danny Williams – Moon River
1962: Elvis Presley – Return to Sender
1963: The Beatles – I Want to Hold Your Hand
1964: The Beatles – I Feel Fine
1965: The Beatles – Day Tripper/We Can Work It Out
1966: Tom Jones: Green Green Grass of Home
1967: The Beatles – Hello Goodbye
1968: The Scaffold – Lily the Pink
1969: Rolf Harris – Two Little Boys
1970: Dave Edmunds – I Hear You Knocking
1971: Benny Hill – Ernie (The Fastest Milkman in the West)
1972: Donny Osmond – Long Haired Lover from Liverpool
1973: Slade – Merry Xmas Everybody
1974: Mud – Lonely This Christmas
1975: Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
1976: Johnny Mathis – When a Child Is Born (Soleado)
1977: Wings – Mull of Kintyre/Girls School
1978: Boney M – Mary’s Boy Child – Oh My Lord
1979: Pink Floyd – Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)
1980: St Winifred’s School Choir – There’s No One Quite Like Grandma
1981: The Human League – Don’t You Want Me
1982: Renée and Renato – Save Your Love
1983: The Flying Pickets – Only You
1984: Band Aid – Do They Know It’s Christmas?
1985: Shakin’ Stevens – Merry Christmas Everyone
1986: Jackie Wilson – Reet Petite
1987: Pet Shop Boys – Always on My Mind
1988: Cliff Richard – Mistletoe and Wine
1989: Band Aid II – Do They Know It’s Christmas?
1990: Cliff Richard – Saviour’s Day
1991: Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody/These Are the Days of Our Lives
1992: Whitney Houston – I Will Always Love You
1993: Mr Blobby – Mr Blobby
1994: East 17 – Stay Another Day
1995: Michael Jackson – Earth Song
1996: Spice Girls – 2 Become 1
1997: Spice Girls – Too Much
1998: Spice Girls – Goodbye
1999: Westlife – I Have a Dream/Seasons in the Sun
2000: Bob the Builder – Can We Fix It?
2001: Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman – Something Stupid
2002: Girls Aloud – Sound of the Underground
2003: Michael Andrews and Gary Jules – Mad World
2004: Band Aid 20: Do They Know It’s Christmas?
2005: Shayne Ward – That’s My Goal
2006: Leona Lewis – A Moment Like This
2007: Leon Jackson – When You Believe
2008: Alexandra Burke – Hallelujah
2009: Rage Against the Machine – Killing in the Name Of
2010: Matt Cardle – When We Collide
2011: Military Wives with Gareth Malone – Wherever You Are
2012: The Justice Collective – He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother
2013: Sam Bailey – Skyscraper
2014: Ben Haenow – Something I Need
2015: Lewisham and Greenwich NHS Choir – A Bridge Over You
2016: Clean Bandit featuring Sean Paul and Anne-Marie – Rockabye