In some ways, early 80s pop was progressive. New romantics were blurring the gender lines and make up was worn by many men in music videos. But then you have this example of cultural appropriation set to an admittedly very catchy tune. But understandably, Scottish folk singer Mary Sandeman, AKA one-hit wonder Aneka, would rather forget Japanese Boy.
Before
Sandeman, born 20 November 1948 in Edinburgh, had released her first record on Thistle Records in 1965. Memories of the Mod wasn’t a Who-inspired record – it was a short selection of traditional Gaelic ballads, that she most likely sang at The Royal National Mòd, which was a Celtic version of the Welsh Eisteddfod.
A few more singles followed, and in 1979 Sandeman released her first album, Introducing Mary Sandeman, on Fleet. Sandeman was working with songwriter and producer Bob Heatlie, and expressed an interest in recording a commercial pop song. Heatlie was sceptical that Sandeman was suited to this, and so he put off the idea, despite constant reminders from Sandeman. Eventually, the frustrated singer told Heatlie she had set up an appointment to record a demo of his non-existent song. Heatlie cobbled together an oriental-sounding chorus with snippets of lyrics from previous material.
The demo of Japanese Boy was rejected by Berlin-based Hansa Records several times, but eventually they were signed. The duo figured Sandeman would need a new look, more in keeping with the song, and so they dressed her in a kimono and wig. And she would need a more fitting name, too, so they leafed through a German telephone directory. They liked ‘Anika’, but Sandeman insisted she became ‘Aneka’, as a link to her surname. The fact that this was a German name, not Japanese, didn’t seem to matter to them – or record buyers, for that matter.
Japanese Boy was released in July and soon climbed the charts, eventually toppling Green Door at the end of August.
Review
Conflicting feelings here. The politically correct me thinks Japanese Boy is a terribly dated song that should be consigned to history – which may well be how Aneka feels, considering she’s never attempted to go back to it. A Scottish folk singer, dressed up as a geisha, pretending to be Japanese, is really not a good look in 2024. The lyrics are pretty poor too – they read like something a teenager writing their first song might come up with.
But, but, but. It really is catchy as hell. Incredibly so. There’s hook upon hook here – however cliched they might be. The production is also great, sounding surprisingly modern for a 1981 potboiler. This is one of the most infectious number 1s of 1981 so far, which is amazing really, considering its up against some of the greatest chart-toppers of the decade. Both my daughters, 12 and nine, also now love it, despite the eldest understanding how tacky and dated the concept is. I would argue Japanese Boy deserves to be better known – but it’s incredibly obvious why it isn’t in this day and age.
The video to Japanese Boy is a bit of a disappointment, as I’d have hoped for some kind of terrible Carry On-style short film based around Aneka searching far and wide for her guy. Instead, it’s simply Aneka stood against a primitive backdrop. This Top of the Pops appearance, featuring backing dancers waving around Japanese paper parasols.
After
Japanese Boy was only number 1 for a week, but Hansa Records tried to capitalise, by commissioning an album. However, nothing else from the LP charted, including the unusual follow-up, Little Lady, for which Aneka dropped the oriental look and became an aristocratic lady. This clip is an interesting watch. Then came Ooh Shooby Doo Doo Lang, a total change of tack, in which Aneka sang from the point of view of a singer permanently relegated to backing vocals. It drops the early electro styles of the last two singles, and sounds more like a comedy song from The Two Ronnies. Although both Little Lady and Ooh Shooby Doo Doo Lang did quite well around Europe, they sank in the UK.
Sandeman, a mother of two young children at the time, was smart and continued to perform traditional material, performing at the Edinburgh Festival the night she went to number 1. Two more Aneka singles followed – Heart to Beat and Rose, Rose, I Love You, over the next two years, but Sandeman then dropped the name. She gave up music for good in the 90s.
In 2006, Justin Lee Collins tried to get Sandeman to take part in a performance of one-hit wonders for Channel 4, but she refused. She was interviewed by The Daily Record in 2011, who reviewed she was working as a tour guide in Stirling.
The Outro
Japanese Boy was rejected in Japan for sounding too Chinese. Heatlie went on to write for Shakin’ Stevens, and was the man behind his 1985 festive number 1, Merry Christmas Everyone.
The Info
Written by
Bobby Heatlie
Producer
Neil Ross
Weeks at number 1
1 (29 August-4 September)
Trivia
Births
2 September: Cricketer Chris Tremlett 3 September: Television presenter Fearne Cotton
Deaths
29 August: Billiards player Joyce Gardner/Radiologist James Ralston Kennedy Paterson 30 August: Actress Rita Webb 31 August: Motorcycle racer Dave Potter 3 September: Novelist Alec Waugh
Meanwhile…
1 September: Filling stations started selling motor fuel by the litre.
The UK singles chart of early 1981 was in a strange state of flux. John Lennon’s murder had understandably turned much of the top 10 into a shrine, with three posthumous chart-toppers. At the same time, Lennon’s fans suffered the indignation of seeing his records be overtaken in the hit parade not once (There’s No One Quite Like Grandma), but twice, by novelty songs. And the type of novelty songs that are retrograde, screaming ’70s or earlier’, rather than displaying any sign of the new, youthful pop of the 80s that was (thankfully) right around the corner. This time around, it was one-hit wonder Joe Dolce Music Theatre’s Shaddap You Face. Yep. That one.
Before
Joseph Dolce was born 13 October 1947 in Painesville, Ohio. He was the eldest of three children to Italian-American parents. In his senior year at Thomas W Harvey High School, Dolce got the acting bug, playing the lead role of Mascarille in Molière’s Les Précieuses Ridicules, and he also created a song based on material in the script. One of his co-stars, the Canadian Carol Dunlop, introduced Dolce to folk music and poetry.
From 1965 to 1967, Dolce majored in architecture at Ohio University. While there he formed several bands, including country rock act Headstone Circus, who released the album Please Tell a Friend in 1968. One member, Jonathan Edwards, had a US hit with Sunshine in 1971.
By 1974, Dolce was performing a mix of poetry and rock along the US east coast. Four years later he relocated to Melbourne, Victoria in Australia. His first single, in 1979, was Boat People, a protest song about the poor treatment of the growing community of Vietnamese refugees in the city.
That same year saw the formation of Joe Dolce Music Theatre. This revue toured cabarets and pubs with various line-ups, including Dolce playing a character he called Guiseppe. Among the songs he performed was Shaddap You Face, based on his memories of childhood (‘Just about the eighth grade’), where parents and grandparents would often speak in broken English. Audiences loved the story of Guiseppe and his dreams of stardom, answering his bossy mum back with the song’s title. So much so in fact, that drunken crowds began cheering ‘Heh” inbetween each chorus line.
Shaddap You Face was recorded and released in late 1980 by Australian musician Mike Brady’s label Full Moon Records, who correctly predicted a monster hit.
Review
My opinion on Shaddap You Face is divided. Clearly, we’re not talking about high art here. Dolce’s one-hit wonder is catchy to the point of extreme irritation. The over-the-top Italian-American accent is annoying and highly cliched, annoyingly shifting between spoken word and singing, and the tune is simplistic in the extreme, never shifting a gear. In a pop climate that was about to erupt with Adam and the Ants and the New Romantics, Shaddap You Face belongs in the 70s along with other novelty number 1s like Kung Fu Fighting (which is highly superior). It’s also a good example of the UK’s obsession with distilling an entire country and its culture into a silly song. So no wonder it was huge here.
