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.

377. Rod Stewart – Sailing (1975)

The Intro

1975 was a pivotal year for Rod Stewart. He switched labels, left the UK, released this, his most popular of six number 1s, and lost his bandmates when Faces split. He became a superstar and lost credibility at the same time.

Before

Such was Stewart’s popularity when his previous chart-topper, You Wear It Well was released in 1972, his uncredited appearance on Python Jackson’s In a Broken Dream soared to number three. The album Never a Dull Moment spawned number four hit What’s Made Milwaukee Famous (Has Made a Loser Out of Me). In 1973, Faces recorded their final album Ooh La La. It wasn’t supposed to be, but tensions made it so. Stewart didn’t turn up for the first few weeks of recording, then complained the songs were in the wrong key, leaving the band to re-record them. The title track, a classic, was made three times before Stewart eventually passed vocal duties on to guitarist Ronnie Wood.

In the meantime, Stewart’s solo career was still holding firm, with a medley of Farewell/Bring It On Home to Me/You Send Me reaching seven in 1974. I also have to mention the best song title I’ve seen in a while, also from that year – You Can Make Me Dance, Sing or Anything (Even Take the Dog for a Walk, Mend a Fuse, Fold Away the Ironing Board, or Any Other Domestic Shortcomings. This was the final single by Rod Stewart and Faces. Note that billing. Either the record label knew the singer now had more pulling power, or he insisted on it himself.

In 1975, Stewart left Mercury Records and signed with Warner Bros. and decided to leave England with his girlfriend Britt Ekland for Los Angeles, in order to avoid paying 83% tax on his earnings. With a bigger budget, Stewart ditched his colleagues to work with famous producer Tom Dowd and the legendary Muscle Shoals musicians in Alabama. Cleverly, the LP was named Atlantic Crossing. On Ekland’s suggestion, the album was sequenced to have a slow side and a fast side.

It’s likely that Stewart may have suggested he cover Sailing to tie in with the theme of travelling to a new country. The fact it’s a cover was a surprise to me, and it’s original meaning wasn’t so literal either. It was written by Gavin Sutherland, one half of folk duo The Sutherland Brothers. It was released as a single in July 1972, and was a more haunting affair than the better-known cover. Featuring Gavin on bass drum and Iain on harmonium, it was intended as representing one man’s Celtic spiritual journey to freedom. Deep. If you like the gist of Sailing but find Stewart’s too overblown, it’s worth a try. Stewart became aware of The Sutherland Brothers the year their single came out and apparently they even co-wrote two songs with him intended for Atlantic Crossing but they never saw the light of day.

Stewart, despite his confidence, always needed a drink or two back then to record his vocals. So he was in for a shock when Dowd rang his hotel room at 10am telling him the backing track was ready so he had to go sing it ASAP. And so he found himself recording, stone-cold sober, at an ungodly hour for any musician, for the first time. And in front of world-famous musicians, to boot. But he loosened up enough to get it in six or seven takes, he later recalled. The choir were put together by Bob Crewe, a writer and producer for The Four Seasons.

Review

Sailing seems to be a song you either love or hate. As he moved into the big league, Stewart ditched the folk sound and the lyrical talent displayed on previous number 1s Maggie May and You Wear It Well. He used to have a great way of making the characters in his songs relatable and more human than your average songwriter. From here on in, he started to become mainly interested in covering other people’s material and showing off his famously gravelly voice. I may perhaps be over-generalising though, as The Killing of Georgie (Parts I and II) was still a year away.

As for me, I neither love nor hate it. It’s inferior to the songs I’ve just mentioned, and yes it’s overlong and overblown, but there was far worse to come. Nice guitar sound during the solo too. Perhaps you had to be there at the time to really feel it an overfamiliar dirge. And with four weeks at number 1, followed by almost repeating the feat a year later when it was used as the theme tune to Sailor, a BBC One documentary series on the Ark Royal, it was certainly a familiar song back then.

