Every 70s Number 1

The Intro

In just over two years I’ve covered all the chart-toppers of the 70s. 168 blogs covering some of the best and worst pop songs of the decade. It was a decade of predictable highs and some unexpectedly huge lows.

The 60s were an incredible decade of transformation in music, thanks to pioneers like The Beatles. But in 1970 they split, and left a vacuum that took some time to get filled. But that’s not to say things immediately went to pot. As albums overtook singles in popularity, the early-70s number 1s are a fascinating mishmash of genres, as pop tried to chart its course through early-adulthood.

As we’ll see, glam rock acts like T Rex and Slade finally replaced The Beatles to an extent, and helped the country through some dark years. But then pop went through the equivalent of a mid-life crisis.

The mid-70s made for some often grim listening experiences, and you’ve only to watch episodes of Top of the Pops from that time to see how depressing things had become. The audience often look listless and bored rigid. Which is interesting, as the middle of the 60s was the most fertile period in pop, perhaps ever.

As we know, the story goes that punk gave pop a much-needed shot in the arm. And it’s true, but it took a while for that to sink into chart music, and the last few years of the decade saw a huge improvement. That’s thanks to new wave, which melded the rebelliousness and energy of punk with pop sensibilities. 1979 in particular is an embarrassment of riches, as we’ll see.

So, as with the 50s and 60s, here we go with a whistle-stop review of each year of the 70s, with my picks for the best and worst of each year, ending with my pick for each from the entire decade.

1970

As with the start of the 60s, 1970 begins as the previous decade, with rock remaining the most popular genre. The biggest difference is, for the first time since 1962, The Beatles didn’t get to number 1. Starting things off nicely are Edison Lighthouse, with the very Summer of Love-sounding Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes). Things take a dark, strange turn after that, and I have to say that Lee Marvin’s Wand’rin’ Star still impresses! There are some great lyrics in there, growled very effectively. Simon & Garfunkel bowed out as a duo with the first classic – Bridge over Troubled Water proves the hippy dream of loving and caring for your brothers and sisters wasn’t dead, even if the two singers couldn’t stand recording together after this. The early stirrings of glam appear thanks to Norman Greenbaum’s brilliant one-hit wonder Spirit in the Sky, which went to number 1 in the 80s and 00s for two other acts. Hard to believe now but for a while, it looked as if Mungo Jerry might become as big as the Fab Four. As silly as that sounds, you can’t deny that In the Summertime can still put a smile on anyone’s face. It’s another great 1970 number 1. Also deserving a notable mention is Matthews’ Southern Comfort’s poignant take on Joni Mitchell’s Woodstock. It’s such an underrated chart-topper, and a touching tribute to the 60s. As the decade struggles to find its way, it looks back at what came before several times. Two number 1s this year are actually 60s tracks. Smokey Robinson and The Miracles’ Tears of a Clown, another classic, has aged brilliantly, dating back to 1967. I’ll talk about the other in due course… Speaking of past stars, Elvis Presley is back at number 1 for the first time since 1965 with a cover of a 50s song, and Dave Edmunds rounds off in a similar way with I Hear You Knocking. There’s decent soul with interesting lyrics courtesy of Freda Payne’s Band of Gold, and Christie’s Yellow River has a very catchy chorus. There’s very little I can say bad about 1970 really. Even the England World Cup football team’s official song Back Home was an OK curio.

The Best:

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Voodoo Chile

Released as a single after guitar genius Jimi Hendrix’s shock death at the age of 27, this track, originally called Voodoo Chile (Slight Return), closed the group’s final album Electric Ladyland, released in 1968. Never intended as a single, Hendrix sings about his superhuman prowess but soon lets his guitar do the talking, as he so often did, to dizzying effect. Panning around the listener’s head, this supercharged psychedelia is the perfect showcase of the great man’s amazing talent, and is another appropriate epitaph on an amazing decade.

What’s the best 1970 number 1 that actually dates from that year? That’s actually almost impossible to decide between Bridge over Troubled Water, Spirit in the Sky and Woodstock. I’ll go with Simon & Garfunkel.

The Worst:

Dana – All Kinds of Everything

In an very impressive year, the Irish singer’s Eurovision winner sticks out like a sore thumb. Perfect for that competition, not so right for a year of great rock and soul. This ultra-twee ballad was spoofed even at the time, and it’s aged badly.