However, Dolce is rather charming, so it’s also simultaneously hard to dislike, too. The accordion adds a nice touch of authenticity, and the story the song tells is rather sweet. Grown-ups doubt loved the breezy, infectious tune, while children relished the chance of shouting ‘Ah, shaddap you face’ to their parents. As novelty number 1s go, there’s much worse out there – and how many feature an accordion solo?
The official video is filmed in a smoky club full of nonplussed people, until the end, when Dolce successfully urges the audience to shout ‘Heh’, until a weird guy in sunglasses brings proceedings to a sudden halt by throwing a pizza at the singer.
After
Shaddap You Face was massive, becoming number 1 in the UK and 11 other countries – though, perhaps surprisingly, not in the US. Whether deliberate or not, beloved DJ Terry Wogan played a part in the UK success by spinning the record on his show, proclaiming it to be the worst thing he’d ever heard. Bit rich, when you consider The Floral Dance. It kept Ultravox’s Vienna from number 1 in the UK, and became Australia’s best-selling single ever, ironically usurping UpThere Cazaly by Brady.
Dolce turned his back on comedy songs, forming several performance groups with Lin Van Hek, including Skin the Wig and Difficult Women. In 1984 the duo wrote Intimacy, which became the final track on the original soundtrack to The Terminator. Dolce also became an actor, starring in the Australian comedy Blowing Hot and Cold (1988). Since 2009 he has been a successful, award-winning poet.
The Outro
I’m very happy to report that writing this blog helped me become reacquainted with a bastardised version of Shaddap You Face, used in a 1990 advert for McCain Pizza Slices.
The Info
Written by
Joe Dolce
Producers
Joe Dolce & Ian McKenzie
Weeks at number 1
3 (21 February-13 March)
Trivia
Deaths
22 February: Olympic athlete Guy Butler 25 February: Labour politician Mary Sykes 26 February: Conservationist Robert Aickman/Actor Gerald Cross/Actor Robert Tonge 28 February: Carry On screenwriter Talbot Rothwell 1 March: Welsh Congregationalist Minister Martin Lloyd-Jones 4 March: Chess player Nancy Elder/TV producer Ian Engelmann/Actor Torin Thatcher 5 March: Artist Winifred Nicholson/Actress Totti Truman Taylor 6 March: Cricketer George Geary/Actor Garry Marsh/Motorcycle racer Roland Stobbart 8 March: Conservative MP Nigel Birch, Baron Rhyl/Biologist Joseph Henry Woodger 10 March: Composer Bill Hopkins 11 March: Intelligence chief Sir Maurice Oldfield 12 March: Newspaper proprietor William Denholm Barnetson 13 March: Writer Wrey Gardiner/Industrialist Sir Patrick Hennessy/Author Robin Maugham, 2nd Viscount Maugham
Meanwhile…
21 February: 30,000 people in Glasgow march in an unemployment protest.
24 February: The engagement of Charles, Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer is announced.
26 February: The England cricket team withdraws from the Second Test when the Guyanese government serves a deportation order on Robin Jackman.
27 February: Two-time former Labour Prime Minister Sir Harold Wilson announces he is to retire from Parliament at the next general election. Also on this day, The Archbishop of Canterbury to view homosexuality as a handicap, not a sin. Jesus.
3 March: The first Homebase DIY and garden centre superstore opens in Croydon, Surrey.
5 March: The ZX81 (my first ever computer) is launched by Sinclair Research.
9 March: Lorry driver John Lambe is sentenced to life imprisonment for the rape of 12 women. Also on the day, thousands of civil servants hold a one-day strike over pay.
One-hit wonders Brian and Michael, aka Michael Coleman and Kevin Parrott (I’ll explain) toppled Kate Bush from her deservedly lofty perch with this tribute to Lancashire artist LS Lowry’s depictions of the industrial north west. Yes, Don McLean wasn’t the only singer to immortalise a painter in a number 1 song.
Before
Brian and Michael started out as members of a Stax-style soul band called The Big Sound who toured Europe in the 60s. In 1976, the comedy musical duo Berk & Jerk began, consisting of Coleman and Brian Burke, who had both been part of The Big Sound. Parrott, who had also been in the band, had become lead guitarist with Manchester rock band Oscar. The trio remained friends.
Coleman and Burke penned Matchstalk Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs (Lowry’s Song) as a tribute to the artist, who had died in 1976. Lowry painted matchstick men and matchstick cats and dogs, offering a unique view of life in the working class north. His paintings were very stylised, casting no shadows and featuring little personal detail, using only five colours. Why this song refers to them as being ‘matchstalk’ rather than ‘matchstick’, I have no idea.
At some point Burke & Jerk decided to become Brian and Michael instead (though they also used their old name on the record sleeve). They took this song to Parrott, who borrowed around £1,000 to record the song at Pluto Studios in Stockport. The studio, owned by former Herman’s Hermits rhythm guitarist Keith Hopwood, was in the same building as 10 cc’s Strawberry Studios. Matchstalk Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs was recorded over three sessions, beginning on 25 September 1977. Brian and Michael were backed by Tintwistle Brass Band, from the Derbyshire village where Parrott lived at the time and St Winifred’s School Choir.
Parrott tried and failed several times over to get the single released but eventually he managed a deal with Pye Records. It was released on 25 September but within weeks Burke decided to quit. As the record slowly but surely gained traction, Parrott found himself cast as ‘Brian’. Back in the 70s, singles could take ages to climb the charts. Here’s a very good example – this took five months to top the charts.
Review
Matchstalk Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs, not to be confused with the one Status Quo song that doesn’t sound like all their others, is one of those strange chart-toppers that could only have happened in the 70s or early 80s. Fair play to the duo/trio for writing a song about a surrealist northern artist as it’s certainly an unusual subject matter for a hit. But they overdo the ‘Ay up love, it’s grim up north, t’int it?’ image too much. To me, Lowry’s work shows the north in a realistic way, cold and grey, and by giving the figures little in the way of personality, he portrays the working class the way many saw them – as unimportant, identical figures. Brian and Michael go overboard, turning the north into one big caricature. ‘He painted Salford’s smoky tops/On cardboard boxes from the shops’ is true, but there’s no need to sound so happy about it, that’s a pretty grim lyric really!
The use of the choir is also too much. They join the duo on the chorus, which is fine, but there’s no need for them to also sing the children’s song The Big Ship Sails on the Alley-Alley-O towards the end. It’s sickly. And we know there was more to come from St Winifred’s School Choir. Though a spin-off LP, The Matchstalk Children, sank, they returned to delight and horrify the nation in equal measure with the 1980 Christmas number 1 There’s No One Quite Like Grandma.
After
Brian and Michael’s follow-up Evensong was a failure and so was the album The Matchstalk Men and second album I Can Count My Friends on One Hand. Coleman did however win an Ivor Novello for the Lowry tribute however, for The Outstanding Lyric of the Year.
Both Coleman and Parrott remained in the music business. Most notably, the former wrote and latter produced It’s ‘Orrible Being in Love (When You’re 8½), a number 13 hit in 1986 for Claire and Friends, a young schoolgirl and her mates from, you guessed it, St Winifred’s School Choir.