After

Sailing has sold over a million and became one of Stewart’s signature songs. Two videos were made. The first, from 1975, also starred Ekland, and the second, in which he dons a sailor outfit and looks all wistful at New York, was made in 1978 and became one of the first videos to be shown on MTV. You can see it above. It became a popular tune during the Falklands conflict, and was re-released in 1987 to raise money for charity following the Herald of Free Enterprise disaster. Whichever version you prefer, you cannot argue that it was Stewart who made it the anthem it’s known as to this day.

The Info

Written by

Gavin Sutherland

Producer

Tom Dowd

Weeks at number 1

4 (6 September-3 October)

Trivia

Births

18 September: Football player Richard Appleby
23 September: Radio DJ Chris Hawkins
25 September: Presenter Declan Donnelly

Deaths

10 September: Nobel Prize laureate George Paget Thomson

Meanwhile…

19 September: John Cleese’s classic sitcom Fawlty Towers debuted on BBC Two.

24 September: Douglas Haston and Doug Scott became the first British people to climb Mount Everest.

27 September: York’s National Railway Museum became the first national museum outside London.

28 September–3 October – The Spaghetti House siege, in which nine people are taken as hostages at the Spaghetti House restaurant , takes place in London.

318. Rod Stewart – You Wear It Well (1972)

The Intro

‘Rod the Mod’, after years of striving, became a solo superstar off the back of Maggie May in 1971. And his group Faces did well out of it too, releasing third album A Nod Is as Good as a Wink… To a Blind Horse later that year and scoring a hit with the raucous Stay With Me. But there was some tension among the band, despite them helping out on Stewart’s next solo album Never a Dull Moment, that he was concentrating a little too much on his own career.

Before

Featuring covers of Jimi Hendrix and Sam Cooke as well as songs co-written with Ronnie Wood and Martin Quittenton, his fourth solo LP was released in July 1972, and You Wear It Well was singled out the following month.

It’s a sequel of sorts to Maggie May, also co-written by Stewart and Quittenton, in which the singer, now in Minnesota, is writing to a lover. Something went wrong along the way and he ‘blew it without even trying’, and he doesn’t know if she’ll ever even get his song/note, but he’s offloading anyway. The tone of the song is so similar, both lyrically and musically (the drumming at the start is surely a deliberate nod?) it seems very likely to be for Maggie to me, especially when you consider the references to age and ‘radical views’ (see my Maggie May blog for more on the origins of that song)

Review

As with Maggie May, Stewart is very good at telling a story and creating compelling characters. I don’t know what went wrong, but Stewart was clearly a great songwriter back then. His style was intelligent and impressive and it’s not easy to tell such vivid stories in pop songs. You can forgive him his innate laddishness when there’s such wit on display in the lyrics to You Wear It Well.

Unfortunately, it’s so similar to his previous number 1, you can’t help but compare, and despite a nice backing from the other Faces, it’s not as strong a song, and it’s lacking the bright sound of the mandolin. Nothing wrong with a song lacking a chorus, it’s a brave move, but this time around, it’s missing it.

The Outro

By the time Stewart had his third number 1 in 1975, he had changed record labels, moved to Los Angeles, and Faces had split.

The Info

Written by

Rod Stewart & Martin Quittenton

Producer

Rod Stewart

Weeks at number 1

1 (2-8 September)

Trivia

Births

6 September: Actor Idris Elba

305. Rod Stewart – Reason to Believe/Maggie May (1971)

The Intro

Sir Roderick David Stewart, aka ‘Rod the Mod’, was one of the biggest-selling artists of the 70s and 80s, with over 120 million records sold worldwide, and six number 1 singles. And yet his first chart-topper, Maggie May, was tucked away as a B-side. Were it not for its appeal shining through, Stewart may not have become as big a superstar as he did.

Before

Stewart was born at home in Highgate, London on 10 January 1945. He was the youngest of five children, the other four having been born in Leith, Edinburgh, Scotland, where his father Robert, a builder, came from. After he retired, Robert bought a newsagent’s shop, which the Stewart family lived above. His youngest’s main hobby, which he still loves, was railway modelling.