1971

In general, a noticeable divide appears this year that applies for most of the decade. The hip kids are turned on to the new glam sound emerging from T Rex with classics like Hot Love and Get It On, and Slade finally crack the charts – though they’re not the full-on force they’ll soon become, Coz I Luv You is still a catchy stomper. Meanwhile, the parents and grandparents are happy with cheesy dreck like Dawn’s Knock Three Times. Take a closer look though and it’s not that straightforward, as everyone seemed to love Middle of the Road’s Chirpy Chirpy Cheep – their name was perhaps more appropriate than anyone gave them credit for. And as bad as it is, never discount the effectiveness of an earworm. Also appealing to every generation, which probably explains why it became the year’s biggest seller, is George Harrison, becoming the first Beatle to have a solo number 1. The originality of My Sweet Lord may be debated but Harrison did the job with this lovely hymn that transcends devotion to one God. We also see hear just how popular novelty songs became in the 70s, with Clive Dunn’s Grandad kicking things off and Benny Hill’s Ernie (The Fastest Milkman in the West). And I don’t mind either, really. The soul choices for this year are average – Diana Ross’s I’m Still Waiting, then toppled by The Tams’ Hey Girl Don’t Bother Me. Much more enjoyable, and a refreshing change, is the reggae/ska track Double Barrel by Dave and Ansil Collins. Rod Stewart also gets the first of many appearances, and Reason to Believe/Maggie May are good – the latter is obviously a classic. Mungo Jerry bow out with the raucous sleazy curio Baby Jump.

The Best:

T Rex – Hot Love

After years of searching for stardom, Marc Bolan finally hit upon the sound that would make him gain music immortality. Hot Love is particularly strong. It’s sexy, raunchy and retains the weirdness of his Tyrannosaurus Rex era with some strange lyrics and those slightly unhinged backing vocals from Flo & Eddie. It’s Bolan’s Hey Jude, with a long triumphant fade-out, before he became obsessed with streamlining his winning formula to the point of parody.

The Worst:

Dawn – Knock Three Times

It was a toss-up between this and Middle of the Road, but as I said, Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep is at least very memorable, as pop should be. This isn’t really, is a throwback to the Humperdinck-MOR of the 60s, and a sign of some of the crap to come throughout the 70s.

1972

Glam rock continues to grow, and T Rex have their final two number 1s. Although the well has begun to run dry rather quickly for Marc Bolan, I have to confess Telegram Sam has grown on me since I reviewed it, and Metal Guru is fine life-affirming pop. Slade also notched up two more chart-toppers, and with Mama Weer All Crazee Now, they hit upon the template of fun glam anthems that would peak the following year. You could potentially stick Alice Cooper in the genre too, although they were more schlock-rock really. Nonetheless, this is a rather poor link into the fact that School’s Out still sounds great. There’s plenty of great stuff from this year. Chicory Tip’s Son of My Father is the first number 1 to feature a synthesiser, and we’d hear more of that instrument and its pioneer Giorgio Moroder, who co-wrote this song, later in the 70s. Nilsson invented the power ballad with his cover of Badfinger’s Without You – this is the best version of a great tune, later a number 1 for Mariah Carey. 1972 saw the start of two families cornering the teen pop market – one real and one fictional. The Osmonds became an ever-present force in the charts, mainly thanks to the squeaky-clean Donny Osmond. His first number 1 was the syrupy Puppy Love. David Cassidy, from TV show The Partridge Family, was more rebellious and had aspersions to be a credible pop star. How Can I Be Sure is OK, I guess. Elsewhere in the pop world, The New Seekers version of the famous Coke jingle is obviously very sappy, but I have to confess to a soft spot for I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony). In the fair-to-middling category are Don McLean’s ode to Vincent Van Gogh and Rod Stewart’s You Wear It Well. There’s some baffling ones too, one of which is genuinely wonderful (Lieutenant Pigeon’s Mouldy Old Dough) and the other is probably the weirdest, possibly of all time (the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards’ Amazing Grace). Then there’s the ‘dreck’ category, containing Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Clair, Chuck Berry’s My Ding-a-Ling and… well, you can probably guess.

The Best:

T Rex – Metal Guru

I’d rank this third best of the four Bolan chart-toppers, but Hot Love and Get It On are two of the finest of the decade. Metal Guru is still great, from the ecstatic ‘Woah, yeah!’ at the start to the ‘yeah, yeah yeah’ at the fade. The lyrics are as usual, weird and silly, but the tune is infectious and would later be pinched by Johnny Marr to great effect for The Smiths’ Sheila Take a Bow. With this, T Rex become the second act after The Beatles to get my pick for best number 1 two years in a row (Hello, Goodbye and Hey Jude), and deservedly so.

The Worst:

Little Jimmy Osmond with The Mike Curb Congregation – Long Haired Lover from Liverpool

This was my pick of worst Christmas number 1s of the 70s and it’s so deserving. Genuinely offensive to the ears. A screeching, godawful racket, with nothing to say in its favour. Perhaps the decade’s nadir – no offence, Jimmy. Seems like a nice guy.