The Outro
In 2002, Coleman and Parrott became Brian and Michael once more, performing a reunion concert with the original St Winifred’s choir at Manchester’s Lowry Centre. 10 years later they formed The Matchstalk Men with Parrott’s brother Nigel on drums and Coleman’s brother Tim as lead vocalist. The line-up has changed since but the one-hit wonders remain, performing material from their two albums and hits from other acts from the 50s and 60s.
The Info
Written by
Michael Coleman & Brian Burke
Producer
Kevin Parrott
Weeks at number 1
3 (8-28 April)
Trivia
Births
9 April:S Club 7 singer Rachel Stevens 21 April: Cricketer Carl Greenidge 24 April: Field hockey goalkeeper Beth Storry
23 April: Nottingham Forest won the Football League First Division title for the first time. Their manager Brian Clough, who guided their East Midlands rivals Derby County to the title six years previous. He became only the third manager in history to lead two different clubs to top division title glory.
Hailing from Detroit, Michigan, soul quartet The Floaters achieved one-hit wonder status very early in their careers with this novelty number 1. If you’re British and reading this, try and forget what you’d normally associate the word ‘floaters’ with…
Before
The group were formed in the Sojourner Truth housing projects by James Mitchell. He had been a singer in the Detroit Emeralds, who had scored a few hits earlier in the 70s. The line-up consisted of his baritone brother Paul and Larry Cunningham, Charles Clark and Ralph Mitchell (no relation) as tenors. They signed with ABC Records in 1976 and released debut single I Am So Glad I Took My Time to little fanfare. It closed their eponymous LP, released the following year. Most of the album was written by James, with fellow Detroit Emerald Marvin Willis and Arnold Ingram.
The version of Float On that opens the album is nearly 12 minutes long, with intros from each singer and their star signs. The music then, well, floats on languidly for half the track with the group singing the title. It’s the second half that was edited down to around four minutes that’s the much more well-known single.
Review
So Float On is understandably considered a bit of a joke. It’s very cheesy and camp, with each singer introducing themselves as if they’re taking part in video dating. It is considered all-important by The Floaters that all the ladies out there know their horoscope, which I assume was very popular in the 70s.
First up is Ralph, an Aquarius. He loves women who love their freedom. How kind of him. But they must also be able to hold their own. Charles is a Libra. He’s into quiet women who resemble ‘Miss Universe’, who will take him in their strong arms and say ‘Charles’. I guess for Charles, actions speak louder than words. Paul is a Leo, and he’s not fussy. He likes ‘all women of the world’ because they’re like ‘wild flowers’, if you know what he’s saying. I’m not sure I do, Paul? Last of the Lotharios is Larry, a Cancer. He likes women that love ‘everything and everybody’, because he loves ‘everybody and everything’. Can you try and elaborate further, Larry?
I’m ridiculing the lyrics to Float On, as most people do. But the fact is, it’s set to really beautiful music, particularly on the full version, where it gets chance to breathe properly. Take away the video dating and star signs, and it’s actually pretty cool and sexy. As a single though, the silliness smothers it, which is a shame. The music here is crying out to be sampled.
After
The Floaters only hit went to the top in the UK and New Zealand and two in the US. Nobody took them seriously after Float On though, and they never charted again properly. They did reach 28 on the Billboard R&B chart with their follow-up, a cover of Dusty Springfield’s You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me though. The Floaters had the dubious honour of being spoofed by British comedy troupe The Barron Knights on their hit Live In Trouble.
Our romantic heroes recorded another album for ABC, Magic, in 1978. They then moved to MCA for 1979’s Float into the Future. Their final album was Get Ready for the Floaters & Shu-Ga, released on Fee/WP in 1981.
The Outro
Like all good novelty hits, the song was used in an advert in the UK. Float On was rewritten for a memorable early-90s advert for Cadbury’s Creme Eggs. Produced by (I think) Aardman Animations, clay versions of the star signs tell us how they eat theirs. Taken the wrong way, it’s actually pretty filthy at times.
Manhattan Transfer were, like many chart-toppers of the 70s, in thrall to the past. But they went further back then the rock’n’roll retro bands like Showaddywaddy. They paid tribute to swing, jazz and acapella music. Surprisingly, the second incarnation of the group found themselves at number 1 in the UK for three weeks in the early spring of 1977.
Before
Founder member of both versions of the group was Tim Hauser. He had dabbled in doo-wop in his youth but moved into a career in advertising. Then in 1969 he formed The Manhattan Transfer. Named after a novel by John Dos Passos, set in New York City at the dawn of the Jazz Age. The original line-up also featured Erin Dickins, Marty Nelson, Pat Rosalita and Gene Pistilli. Signing to Capitol Records, they released one album, Jukin’ in 1971. Unlike the later incarnation, the quintet also covered rock and country genres. Capitol declined to release another LP and The Manhattan Transfer split up.
In 1972 Hauser was working as a taxi driver in New York when waitress Laurel Massé got into his cab. They got talking about music and it transpired she had ambitions to make it big. Hauser clearly hadn’t given up on his dream either. Soon after he met jazz singer Janis Siegel at a party. She had recorded a single as a member of Young Generation (not Engelbert Humperdinck’s mates) and had been a member of folk trio The Loved Ones. An idea began to form and Hauser decided to invite Massé and Siegel to be members of a new Manhattan Transfer and they recorded some demos before starting live performances.
Among the crowd at one of the early shows was session drummer Roy Markowitz, who had played with Don McLean. Markowitz was part of the band in the Broadway version of a hit musical called Grease and he suggested one of the cast members could be a good fit for The Manhattan Transfer. Alan Paul, who played both Johnny Casino and the Teen Angel, agreed to join their ranks. Markowitz produced a demo and sent it to Ahmet Ertegun at Atlantic Records and he agreed to sign them. Their eponymous LP was released in 1975, featuring bona fide jazz musicians including trumpeter Randy Brecker. They were an instant success in the US, with debut single Operator reaching 22. That same year they hosted a four-week series on CBS. A cover of 30s jazz tune Tuxedo Junction was their first taste of UK fame – it peaked at 24 in 1976. That summer they released the album Coming Out, which featured Chanson D’Amour, which has a connection to one of the very first UK number 1s. The LP featured a certain Ringo Starr, Jim Keltner and Dr John.
Chanson D’Amour, French for ‘Love Song’, had been written by US songwriter and producer Wayne Shanklin, who gave it to Art and Dotty Todd in 1958. The husband-and-wife duo had charted in the UK in 1953 with the original version of Broken Wings. It went to six, but a cover by vocal group The Stargazers became the first UK number 1 by a British group later that year. The older generation, somewhat frightened and unsure about rock’n’roll, loved this taste of more gentle times and it was a big hit.
Acclaimed producer Richard Perry worked with Manhattan Transfer on Coming Out, and he liked their demo of Chanson D’Amour. They recorded their number 1 version in one take, featuring Siegel on lead. Backing the group were John Barnes on piano (not that John Barnes), Steve Paietta on accordion, Ira Newborn and Ben Benay on guitar, Andy Muson on bass and Jim Gordon on drums.