Stewart’s other big obsession was football, and he became captain of his school’s team. His first musical hero was Al Jolson, but he soon got into rock’n’roll, and he saw Bill Haley & His Comets in concert. In 1960 he joined a skiffle group called The Kool Kats, and would play Lonnie Donegan covers.

Stewart left school at 15 and had various jobs working in the family shop, as a silk screen printer and at a cemetery, but he longed to be a professional footballer. In 1961 he decided to try his hand at singing, and along with The Raiders he auditioned for eccentric producer Joe Meek, but he wasn’t impressed.

Soon after, Stewart turned into a left-wing beatnik, listening to the folk music of Bob Dylan, Ewan MacColl and Woody Guthrie and attending protest marches, getting arrested three times between 1961 and 1963. He later confessed he often used the marches as a way of bedding girls. In 1962 he took to playing the harmonica and would busk at Leicester Square with folk singer Wizz Jones. They took their act to Europe, and Stewart found himself deported from Spain for vagrancy in 1963. Around this time, he was considered as a singer for The Kinks, then known as The Ray Davies Quartet.

Later that year he became a full-on Mod, adopting his trademark spiky hairstyle and becoming enthralled with soul and R’n’B music. He found his first professional job as a musician in The Dimensions. This was his introduction to London’s R’n’B scene, where he would take harmonica tips from Mick Jagger.

In January 1964 the 19-year-old had been to a Long John Baldry gig and was playing harmonica at Twickenham Station when Baldry himself heard him and invited him to join his group. Over time, Stewart overcame shyness and would dress up more, and would sometimes be billed as Rod ‘the Mod’ Stewart. He made his recording debut with Baldry and the Hoochie Coochie Men that June, uncredited. Two months later, after a performance at the Marquee Club, he was signed as a solo act to Decca Records. His debut single was the blues standard, with a terribly dodgy title, Good Morning Little Schoolgirl, which featured John Paul Jones among the session musicians.

Baldry’s group broke up, but he and Stewart patched up their differences and in 1965 became part of the line-up of new group Steampacket alongside Brian Auger. Steampacket were conceived as a white soul revue, and while supporting The Rolling Stones he had his first taste of crowd hysteria. Due to all being signed to different labels, Stewart’s group were unable to record any material. His solo career continued, but without making much impact. In 1966 he jumped ship from Steampacket to Shotgun Express, whose line-up included future Fleetwood Mac members Peter Green and Mick Fleetwood.

It was The Jeff Beck Group that finally gave Stewart his break when he joined their ranks in February 1967. He formed a long-lasting friendship with guitarist Ronnie Wood, began writing material, and his vocal technique developed into the rough rasp that made him stand out. However, he and Beck didn’t get on, and when Wood was announced as Steve Marriott’s replacement in Small Faces in June 1969, Stewart joined him a few months after as their new singer, and they became Faces.

At the same time, Stewart was making inroads with his solo career. Now with Mercury Records, he released his first album, An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down, a mix of well-received original material and rock, folk and blues covers.

1970 saw the release of both Faces’ debut LP First Step and his solo follow-up Gasoline Alley, which introduced the mandolin to his sound. Faces quickly amassed a dedicated following at their gigs, and Stewart was one single release away from becoming a household name. The plan was for (Find a) Reason to Believe to be the first single from his forthcoming album, Every Picture Tells a Story, with Maggie May as the B-side.

Reviews

Reason to Believe (the bracketed bit dropped upon its single release) was the final track on the accompanying album. It’s a cover of a Tim Hardin track, which the folk singer had released on his debut album in 1965, and The Carpenters covered it in 1970.

Stewart plays the wounded lover, whose girl has lied to him. His gravelly voice suits the song well, and there’s some nice Hammond organ and piano work courtesy of Faces’ Ian McLagan. It’s a good album track, but it was never going to light up the charts the way its flip side did. So much so, the single became a double A-side as word spread.