1973

We’re entering the peak of the glam era now, and what a storming start we have. A double-bill of 1973 highlights with The Sweet’s Block Buster!, followed by Slade’s Cum On Feel the Noize. The latter had an incredible year, notching up three chart-toppers, two of which are undeniable classics. Later in the year there’s the Wizzard song that’s for life not just for Christmas (See My Baby Jive), and a pretty enjoyable tribute to the 50s (Angel Fingers (A Teen Ballad)). Unfortunately Gary Glitter inevitably rears his ugly head, but all credit to his producer and songwriter Mike Leander, not the paedophile, because I can’t deny that I’m the Leader of the Gang (I Am!) and to a lesser extent I Love You Love Me Love would still be fondly remembered were it not for the obvious. The Chinnichap hit making team were scoring hits left, right and centre, and as well as The Sweet, there was the first of two bestsellers for Suzi Quatro with the rocking Can the Can. Osmond and Cassidy are back once more and the former’s two number 1s are not quite as sickly as Puppy Love from the year previous. His last solo entry, Young Love, was the first cover of a former number 1 – Tab Hunter was responsible in 1957. Cassidy’s double A-side is a strange mixed-bag. Daydreamer is a soppy melancholy middling track, and then he covers a Nilsson song. But The Puppy Song is just a novelty track, really. Second of two number 1s concerning dogs too, if you count Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Get Down. 10cc’s first of three chart-toppers this year got a pretty good review from me originally, but Rubber Bullets really stood out for me this time around. The weirdest track this year has to be the Simon Park Orchestra’s Eye Level (Theme from the Thames TV Series ‘Van Der Talk’), but I’ve always enjoyed it!

The Best:

Slade – Merry Xmaƨ Everybody: Despite this being my pick for greatest Christmas number 1 of all time, I wasn’t sure this would be my pick for 1973, purely because, well, there’s only one month a year you should be listening to this really, whereas their other classic, Cum On Feel the Noize, is also brilliant, underrated, and can be enjoyed anytime. However, in the end, it had to be Slade’s sixth and final chart-topper really, because ‘IT’S CHHHHRRRIIIISSSSSTTTMMMAAASSSS’ is still electrifying, even on the 430,000,000th listen.

The Worst:

Dawn (Featuring Tony Orlando) – Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree

This is actually more enjoyable then Knock Three Times, and I don’t hate it (against my better judgement), but the 1973 selection of number 1s is particularly impressive, so this rather sticks out like a sore thumb.

1974

The tail end of the glam years sees it become a little too retro. That’s no bad thing when it comes to Mud’s Tiger Feet, which is one of the most joyous songs of the decade, quite frankly. But although their Christmas number 1 Lonely This Christmas is one of my favourite Christmas-themed chart-toppers, it’s obviously an Elvis pastiche and isn’t a patch on Merry Xmaƨ Everybody. Alvin Stardust makes his one and only appearance here, but Jealous Mind is weirdly disjointed and only got where it did because of the previous success of the superior My Coo Ca Choo. Suzi Quatro’s second and last, Devil Gate Drive, is better, but not quite as good as Can the Can. Gary Glitter’s third and last, Always Yours, proves that Leander was the talent – this track is totally forgettable without his songwriting and production. Is Sugar Baby Love glam rock? I’m not sure, but The Rubettes liked to dress up and it’s certainly indebted to the 50s – that falsetto is glorious and has grown on me. Another sign pop was looking backwards now is the return of the death disc. Last seen back in the 60s, we’ve two in a row here – Paper Lace’s Billy – Don’t Be a Hero (middling) and Terry Jack’s Seasons in the Sun (better). Lots of pop, by some big names too. We’ve the debut of ABBA with Waterloo, The New Seekers’ endearingly bawdy sounding You Won’t Find Another Fool Like Me, David Essex’s Gonna Make You a Star and The Osmonds’ Love Me for a Reason, which is much better than Donny’s chart-toppers. All these are decent. Charles Aznavour’s She and John Denver’s Annie’s Song don’t do much for me, though. Some nice soul and reggae tracks courtesy of The Three Degrees (When Will I See You Again) and Barry White (You’re the First, the Last, My Everything). Less good is Sweet Sensation’s Sad Sweet Dreamer. Ken Boothe flies the reggae flag proudly with the lovely Everything I Own. And as for novelty one-hit wonders, well it doesn’t get much better than Carl Douglas’s Kung Fu Fighting, surely?