Review
I have never enjoyed this track. And that’s for not one, but two reasons. Siegel’s vocal is so over-the-top it’s painful. She’s trying to sound like Edith Piaf but comes across more like Edith Artois in sitcom ‘Allo! ‘Allo!. Every syllable is stretched out interminably. And then there’s the ‘rat-a-tat-a-tat’. My god, it’s irritating. It’s not even amusing to me as a ‘so bad it’s good’-style novelty number 1. Not a lot else to say, really. The most interesting aspect is the fact it’s produced by Perry, making it his second UK number 1 in a row, as it toppled his first, When I Need You by Leo Sayer.
After
Despite its success in the UK and in many other countries, Chanson D’Amour was only a moderate hit in the States. Further UK hits followed in Blighty, including Walk In Love (number 12) and On a Little Street in Singapore (number 20), both in 1978. The following year Massé was involved in a car accident and left the group, to be replaced by Cheryl Bentyne. The single Twilight Zone/Twilight Tone went to 25 in 1980. Also on its accompanying album, Extensions, was Birdland, an instrumental by Weather Report, which now had lyrics and earned Siegel a Grammy for Best Jazz Fusion Performance. In 1981 their version of The Boy from New York City was a big hit Stateside, climbing to seven, and they won a Grammy for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal. A version of A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square won the Grammy for Best Vocal Arrangement for Two or More Voices. And there were more. Until I Met You (Corner Pocket) saw them pick up the Grammy for Best Jazz Vocal Performance by a Duo or Group. And then in 1982 – Route 66 won them the Best Jazz Vocal Performance, Duo or Group. Impressive stuff.
Manhattan Transfer’s last charting single was Spice of Life, written by former Heatwave member and Michael Jackson collaborator Rod Temperton. It peaked at 19 in the UK. Yet more Grammy nominations and wins were to come, though. 1985 album Vocalese had 12 nominations – at the time second only to Thriller for most nominated single album ever. It won two – Best Jazz Vocal Performance, Duo or Group, and Best Arrangement for Voices. In 1987 their album Brasil won Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal. No more albums released until 1991’s The Offbeat of Avenues. Its track Sassy won a Grammy in 1992 for Best Contemporary Jazz Performance, Instrumental. It was their 10th.
The Outro
The rest of the 90s saw the acclaim slide but Manhattan Transfer diversify, with The Christmas Album in 1992 and children’s album The Manhattan Transfer Meets Tubby the Tuba in 1995. They continued through the 00s with material like The Symphony Sessions, a collection of orchestral reworkings of previous material and The Chick Corea Songbook in 2009. This was their last album for nine years, as health problems crept up on the members. Original member Rosalia died in 2011. Bentyne left several times to battle Hodgkin’s lymphoma, replaced first by Margaret Dorn in 2011, then Katie Campbell in 2014. Hauser, the founder member and only person to bridge both incarnations, passed away in 2014 of cardiac arrest. He was replaced by Trist Curless. Pistilli died in 2017. The following year Manhattan Transfer’s last album to date, The Junction, was released.
The Info
Written by
Wayne Shanklin
Producer
Richard Perry
Weeks at number 1
3 (12 March-1 April)
Trivia
Deaths
26 March: Composer Madeleine Doing 1 April: Partitioner of India Cyril Radcliffe, 1st Viscount Radcliffe
Meanwhile…
14 March: The government reveals inflation has pushed prices up by nearly 70% within three years.
15 March: Car manufacturers British Leyland announce their intention to dismiss 40,000 toolmakers who have gone on strike at the company’s plant in Birmingham.
23 March: The government wins a vote of no confidence after Prime Minister James Callaghan strikes a deal with David Steel, the leader of the Liberal Party.
Ask anyone to name a novelty song from the 70s and I’d wager The Combine Harvester (Brand New Key) would get a lot of mentions. It’s often given as an example of the Great British Public’s eccentric sense of humour and on this occasion I applaud the people who took it to number 1 for a fortnight as the long hot summer of 1976 began. In fact, so poor has the collection of chart-toppers in 1976 been thus far, this Wurzels single is the best yet.
Before
The Wurzels didn’t always specialise in comic covers. They were initially a backing group for Somerset singer-songwriter Adge Cutler, performing ‘Scrumpy and Western’ folk songs from 1966 onwards in pubs across the region, where they would often record live albums. The single Drink Up Thy Zider, released at the end of that year, got them noticed nationally. Originally the line-up featured Brian Walker, Reg Quantrill, John Macey and Reg Chant. Their name, coined by Cutler, is short for ‘mangelwurzel’, a crop grown to feed livestock.
In 1967 the Scrumpy & Western EP that spawned the male of their genre was released, and the band’s line-up began chopping and changing. At the end of that year Scotsman Tommy Banner joined as their accordionist. Further singles included the curiously titled Up The Clump in 1968 and Ferry to Glastonbury a year later. Tony Baylis joined the group in 1969 as their bassist and tuba player in time for their fourth album Carry On Cutler. 1972 saw Bristolian banjoist Pete Budd become a Wurzel, but eventually a tragic event meant he stepped up to become frontman.
Returning alone from a gig in Hereford in May 1974, Cutler fell asleep at the wheel of his sports car. It overturned at a roundabout approaching the Severn Bridge, and Cutler was killed. This left the grieving Budd, Banner and Baylis with the question of whether to continue as The Wurzels. They decided Budd would become their new singer. The album The Wurzels Are Scrumptious! was released in 1975 and was a mix of reworkings of old songs and Cutler tracks that had never been made before. Among the songs was a cover of Pat Boone’s 1962 hit Speedy Gonzales, which they ‘Wurzelled-up’. Without Cutler to write them material, perhaps this was where their future career lay?
Fortunately for them, it had been proven already that this could make them go mainstream. Despite popular belief, it wasn’t The Wurzels idea to turn Melanie’s folk song Brand New Key into a rural knees-up. The original was Melanie’s biggest hit. Also known as ‘The Rollerskates Song’, this slightly fruity track went to number 1 in the US.
Irish comedian Brendan Grace, later known in the UK for his role as Father Fintan Stack in classic sitcom Father Ted, rewrote it asThe Combine Harvester, and it went to number 1 in Ireland but got nowhere over here. All The Wurzels needed to do was make a few lyrical changes here and there to make it more ‘Westcountry bumpkin’ and maybe they’d finally see some chart action?
Review
Yes, The Combine Harvester (Brand New Key) may seem unfunny and even offensive now by playing to a common insulting stereotype of Westcountry farmers. However, it’s very catchy, and everyone is having such a good time, it’s hard to take it as anything but a bit of knockabout old-fashioned fun. The site of Budd acting as dozy as possible, particularly in the official video above, knees open wide and sat on a hay bale, can’t help but raise a smile.
The well-trodden path of farms and sex puns are present ‘I drove my tractor through your haystack last night (ooh aah ooh aah)’ as Budd gets his wicked way with a wealthier landowner and wants to marry her (‘Aahh you’re a fine looking woman and I can’t wait to get me ‘ands on your land’). But for me the best bit is: ‘Weren’t we a grand couple at that last Wurzel dance/I wore brand new gaters and me cordouroy pants’… it’s the way he says that last word. Great stuff, and proof that novelty comedy records can stand the test of time.
After
Making hay while the sun shone, The Wurzels followed up their number 1 with I Am a Cider Drinker, a reworking of George Baker Selection’s Paloma Blanca. It soared to three in the charts. Also that year they released One for the Bristol City, which became the football team’s official anthem. 1977’s Farmer Bill’s Cowman reached 32. In a bid to cash in on the Dallas craze of 1980, they released I Hate JR followed by I Shot JR. In 1983, The Wurzels did hip-hop. I definitely want to hear The Wurzel Rap.