Stewart has rather pissed away his potential over the years, and growing up in the 80s, I saw him as a ridiculous figure. However, Maggie May is a classic, and it’s the best number 1 he’s had. There’s no chorus, but it’s a compelling story, with a memorable mandolin intro courtesy of Lindisfarne’s Ray Jackson.

Rod the Mod had been inspired to write the song while working out some chords with guitarist Martin Quittenton of Steamhammer. He recalled his experience of losing his virginity in 1961 to an older woman at the Beaulieu Jazz Festival. The song isn’t named after her though. Stewart took it from the old Liverpool folk song about a prostitute (as briefly heard on The Beatles album Let It Be). Amazingly, you can see him taking part in the event here. The festival, not the self-confessed very brief sex… Also on the recording, which was only added to the album at the last minute, are Wood on bass and 12-string, McLagan and drummer Micky Waller, who played a drumkit with no cymbals, which were added later.

The original version of Stewart’s song opened side two of Every Picture Tells a Story with a 30-second guitar intro from Quittenton, named Delilah. In full, it’s over five minutes long, but the single edit cuts off some of the detail.

However, Stewart’s tale of love for an older woman remains fascinating. He gets you interested right from the start with those famous opening lines, revealing he was in fact a schoolboy when he was sleeping with Maggie. More mature than your average love song, Stewart finds time to insult Maggie only to remind her how deep he feels about her before she has chance to slap him:

‘The morning sun, when it’s in your face really shows your age
But that don’t worry me none in my eyes, you’re everything’

Stewart resolves to get over May by, among other things, joining a ‘rock’n’roll band’ (mission accomplished), and although he claims he wishes he’d never seen her face, you don’t believe him, and as that beautiful mandolin rings out over the fade, you’re left wondering what happened to the singer that wrote such a great song.

After

A song that’s taken on new meaning to me of late, as my in-laws fell in love when this was in the charts (Maggie was my father-in-law’s name for his future wife) and it was played at his funeral, 48 years later. It’s difficult to listen to anymore without welling up.

The Outro

Maggie May established Stewart both here and in the US, reaching number 1 in both while he also held the number 1 album spots – a rare feat. Above you can see the famous Top of the Pops appearance of the song, in which he’s backed by his Faces bandmates and Radio 1 DJ John Peel miming the mandolin.

The Info

Written by:

Reason to Believe: Tim Hardin/Maggie May: Rod Stewart & Martin Quittenton

Producer

Rod Stewart

Weeks at number 1

5 (9 October-12 November)

Births

9 October: Fashion photographer Simon Atlee
13 October:
Comedian Sasha Baron Cohen
16 October:
Big Brother winner Craig Phillips
30 October:
Actor John Alford
3 November:
Archer Alison Williamson
8 November: Footballer Michael Jeffrey

Deaths

11 November: Independent MP AP Herbert

Meanwhile…

13 October: The British Army began destroying roads between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland as a security measure.

21 October: 20 people were killed in a gas explosion in the town centre of Clarkston, East Renfrewshire in Scotland.

23 October: When a car failed to stop at a Belfast checkpoint, Mary Ellen Meehan, 30, and her sister Dorothy Maguire, 19 were shot dead by soldiers.

28 October: Prime Minister Edward Heath scored a big victory when the House of Commons voted in favour of joining the EEC by a vote of 356-244.
Also on this day, the Immigration Act 1971 restricted immigration, particularly primary immigration into the U.K. and introduced the status of right of abode into law.
Plus, the UK became the sixth nation to launch a satellite into orbit using its own launch vehicle, the Prospero (X-3) experimental communications satellite.

30 October: The Democratic Unionist Party was founded by the formidable Reverend Ian Paisley in Northern Ireland.

31 October: A bomb, likely planted by the Angry Brigade, exploded at the top of London’s Post Office Tower.

10 November: The 10-route Spaghetti Junction motorway interchange was opened north of Birmingham’s city centre. The interchange would have a total of 12 routes when the final stretch of the M6 was opened in 1972.