The Best:

George McCrae – Rock Your Baby

It’s genuinely difficult to pick between this and Tiger Feet. But Rock Your Baby is one of my favourite disco tracks of all time and was one of the first of its kind, so McCrae wins for advancing music rather than looking back like Mud. There’s lots of other reasons Rock Your Baby is so great, of course. That cute, primitive drum machine at the start, the slinky groove from members of KC and the Sunshine Band, but most of all, a gorgeous, angelic vocal from McCrae, who ended up singing this by accident. And what an accident, because it’s something I’ll never tire of. If anything, my love and appreciation for this grows every time I hear it.

The Worst:

Ray Stevens – The Streak

Truly horrific novelty country pop, cashing in on the very 70s phenomenon of streaking. There’s many reasons to hate this. That high-pitched noise at every chorus. The ‘boogadie-boogadie’ backing vocals. The fact it’s not funny in the slightest. Bloody awful.

1975

This year is all over the place with styles and quality. On the rock front glam is dying out and you could argue Mud’s lacklustre cover of Buddy Holly’s Oh Boy is the last one. Were Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel glam? I’m not so sure but if you think so, then Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) is a bona fide classic and one of the year’s highlights. Queen weren’t glam but there’s certainly some similarities, and obviously Bohemian Rhapsody is one of the most famous number 1s (on two occasions) of all time. Overfamiliarity has perhaps spoiled it for me over the years, but hearing it in the context of the rest of the year, I love it once more. Classic rock started the year off, actually – Status Quo’s one and only chart-topper Down Down is a prime example of how good they can sound – in small doses. The intro to Pilot’s January is excellent, but it settles down into straightforward pop – but it’s growing on me. But special mention on the rock front has to go to 10cc’s I’m Not in Love. Like Bohemian Rhapsody, it pushes the envelope, which doesn’t happen often in the mid-70s. Unlike Bohemian Rhapsody, it’s under appreciated, and gets better with age. Absolutely brilliant and the best ‘new’ number 1 of 1975. What’s happening on the pop front? Well, Roller-mania was in full force with Bay City Rollers cropping up twice. And to be fair, both Bye Bye Baby and Give a Little Love are acceptable teen pop anthems. On the soul front, The Tymes M/s Grace and The Stylistics’ Can’t Give You Anything (But My Love) are nothing special. Elsewhere, there’s some big names once more. Essex’s second and last number 1, Hold Me Close, is a bit too chirpy and it’s a shame Rock On didn’t hold pole position. Tammy Wynette’s Stand By Your Man, originally a 60s hit, doesn’t do a lot for me and I can see why it’s somewhat controversial lyrically, especially in 2022. And it’s the 70s, so of course there’s some weird one-hit-wonders too. Telly Savalas’s spoken-word cover of If is bizarre but interesting. Windsor Davies and Don Estelle’s cover of Whispering Grass is strangely touching! Typically Tropical’s Barbados is politically incorrect and crap, but the Vengaboys would also have a number 1 over 20 years later with a very similar song about Ibiza.

The Best:

David Bowie – Space Oddity

Genuinely torn about rewarding another best number 1 to a 60s hit, and considered giving 1975 to 10cc. But… it’s David Bowie! And not only is it Bowie, it’s one of his best, and the one that started his path to stardom. Had Bowie never had another hit, he’d still be remembered for this classic tale about the alienation of Major Tom as he drifts off into space. It’s majestic, haunting and totally amazing. It’s frankly criminal that this should be Bowie’s only chart-topper in what was an amazing decade for him, but it’s better than none at all.

The Worst:

Billy Connolly – D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

Ye gads this is bad. Maybe it would help if I loved Connolly as a comic, I’m not sure. But it’s aged awfully. A reworking of a Wynette song that isn’t anywhere near as funny as the Big Yin seems to think it is.

1976

There’s a pretty big decline in quality on the whole. ABBA made a big return, enjoying three number 1s. One amazing, one OK, one poor. Big clue here – Mamma Mia is OK, Fernando isn’t. There’s somewhat of a Europop feeling to proceedings. As well as ABBA, there’s Brotherhood of Man’s sappy Eurovision winner, Save Your Kisses for Me, Dutch group Pussycat’s painful Mississippi and Greek warbler Demis Roussos’s Excerpts from ‘The Roussos Phenomenon (EP). The latter is at least of note for being the first ever EP to top the charts, and I have a soft spot for Forever and Ever. But three more inferior songs by Roussos kills the flow somewhat – it’s not quite the same as listening to The Beatles in their prime. Weirdly, it’s the second song called Forever and Ever at number 1 – and the first came earlier that year. It’s a real curio, featuring not only Midge Are, but a really strange mix of dark Gothic pomp and Rollers-style teen pop. What legends do we have this year? There’s The Four Seasons with the memorable December 1963 (Oh, What a Night), a deceptively sweet song about losing your virginity to a prostitute. And there’s also Elton John’s first stint at the top with Kiki Dee. Don’t Go Breaking My Heart is a still-charming bit of disco. In fact, disco is easily the highlight of the year, represented pretty well by this and The Real Thing’s You to Me Are Everything – one of the year’s highlights. Tina Charles’s I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves to Dance) isn’t quite as impressive. Which leaves a mixed bag. You’ve one of the best novelty hits of the decade with The Wurzels’ The Combine Harvester (Brand New Key). Ridiculous but hilariously addictive. Then the year ends with some odds and sods. Chicago’s If You Leave Me Now starts off strong but melts into mush. Showaddywaddy’s Under the Moon of Love is a rather fun slice of tail-end glam. And 50s crooner Johnny Mathis brings a stately end to proceedings with When a Child is Born (Soleado). But in general, a rot has set in, and things need shaking up.