Changes were afoot in the line-up, as they gained a drummer in John Morgan in 1981, but lost Baylis two years later as he emigrated to New Zealand to become a chiropodist. He died in 2020.
One of the reasons I may have a soft spot for The Wurzels is the 80s adverts for Country Life butter. The long-running campaign featured cartoon butter men who sounded very similar to The Wurzels. They would laugh, joke, play music and proclaim ‘You’ll never get a better bit of butter on your knife’. Reminisce here.
Budd and Banner have toured with various line-ups as The Wurzels over these past few decades, with only sporadic recorded output. The 1988 single Sunny Weston-super-Mare was their last for seven years. Then in 1995 they celebrated the 25th anniversary of Eddie Stobart Ltd with the I Want To Be An Eddie Stobart Driver EP. The Combine Harvester 2001 Remix EP is their last material to chart (at 39).
The Outro
Their increasing popularity with students resulted in the album Never Mind The Bullocks, Ere’s The Wurzels, which featured covers of songs including Oasis’s Don’t Look Back in Anger. They forged an unlikely friendship with Reading alt-rockers British Sea Power, recording a version of their song Remember Me in 2006, while BSP covered I Am a Cider Drinker in return. Their cult following has resulted in many appearances at Glastonbury Festival over the years, and in 2010 they released their take on Kaiser Chiefs’ Ruby. COVID-19 has waylaid The Wurzels’ never-ending tour, and Budd and Banner must be a fair age now, but here’s hoping it’s just an enforced break.
The Info
Written by
Melanie Safka
Producer
Bob Barratt
Weeks at number 1
2 (12-25 June)
Trivia
Births
13 June:5ive singer Jason ‘J’ Brown 16 June: Super Furry Animals keyboardist Cian Ciaran 25 June: Rugby player Iestyn Harris
Meanwhile…
14 June: The trial of murderer Donald Neilson, aka the ‘Black Panther’, commenced at Oxford Crown Court.
23 June: One of the lengthiest and most memorable heatwaves in the UK began. For 15 consecutive days, until 7 July inclusive, temperatures reached 32.2C in London. It remains the second hottest summer average since records began.
‘The Big Yin’ had a number 1? Really? Yes, Glaswegian giant of comedy Sir Billy Connolly covered country icon Tammy Wynette’s break-up song, turned it into a ditty about his dog and topped the charts. How very 1975.
Before
To say Connolly came from humble beginnings is rather an understatement. William Connolly was born at home in Anderston, Glasgow on 24 November 1942. This home had no hot water, and he was bathed in the sink. His father was in Burma during the Second World War and afterwards, in 1946, his teenage mother abandoned him and his older sister Florence for a new man. Considering the circumstances at the time, he has never felt ill will towards his mother and said he would have done the same. They were raised by two aunts, but not happily, as they resented the children. His father eventually returned, and physically and sexually abused his son until he was 15.
Connolly did at least take solace in discovering the joy of being able to make people laugh while a young schoolboy of seven, and at 14 he fell in love with the music of Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry. He left school a year later with two engineering qualifications – one belonging to a boy named Connell. Taking up odd jobs until he was old enough to be an engineer, he was ruled overqualified and so he became a boilermaker at a shipyard. Shooting up in height as a teen, he soon towered over his father and earned the ‘Big Yin’ nickname.
In his late-teens during the early-60s Connolly attended the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and began modelling himself on the folk singers that performed there. Following jobs including building an oil platform in Nigeria, he decided to become a folk musician and bought a banjo. In 1965 he and guitarist Tam Harvey became The Humblebums and they began touring the pubs. In 1969 they were approached by a singer named Gerry Rafferty and they became a trio. After recording one album that year (First Collection of Merry Melodies), Harvey left. Connolly and Rafferty released two more albums before they split in 1971, with Rafferty going on to release, among others, Stuck in the Middle with You (with Stealers Wheel) and Baker Street.
So, Connolly was a folk singer on his own now, and he became known for his charismatic stage performances, where the introductions to the songs were as lengthy and entertaining as the music. In 1972 he made his comic debut with a revue called Connolly’s Glasgow Flourish. The Edinburgh Festival Fringe then beckoned, and his first solo album, Billy Connolly Live! was released, a mix of comedy and songs. But it was the 1973 double album Solo Concert that propelled Connolly to the mainstream. Sell-out gigs followed, and in 1975 came the first of a record 15 appearances on Parkinson, in which an edgy joke about bikes changed his life forever.
Connolly was by then signed with Polydor Records and had released The Welly Boot Song. Next up was a timely rewrite of Wynette’s 1968 hit D.I.V.O.R.C.E. Timely because she had just divorced George Jones and had been number 1 with Stand by Your Man, also from 1968. In the original, Wynette is heartbroken and determined not to tell her four-year-old-son that his dad will soon be elsewhere, so she spells out the word, and several others, including ‘C.U.S.T.O.D.Y’. It’s all very maudlin, so ripe for spoofing.
Review
Connolly made it about a dog that was going into ‘Q.U.A.R.A.N.T.I.N.E’ because it’s bitten him, caused he and his wife to have an argument, in which she bit his arse, and then the dog bit the vet too. As a result of which, Connolly has decided to get a D.I.V.O.R.C.E. Yes, all a bit silly really, and it hasn’t aged well at all. Held in by the need to make it family-friendly, Connolly doesn’t get the chance to be let off the leash. Although, there is the line ‘She sank her teeth in my B.U.M. and called me an effin C’. I’m guessing he’d say ‘cunt’ when performing this live. So without the shock element, it’s not very funny.
Also, why would you need to avoid saying ‘quarantine’ in front of a dog anyway? I mean, I know this isn’t meant to be realistic, but the whole thing is rather pointless, and isn’t helped by Connolly constantly bursting into laughter. You can’t deny Connolly has bucketloads of charm, but I don’t like to think of him seeming so smug about something so unfunny. I doubt you’d get away with the closing line of ‘Oh I must admit that dog is acting Q.U.E.R. queer’ these days either, but that’s with 45 years of hindsight.
After
Further similarly tame spoofs followed, including No Chance (the awful No Charge, originally) in 1976 and In the Brownies (yep, In the Navy) in 1979. He served as Elton John’s warm-up man on a US tour in 1976, but he bombed. By then he was living like a rock star himself, using cocaine and alcohol in large doses, and collapsed in a studio, and shocked comedian Pamela Stephenson with his self-destructive ways backstage in 1979. They fell in love and began an affair. That same year, Connolly became the first non-Oxbridge member of The Secret Policeman’s Ball.
As the 80s began Connolly was now concentrating almost solely on comedy. 1985 was to be an eventful year. He went teetotal, starred in the British film Water, sang the rollicking theme to Children’s ITV series Super Gran (released as a single) and divorced his first wife after four years separated. He also introduced Elton John at Live Aid. In 1989, Connolly and Stephenson married.
After several false starts, the Big Yin finally conquered the Big Apple and the rest of the US in the 90s. He starred in stand-up TV specials and landed a part in the sitcom Head of the Class and spin-off Billy. In 1994 World Tour of Scotland, for the BBC, followed the comedian around his home country, and spawned Billy Connolly’s World Tour of Australia a year later. He even provided his voice to a character in Disney’s Pocahontas (1995). Connolly was fast becoming a jack of all trades, and won critical acclaim and BAFTA nominations for his role in 1997 historical drama Queen Victoria, alongside Dame Judi Dench.