The Best:

ABBA – Dancing Queen

One of the greatest pop songs of the decade. Dancing Queen would come out top in an average year easily. In a year like 1976, it wipes the floor with the competition. And I’m not exactly the world’s biggest ABBA fan. Writing this blog has made me more appreciative of them though, especially when you compare them to what else was happening – particularly at this point. Sublime bliss.

The Worst:

J.J. Barrie – No Charge

It takes an especially bad song to rank lower than Pussycat’s Mississippi, but this is absolutely fucking terrible. It’s so bad it makes me angry. It’s so bad it could bring me to tears. It’s so bad. So, so, so bad. I can’t… words can’t describe how bad this is. It’s really bad. Bad.

1977

As we know, the Queen’s jubilee year and the rise of punk saw an inevitable culture clash, resulting in perhaps the most controversial number 1 ever. Yes, upon researching, I can’t help but strongly suspect that the music industry really did pretend that the Sex Pistols’ God Save the Queen only made it to number two, to prevent embarrassment during the celebrations of the monarch that summer. A real shame because it would have ranked as one of the most exciting parts of another generally lacklustre year. Although it was better than 1976. And thankfully the ramifications did shake the charts up in due course, as we’ll see. The other biggest chart news of the year was certainly the death of Elvis Presley. So dominant in the 50s and 60s charts, his 17th number 1 (equalling The Beatles) Way Down showed that even ‘The King’ couldn’t resist the disco bandwagon. But there weren’t many other disco chart-toppers that year. Baccara’s Yes Sir, I Can Boogie was a fun slice of Euro-sleaze, though. Elsewhere it was mainly pop and soul. And David Soul, the Starsky & Hutch TV star had two average chart-toppers, Don’t Give Up on Us and Silver Lady. Julie Covington’s rendition of Don’t Cry for Me Argentina brought a song from a musicals to the pinnacle of the charts for the first time in ages, but it’s too stately for me to enjoy. Leo Sayer’s When I Need You is a decent power ballad. On the novelty front, The Manhattan Transfer’s Chanson d’Amour is deeply irritating, whereas The Floaters’ Float On is pretty cool. ABBA are back with another two great tracks – Knowing Me, Knowing You and The Name of the Game display their growing maturity very well. Deniece Williams’ tender soul song Free is underrated – but make sure you listen to the album version. Despite my annoyance over the Sex Pistols controversy, at least Rod Stewarts’ double-bill First Cut Is the Deepest/I Don’t Want to Talk About It are two of his better number 1 tracks and complement each other well. Country giant Kenny Rogers had his first chart-topper with the OK track Lucille. We’ve then got the number 1 debut of one of the biggest stars of the next decade, as The Jacksons’ had their only number 1 with Show You the Way to Go. The Jackson 5 had better singles, but this is lovely too. And then at the end of the year, another music legend made a triumphant return. Paul McCartney became the second former-Beatle to get to number 1 when Wings broke the record for the biggest-selling UK single of all time, which it kept for years. But not many know that the record doesn’t just go to Mull of Kintyre, but to Girls’ School too, as it was a double A-side.

The Best:

Donna Summer – I Feel Love

Head and shoulders above most of the rest of the decade. Disco diva Summer’s collaboration with Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte was created with the intention of sounding like music of the future. They most likely didn’t realise just how prescient this turned out to be. Transcendent, pioneering, immortal. A number 1 I could listen to on a loop forever.

The Worst:

Brotherhood of Man – Angelo

I was genuinely disgusted that the song I ranked best of 1977 was knocked from the top by this. This is the 70s at its worst. A corny, light entertainment rip-off of ABBA’s Fernando, which I wasn’t too keen on either, but at least it was ABBA’s own song! This attempted rewrite shows a distinct lack of imagination and shows the team behind Brotherhood of Man up as total opportunists. Eugh.

1978

Things picked up a gear as the decade drew to a close. Punk was already on its way out but new wave rose in its wake, with The Boomtown Rats’ Rat Trap the first chart-topper of the genre. Better were to come, but it’s a good start Many more followed in 1979. However, the biggest success story of the year was definitely Grease. John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John enjoyed a whopping 16 weeks at the top in total with You’re the One That I Want (nine) and Summer Nights (seven). I like both – but I’m fully aware that, had I been a teen back then, I’d have been so relieved when Bob Geldof ripped up a picture of the actors on Top of the Pops. The other main winners of the year were Boney M, with two disco-light number 1s. I’ve never been a fan of Frank Farian’s tacky productions, and time hasn’t made me warm to Rivers of Babylon or Mary’s Boy Child/Oh My Lord any more. Far better on the disco front was the Bee Gees triumphant return to the top spot with one of my favourite tracks from the Saturday Night Fever, soundtrack (Travolta was everywhere). Stayin’ Alive was the album’s true classic, but this does nicely. And the other? Well blow me down if it isn’t Rod the Mod. Stewart was understandably accused of jumping on the disco bandwagon with Da ‘Ya’ Think I’m Sexy?, and yes, he looks ridiculous and the video is silly, but I like the song, so there. The year got off to an excellent start with some proper reggae by Althea & Donna with Uptown Top Ranking. In September 10cc spoofed the genre with the ill-advised Dreadlock Holiday. Not a patch on I’m Not in Love, but the tune is infectious as we all know. ABBA bow out of the decade on the number 1 front with the catchy-as-hell Take a Chance on Me. After a few mature singles, this brought the fun back big time. What’s left? Brotherhood of Man nervously poke their heads round the corner after the godawful Angelo, but they can rest easy because I actually find Figaro amusing rather than reprehensible. It gives great bass, and they’re not ripping off ABBA for a change. The Commodores make their only appearance in the summer, and while Lionel Richie wrote some great songs for them and his solo career, I find Three Times a Lady a little too sentimental. Brian and Michael’s Matchstalk Men & Matchstalk Cats & Dogs (Lowry’s Song) is an average novelty number 1, with touching lyrics about LS Lowry, but a bit too ‘Eee ba gum’ at the same time.

The Best:

Kate Bush – Wuthering Heights

The first ever number 1 by a UK woman, Wuthering Heights introduced the world to one of our most unique songwriting talents. Few number 1s had ever had such an original premise, despite its theme being totally unoriginal. I don’t know how many record buyers had even read Wuthering Heights, but it didn’t matter, because Bush embodies the ghostly Cathy of the novel so well, the longing pierces you, the chorus is mammoth, the piano is beautiful, and the guitar solo is heroic. I think ‘Ooh, let me have it/let me grab your soul away’ captures the way not only Cathy feels, but how anyone totally lost in love feels, and the resolution in ‘It’s me, Cathy’ is beautiful. Wise beyond her years.

The Worst:

Boney M – Mary’s Boy Child/Oh My Lord

I know many people still love Boney M, but I’ve never liked them. Done right, disco is life-affirming, entrancing and fantastic. Farian’s productions suck the life out of the genre, scream the word ‘fake’ and make me feel like I’m in a supermarket full of zombies on a rainy Sunday. If ever there was a time of year you’d think I’d be able to forgive them for that, it would be Christmas. But no, despite happily listening to all kinds of Christmas songs by artists I’d normally not touch with a bargepole, this cover of Harry Belafonte’s 1957 festive chart-topper is putrid.