Further ‘World Tour’ series followed in the 00s, and roles in Hollywood films The Last Samurai (2003), Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004). He also voiced a character in Brave (2012) and starred in The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies in 2014.
The Outro
In 2013 Connolly announced that he had undergone minor surgery for prostate cancer, and was also in the early stages of Parkinson’s. Since then, the disease has progressed and has caused Connolly to retire from live stand-up, aged 78. Connolly has been a singer, artist, actor, playwright and boilermaker, but it his outrageous comedy for which he will be remembered mostly. Let’s hope he has many years left to enjoy his retirement.
Trivia
Written by
Billy Connolly
Producer
Phil Coulter
Weeks at number 1
1 (22-28 November)
Trivia
Deaths
25 November: Actress Moyna Macgill 27 November: Co-founder of the Guinness Book of Records Ross McWhirter (see below)
Meanwhile…
27 November: The Provisional IRA assassinated Ross McWhirter, co-founder with twin brother Norris of the Guinness Book of Records. He was shot dead for offering reward money to IRA informers.
Yes, your eyes don’t deceive you, that’s two characters from a BBC sitcom, up there, at number 1. For three whole weeks in the long, hot summer of 1975, Windsor Davies and Don Estelle, stars of, ironically, the Jimmy Perry and David Croft comedy It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, ruled the hit parade with a trad-pop ballad from 1940.
Before
Thanks to their Second World War sitcom Dad’s Army, Perry and Croft were one of the most successful comedy writing duos of the 70s. Their second series set in the period, It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum had begun in 1974. Set in the fictional village of Tin Min in Burma during the last months of the conflict, and chronicling the exploits of a Royal Artillery concert party, Perry and Croft were recalling their own experiences in the war. It was another huge success, running until 1981, but you’ll probably never see it repeated ever again. There’s a fair bit of homophobia directed at camp character Gunner ‘Gloria’ Beaumont (Melvyn Hayes) and one actor, Michael Bates, blacked-up to portray Indian Bearer Rangi Ram.
The most enduring character was Windsor Davies’ Battery Sergeant Major Tudor Bryn ‘Shut Up’ Williams, an imposing, ferocious officer, who hated how his troop were stage performers. So much so, he would often call them a ‘bunch of poofs’. Among his victims was Don Estelle’s diminutive Gunner ‘Lofty’ Harold Horace Herbert Willy Sugden, but even Sergeant Major Williams could not help but enjoy Lofty’s lovely tenor voice.
Davies was born in Canning Town, London on 28 August 1930, but the family returned to their roots in the Welsh village of Nant-y-Moel in 1940. After he left school he worked as a coal miner before undergoing National Service in Libya and Egypt between 1950 and 1952. He then moved into teaching but also got the acting bug, performing amateur dramatics before turning professional in 1961. He had his first film role in 1962 in The Pot Carriers, and television roles followed, often as figures of authority, and was a paid heavy in the Doctor Who story “The Evil of the Daleks” in 1967, and was a sailor in The Onedin Line in 1971.
When Davies got the job on It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, he based Sergeant Major Williams on his superiors during National Service. With his catchphrases of ‘Shut up!’, ‘Hello lovely boy’ and ‘Oh dear, how sad, never mind’, Davies somehow made a complete bastard rather lovable. When a cast spin-off album was made, putting Davies and Estelle together was a natural decision as they spent four years touring the clubs as a duo before they became famous.
Estelle was born Ronald Edwards on 22 May 1933 in Crumpsall, Manchester. At the age of eight he was evacuated to Darwen, Lancashire to escape the German bombing of the city. In Darwen he found his voice and became a boy soprano at his new local church, and continued to sing at his old one when he returned home. He joined local charity group the Manchester Minstrels and took part in a BBC Radio talent show in 1954. It was while working as a warehouse manager by day and performing in clubs by night that he first met Davies.
On days off he worked as an extra for Granada Television and made his TV debut throwing darts on Coronation Street. Arthur Lowe, then a regular on the soap, suggested to Estelle that he should contact Perry and Croft, and as a result he landed a bit part in Dad’s Army in 1969, returning a year later for several episodes. Measuring only 4ft 9, Estelle was the perfect man to cast for the ironically nicknamed Lofty, and next to the towering Davies, they made for a great mismatched pair.
Whispering Grass was a near-faithful cover of The Ink Spots version from 1940, but it was originally recorded by Erskine Hawkins & His Orchestra. Fred Fisher, a Tin Pan Alley songwriter, wrote it with his daughter Doris.
Review
This is understandably considered a novelty number 1, and is certainly a weird idea, especially for anyone not around at the time. However, once I got past Davies’ in-character recital of some of the lyrics, I was pleasantly surprised. Estelle really does have a lovely voice, and other than Davies popping up again in the middle briefly (and is he helping with the backing vocals?), it’s played completely straight and is very similar to The Ink Spots version. It’s a sweet, endearing tune, and it took me back to the early days of this blog when most of the songs I covered were of this ilk. Lovely, boys.
After
Such was the popularity of their Whispering Grass, the duo followed it up with a cover of The Mills Brothers’ Paper Doll, which just missed out on a chart placing. They also recorded a full album together, Sing Lofty, in 1976.
While It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum was at the peak of its popularity, drawing in audiences of 17 million, Davies also starred in Carry On Behind (1975) and Carry On England (1976), where he played… yes, another comically angry Sergeant Major. He also had a role in the 1978 Welsh rugby film Grand Slam.
Such was the unmistakably rich quality of Davies’ voice, he had no shortage of voiceover work when It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum ended in 1981. I will have likely first heard his dulcet tones on the children’s sci-fi series Terrahawks (1983), where he played… a sergeant major. He also provided voices in Paul McCartney’s Rupert and the Frog Song (1984) and an advert for Cadbury’s Wispa. From 1981 to 1991 he starred alongside Donald Sinden in the ITV sitcom Never the Twain, and in 1997 appeared in an episode of another Perry and Croft sitcom, Oh Doctor Beeching!. Davies retired in 2014 and moved to the south of France with his wife. He died on 17 January 2019, aged 88.
Estelle fared less well. After It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum was axed, he starred in a BBC adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and had small roles in the films A Private Function (1984) and Santa Claus: The Movie (1985). He formed Don Estelle Music Publishing and released cassettes of his recordings on his Lofty label for years to come, but disappeared into obscurity.
He cut a rather tragic figure towards the end of his life, performing in his Lofty outfit in shopping centres beside his tapes, and was understandably bitter, but perhaps unreasonable, that his most famous role would never be shown on TV again in repeats. There was a return to the small screen for him though, thanks to his appearance as Little Don in early episodes of The League of Gentlemen in 1999. In 2001 he played a dirty old man in Page 3 girl Jo Hicks’s cover of The Benny Hill Show theme Yakety Sax.
The Outro
Estelle spent the last few years of his life living in New Zealand, but he returned to the UK weeks before his death. He needed a liver transplant but was too ill to undergo it, and he died in Rochdale Infirmary on 2 August 2003. He was buried with the oversized pith helmet he wore as Lofty.