1979

Wow. Not since the mid-60s has a year had such a strong showing of exciting, fascinating, invigorating number 1s. The seeds sown by punk finally bear fruit properly, and how. New wave runs rampant, with hit after hit. Ian Dury and The Blockheads’ Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick, Blondie’s Heart of Glass and Sunday Girl, Tubeway Army’s Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, Gary Numan’s Cars, The Boomtown Rats’ I Don’t Like Mondays, The Police’s Message in a Bottle and Walking on the Moon, The Buggles’ Video Killed the Radio Star… five of those are tremendous and could easily have been my pick for the year I was born. And the great thing about new wave is, it straddles many other genres at the same time. Disco remained strong this year, getting it off to a fun start with the Village People’s Y.M.C.A.. The Bee Gees are back again but in such a strong year, Tragedy kind of gets lost in the crowd. Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive is a classic to most but overkill has ruined its impact over the years. I prefer Anita Ward’s saucy Ring My Bell, personally. And I’ve always had a soft spot for Dr Hook’s When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman. The decade came to a close with that most unlikely disco group – prog rock titans Pink Floyd. Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) is far from the most festive Christmas number 1 of all time, but a song that set the scene for the Thatcher era that was just beginning. Is Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick disco? Or is it funk? It kind of defies description, so let’s just go with new wave. What I do know is, it’s amazing. On the legends front, Art Garfunkel’s hauntingly poignant Bright Eyes is a favourite of mine – and not just because it was the top of the pops when I was born. And good God, Cliff Richard is back – and even he puts up a good showing, with We Don’t Talk Anymore! Blondie’s form of new wave branches off into several genres, particularly with their first and best number 1 – Heart of Glass. Their second, Sunday Girl, is a pleasant enough pop ditty, but again, it’s up against some true greats. Gary Numan has always been adored by his ‘Numanoids’ but to the general public he’s often derided as a David Bowie and Kraftwerk impersonator. There’s no denying the influence of either on him, but that shouldn’t take away from the brilliance of his two singles here. Tubeway Army’s Are ‘Friends’ Electric? is my favourite of the two (just), because it sounds totally alien to previous number 1s – so strange, yet so catchy, and pointing the way to the 80s and beyond. Cars is great too, obviously. The Boomtown Rats’ second number 1, I Don’t Like Mondays, is much better known than Rat Trap, and although it’s perhaps a bit on the earnest side, I’ve always liked it. This blog has alerted me to how good some of The Police’s chart-toppers were. Message in a Bottle is better than I remember, blending reggae, punk and pop, but the dub-based majesty of Walking on the Moon is even better. Which leaves one more to mention here, and it’s wholly appropriate to bring a close to proceedings with Video Killed the Radio Star, a classic pop track that, like Numan, showed what was around the corner. There was plenty of intelligent, shiny, cool pop still to come in the 80s.

The Best:

Blondie – Heart of Glass

The New York five-piece will never know, or give the remotest shit, that they won out in 1979, but it’s a hell of a feat if you ask me, so strong was the competition. In the end, it was between this, Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick and Are ‘Friends’ Electric?. All three pushed the envelope of pop, crossed boundaries and still managed to capture the imagination of the public, for vastly different reasons. I went with this stone-cold classic because… it’s just so damn impressive that a punk-pop group from New York were able to make a disco-electro tune that proves they understood and loved dance music as much as rock. Of course, Debbie Harry is one of the greatest lead singers ever, so cool, strong, intelligent and sexy. Her performance in Heart of Glass is perfect. And it contains the word ‘ass’. What more could you want in a number 1?

The Worst:

Lena Martell – One Day at a Time

I just cannot understand how got through the net in 1979. This is the only number 1 song I dislike in the whole year. I’m not sure that’s happened before or will happen again. It’s certainly not the worst of the 70s though, and wouldn’t get singled out half as much had it appeared earlier in the decade. But bad timing, Martell. It’s so dated and dull.

The Best 70s Number 1 Ever is…

Donna Summer – I Feel Love

In an often disappointing decade, I Feel Love reigns supreme. It’s the blueprint for the future of music. Propelled by Moroder’s amazing, retro-yet-innovative production, Summer’s vocal is a soaring, sexy thing of beauty. Like previous decade winners Great Balls of Fire and She Loves You, it’s unique, yet in tune with the times, revolutionary, yet never forgets that it’s ultimately, a pop song. And if these three songs don’t prove that pop is so much more than just a three-minute tune to tap your feet to, please tell me why.

The Worst 70s Number 1 Ever is…

JJ Barrie – No Charge

No bloody wonder, more like. There were lots of painful chart-toppers in the 70s, as we’ve seen, but none elicited such anger and bile in me as this. It’s that awful over-sincere spoken word country twang, with the wailing of the backing singer, combined with the mawkish lyric. Hopefully, I’ll never have to suffer this ever again now.

The Outro

From soaring highs to awful troughs, the number 1s of the 70s are a very mixed bag. What surprised me was how, for me, the quality doesn’t suffer as soon as The Beatles split. Despite a noticeable void, there’s lots of great rock and pop in the early 70s. And then of course, T Rex usher in glam, and there’s lots of good, even great, glam songs here. Disco is the other main genre that pops up time and again throughout the decade. Again, the quality varies greatly, but at its best it takes pop forward and transcends a lot of mediocre material around at the same time. And then new wave is definitely the end of the decade’s best success story, having a massive impact and setting the scene for the 80s.

ABBA impressed me more than I expected, and from reviewing what else was around, particularly in 1976, I can see now why they’re so highly regarded. But they also sum up some of the decade’s weakest points – the MOR pop, cheesy and disposable. Although, you can’t blame ABBA for Brotherhood of Man, for instance.