The Info
Written by
Fred & Doris Fisher
Producer
Walter J Ridley
Weeks at number 1
3 (7-27 June)
Trivia
Births
19 June:Rower Ed Coode
Deaths
27 June:Conservative MP Arthur Salter, 1st Baron Salter
Meanwhile…
8 June: Peter Samuel Cook, aka The Cambridge Rapist, was arrested after stabbing a young woman at a nurses’ hostel.
9 June: Parliament proceedings are broadcast on radio for the first time.
13 June: UEFA places a three-year ban on Leeds United from European competitions following the behaviour of their fans at last month’s European Cup final.
14 June: West Midlands Ambulance crews stage a ban on non-emergency calls in a dispute over pay and hours.
17 June: Leeds United lodge an appeal against their ban from European competitions.
19 June – A coroner’s court jury returns a verdict of wilful murder and names Lord Lucan as the murderer in the inquest on Sandra Rivett, the nanny who was found dead at his wife’s home in London seven months previously.
It’s an obvious fact that I’ve mentioned many times before, but what a weird barometer of taste the singles number 1s are. Just when I’m applauding record buyers for sending Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) to the top, it gets replaced by… this. A slushy spoken word cover of a Bread song (the second by David Gates, after Everything I Own), recited by Hollywood actor Telly Savalas, best known at the time for his iconic role in Kojak. Strange times.
Before
Aristotelis Savalas was born in Garden City, New York on 21 January 1922, the second of five children to ethnic Greek parents. As children, he and his brother Gus would sell newspapers and polish shoes to support their struggling family. Savalas could only initially speak Greek when he started school. After graduating from high school he worked as a beach lifeguard. Despite being an excellent swimmer he was unable to resuscitate a father who had drowned. His children watched on as their father died, and it affected Savalas so profoundly he spent the rest of his life promoting water safety.
Savalas was drafted into the United States Army in 1941 and served for two years before he was discharged following a car accident in which he was seriously injured. He spent more than a year in hospital with a broken pelvis, sprained ankle and concussion.
After the Second World War, Savalas moved into media, but not as an actor. He hosted radio shows and then became a director at ABC on news and sports programmes during the 50s. His move into acting was an accident. He was asked to recommend an actor capable of doing a European accent (a pretty vague question) and when the friend he suggested failed to turn up, Savalas covered for him, and made his debut on Armstrong Circle Theatre in 1958. He became in demand for the next few years as a guest star for programmes including Naked City.
Savalas made his film debut in Mad Dog Coll (1961), and received much acclaim for Birdman of Alcatraz a year later, getting nominated for an Academy Award and Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor. He was rapidly losing his hair, and chose to shave his head for his role in The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), remaining bald for the rest of his life. Some of his best-known work in the 60s included The Dirty Dozen (1967) and as Blofeld in the James Bond movie On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in 1969. That year he also had his first role as the lead in Crooks and Coronets.
He was already recording music before the role he became best known for, with his debut LP, This Is Telly Savalas… released in 1972. He leant his distinctive husky voice to easy listening covers of tracks including Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line.
Savalas first played Lt. Theodopolus “Theo” Kojak in the TV movie The Marcus–Nelson Murders on CBS in 1973. Based on true crime, Savalas went down a storm as Kojak, and five series were made between 1973 and 1978. A lot of the character’s eccentricities came from Savalas, including sucking on lollipops. The character’s catchphrase ‘Who loves ya baby?’ became one of the best remembered of the 70s, and Savalas won an Emmy and two Golden Globes for Best Actor in a Drama Series.
In 1974 Savalas recorded his second album, Telly. It was more of the same, this time produced by Snuff Garrett, a big name in the 60s. Among the covers this time around was a spoken word version of If, which had been a big hit for soft rockers Bread in the US in 1971, reaching number four. Bread were always more popular in the US than the UK, where it failed to chart.
Review
Savalas’s version is very similar… well, apart from the one glaring difference. Whether it was because he was never going to reach the high notes of Gates, or a stylistic choice, he chose to use his deepest, most sincere and meaningful voice and recite the lyrics instead over a melodramatic production. It’s… well, it’s not actually as awful as it sounds. There have been worse number 1s. It is laughably dated and terribly over-the-top though, and even taking into account how popular Kojak was at the time, this one is a mystery. Gates’s lyrics are reminiscent of Charles Aznavour’s She, which put its muse on a pedestal, making her an enigma and wonder. A certain type of record buyer clearly loved this Hallmark card style of tacky romance.
The video of Savalas performing If above makes for hilarious viewing. He’s stood, fag in hand, gazing at a giant face of a blonde woman, who looks scared and confused by him. I urge you to watch. They really don’t make them like this anymore. If shares the top spot for shortest number 1 title ever with 19 by Paul Hardcastle from 1985, fact fans.
After
Savalas released two more LPs in the 70s – Telly Savalas (1975) and Who Loves Ya Baby in 1976. Two years later he starred in Capricorn One, and Kojak was cancelled after five seasons. If wasn’t Savalas’s only amusing spoken word contribution to British culture. In recent years footage has resurfaced from three short films made for cinemas – Telly Savalas Looks at Portsmouth, Telly Savalas Looks at Aberdeen, and Telly Savalas Looks at Birmingham. All are unintentional comedy gold.
With Kojak no more, the late-70s and 80s were leaner times for its lead. He featured among all-star casts in The Poseidon Adventure in 1979 and Cannonball Run II in 1984 and had cameos in Tales of the Unexpected (1981) and The Equalizer (1987). From 1985 onwards there were TV movies that gave him the chance to reprise his most famous role, but they didn’t have the same impact as before.
The Outro
As the 80s became the 90s he found more time to indulge his many hobbies, including poker (he finished 21st in the 1992 World Series), golfing and collecting luxury cars. Savalas was also a philanthropist, and took a special interest in Greek causes. Back in the 70s, he had been the sponsor for bringing electricity to his ancestral home in Ierakas. Remembered fondly for his compassion and generosity, Savalas died on 22 January 1994, one day after he had turned 72. His final film, Backfire! was released posthumously a year later.
The Info
Written by
David Gates
Producer
Snuff Garrett
Weeks at number 1
2 (8-22 March)
Births
12 March:Co-chairman of the Conservative Party Amanda Milling 21 March: Snooker player Mark Williams
Breaking off from the 70s briefly, I noticed over Christmas 2020 that my blog on Every Christmas Number 2 was getting a lot of attention, and in the year that my first book, Every UK Number 1: The 50s was released, I decided to combine the two and give a (very) brief review of every chart runner-up from the first chart of November 1952 through to the end of the decade. Did some of these songs and artists deserve to be in my book, and are some as baffling as the singles that outsold them? As usual, I’ll pick a best and worst for each year, and then an overall pick for each to cover the 50s as a whole. Please note the songs here are singles for which number 2 was their highest position, so future and previous number 1s don’t get a look-in.