It’s also worth noting that my favourite number 1s of 1970 and 1975 are actually from 1968 and 1969 respectively. It was a fascinating, brilliant, infuriating g decade for chart-toppers, all in all.

Blogs on every 70s number 1 are available to view via the Archive section.

324. Little Jimmy Osmond with The Mike Curb Congregation – Long Haired Lover from Liverpool (1972)

The Intro

What fresh hell is this? By installing nine-year-old Little Jimmy Osmond as Christmas number 1, the UK record-buying public’s collective nervous breakdown of 1972 was complete. The Osmonds were the biggest pop sensation of the year – but this was a step too far.

Before

James Arthur Osmond, born 16 April 1963, is the youngest member of the family, born in Canoga Park, California. His brothers were already TV stars as regulars on The Andy Williams Show at this point, and Jimmy was taught by tutors, his parents preparing him from a young age to follow them into the music industry.

Long Haired Lover from Liverpool was originally a single by Christoper Kingsley (credited on the Osmond version as Christopher Dowden for some reason) from 1969. I’m assuming the title is a reference to The Beatles, then still a going concern. It’s almost identical to the Osmond version, though as it’s sung by a grown man, it’s not as irritating. Examining the vinyl label suggests the backing singers on the original are the same as Osmond’s version, namely The Mike Curb Congregation. Curb, a film score and TV theme writer, had formed the group in the 60s to sing on his work. In 1969 he had merged his company with MGM Records, which soon became home to The Osmonds. He also co-produced this abomination.

The original version bombed, but Jimmy’s mother Olive heard it as it was distributed by MGM, and a horrible, terrible idea formed. It was a cute little tune… her boys had cornered the market in teenage girls… Christmas was around the corner, the boys were about to visit the UK… Jimmy could release it as a single!

Review

A few years back I listened and reviewed every Christmas number 1 in one sitting here. I rated Long Haired Lover from Liverpool as the worst of the 70s, and I stand by that. Comments included ‘Jesus Christ. That’s the only thing I can say about this that’s remotely festive, but it’s not meant as a compliment… It’s memorable I guess, but so is a bout of diarrhoea’. Nothing has changed since then to change my opinion, and although there have been plenty of weird choices in 1972’s number 1s, this still stands out as particularly stinky.

Osmond’s voice is just awful – but he was only nine (still the youngest person to ever have a UK number 1), so his parents are to blame. And the fools who kept this at the top of the charts for five weeks. FIVE WEEKS?! You can almost excuse it happening in the silly season, but for a month afterwards? And it kept David Bowie, T. Rex and even his brothers from number 1 with The Jean Genie, Solid Gold Easy Action and Crazy Horses respectively. The only plus point is it’s over quick.

After

Amazingly, Osmond scored further hits with Tweedle Dee and I’m Gonna Knock On Your Door (none of these songs fared anywhere near as well in his home country). His recordings became sporadic as the Osmond empire declined in popularity, and in the 80s he moved into management, though he would still occasionally appear on stage with his siblings. He opened the Osmond Family Theater and became president of Osmond Entertainment, running their merchandise and producing TV.

Since the new millennium began, Osmond has been a pantomime mainstay in the UK and appeared on TV time and time again, including I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, Come Dine with Me and Celebrity Masterchef. He seems a thoroughly nice guy, and we all do silly things in our youth, so lets forgive him for this aberration.

The Outro

1972 must rank as one of the weirdest years for number 1s to date. Lots of the ‘grown-up’ stars were still concentrating on albums, and although glam rock ensured great releases by Slade and T. Rex, it wasn’t as huge as it was to become. At least January 1973 was a blockbuster month…

The Info

Written by

Christopher Dowden

Producers

Mike Curb & Perry Botkin Jr

Weeks at number 1

5 (23 December 1972-26 January 1973)

The Info

Births

29 December 1972: Actor Jude Law
18 January 1973:
Kula Shaker singer Crispian Mills

Deaths

24 December 1972: Art historian Gisela Richter
15 January 1973: Scottish novelist Neil M Gunn
19 January:
Northern Irish actor Max Adrian

Meanwhile…

1 January 1973: A big day for the UK, as it officially entered the European Economic Community along with the Republic of Ireland and Denmark. Membership refusals in 1963 and 1967 had both been vetoed by French President Charles de Gaulle. Edward Heath later said entry into the EEC was his greatest accomplishment as Prime Minister.

11 January: The BBC’s Open University awarded its first degrees.

19 January: Super tug Statesman was sent to protect British fishing vessels from Iceland’s ships in the Cod War.

22 January: British share values fell by £4 billion in one day.

25 January: English actor Derren Nesbitt pleaded guilty to assaulting his wife Anne Aubrey after she told him she had been having an affair. They divorced a few months later.

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