1952/53
The first years of the chart were a mix of trad pop, novelty songs and instrumentals. It gets off to a very strange start with Guy Mitchell’s Feet Up (Pat Him on the Po-Po), a typically chipper novelty hit that couldn’t be more different to the original number 1, Here in My Heart. Mitchell is paying tribute to his newborn son, saying he’s going to buy him ‘a horn, a baseball, and drum’… strange mix of gifts. I can’t pinpoint exactly where Mitchell is patting him – what is a Po-Po? I can only assume it’s his head or his arse. Mitchell, an early-50s chart mainstay, replaced himself at number 2 with the similarly upbeat Pretty Little Black Eyed Susie, in which he exclaims he loves his biscuits ‘soaked in gravy’. Truly, a different era. There’s a couple of forgettable instrumentals here – Terry’s Theme from ‘Limelight’, by Frank Chacksfield and His Orchestra, was written by Charlie Chaplin for his 1952 comedy drama, and Mantovani and His Orchestra’s Swedish Rhapsody sounds French more than anything. Frankie Laine was almost permanently in the top spot in 1953, and he’s here too, with quite a spooky-sounding country track, Where the Winds Blow.
The Best
Nat ‘King’ Cole – Pretend
I was familiar with this song due to Alvin Stardust’s 1981 cover, which was in my parents’ vinyl collection as I grew up. A classy orchestral ballad from a great singer, it’s much better than any other 1952/53 number 2, and would have been a better number 1 than Frankie Laine’s I Believe.
The Worst
Diana Decker – Poppa Piccolino
Yuck. Twee, cheesy nonsense. An Italian song, originally a satire on the divide between the rich and poor, rewritten to become cheesy fare about a wandering minstrel. Sung by a popular British/American actress of the era who starred in The Barefoot Contessa a year later.
1954
More of the same really, though a few classics start to crop up. Winifred Atwell kicks things off with one of her trademark ragtime medleys. Let’s Have a Party was so successful, it spawned a sequel, and Let’s Have Another Party became 1954’s Christmas number 1. Laine nudged her from the top spot with more western melodrama. Blowing Wild (The Ballad of Black Gold) is grandiose but not as memorable as Where the Winds Blow. More bright and breezy fare from Mitchell followed with Cloud Lucky Seven, which is rather similar to Kay Starr’s 1953 number 1 Comes-A-Long-A-Love. And then we have – of all things, Oberkirchen Children’s Choir’s The Happy Wanderer. This is a live 1953 recording by the BBC of the choir’s winning performance at the Llangollen International Musical. It’s charming to see such a song could be such a success, only nine years after the end of the Second World War. This amateur choir’s original members were war orphans, and the scene in Schindler’s List featuring this song is incorrect – The Happy Wanderer came after the war ended. Cole is back with another pop standard, and it’s the second time Chaplin gets a mention. This version of Smile was the first to feature lyrics and the song’s title, despite the tune being featured in the silent comedy legend’s 1936 film Modern Times. As always, Cole sings beautifully, and it’s perhaps the quintessential version.
The Best
Dean Martin with Dick Stabile and His Orchestra – That’s Amore
Yes, it’s cliched and dated, but it’s also one of Dean Martin’s most enduring signature songs. As always, Martin’s performance is key, and he pulls it off with bucketloads of charm. Originally written for him to perform in the comedy The Caddy from 1953, in which he sang it with comic partner Jerry Lewis. It was nominated for the Oscar for Best Original Song of that year, but lost out to Doris Day’s number 1 Secret Love.
The Worst
David Whitfield with Stanley Black and His Orchestra – Santo Natale
The only festive song on the list. David Whitfield’s operatic ballad is as painful as a real-life Christmas number 2 can be. There’s a reason you won’t find it on any Christmas compilations, it’s overwrought and sets my teeth on edge. Nice bells at the end, though. I also picked poor Whitfield as the man behind the worst Christmas number 2 with Answer Me.
1955
By this point, I was more than ready for some rock’n’roll. But although Rock Around the Clock appeared this year, all the number 2s are more of the same. Al Hibbler, a baritone with Duke Ellington’s orchestra, made a good stab at Unchained Melody – it’s certainly better than Jimmy Young’s awful rendition, a number 1 later that year. Laine is back yet again, with another western track. Cool Water is forgettable, despite being considered a standard of the genre. Mitch Miller, one of the most successful producers of the period, occasionally recorded with his orchestra, and his version of 1850s folk classic The Yellow Rose of Texas was his biggest UK hit in his own name. Unlike lots of his productions, this one is played straight. Four Aces Featuring Al Alberts had the most popular version of Love is a Many-Splendored Thing, but Bill Haley and His Comets prevented it from being the 1955 festive chart-topper. It did win the Oscar for Best Original Song though.
The Best
Frank Sinatra with Nelson Riddle and His Orchestra – Learnin’ the Blues
This isn’t up there with the best of Ol’ Blue Eyes, but it’s a pretty slick big band number in which Sinatra runs through how you know you’ve got the blues. However, it’s a pretty upbeat tune. In a poor year though, I guess this is the pick of the bunch.
The Worst
TheCyril Stapleton Orchestra with Julie Dawn – Blue Star (The ‘Medic’ Theme)
This appears to be an instrumental theme from a US medical drama called Medic, which was the first to feature actual medical procedures. But then, more than halfway in, Julie Dawn starts singing a very slushy love song. It’s very average 50s trad pop.
1956
An interesting, bumper year, with the sea change in pop becoming apparent. But not straight away. As we’ve seen, westerns were all the rage in the US and therefore the UK. The Ballad of Davy Crockett was a very successful attempt to promote the Walt Disney film Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier. There were several versions, and actor Bill Hayes did the best out of the folky theme tune. Frank Sinatra returns with (Love Is) The Tender Trap, taken from the film The Tender Trap. It was nominated for an Oscar but it’s pretty average, really. Then Zambezi by Lou Busch and His Orchestra livens things up somewhat. It’s a nice jazzy instrumental, that I’m sure I’ve heard before as background music on a comedy series. A Tear Fell by US singer Teresa Brewer slows things down massively. And then, Elvis Presley, at last! Heartbreak Hotel, his first single for RCA injects some much-needed cool to proceedings. It’s a landmark release, but there was better to come. And then, skiffle! A double A-side of traditional folk tunes, Lost John/Stewball, get The Lonnie Donegan Skiffle Group treatment. They’re much more gentle than the number 1 singles from Donegan in this decade, but still decent. Across the nation, future rock greats were taking note. Next up is a weird one. The All Star Hit Parade was a charity EP for The National Playing Fields Association, in which Dickie Valentine, Joan Regan, Winifred Atwell, Dave King, Lita Roza and David Whitfield contributed very short tracks, I’m assuming to make them all fit on one piece of vinyl. It’s mainly trad pop, and dull, but thankfully over pretty quick. Rounding things up nicely is one of number 1 crooner Frankie Vaughan’s most famous tunes. Green Door, later a number 1 for Shakin’ Stevens was, according to one urban legend, about the UK’s first lesbian club, Gateways, which had a green door.
The Best
Elvis Presley – Hound Dog
A classic that’s aged better than Heartbreak Hotel and many of his future number 1s, where the rot had already set in. Rocky and raunchy, with great drum breaks. Shame The Jordanaires spoil it with their old-fashioned backing vocals.
The Worst
Tony Martin With Hugo Winterhalter’s Orchestra and Chorus – Walk Hand in Hand
The second this dull trad pop from a veteran US actor and singer ended, I’d completely forgotten what it sounded like.
1957
Rock’n’roll is now established, and there’s plenty in the upper reaches of the charts among the ballads. It’s no coincidence that this is the best selection of tracks so far. One of the best ballads of the 50s is Nat ‘King’ Cole’s When I Fall in Love. It’s another masterful performance from Cole, and it’s a shame he never made it to number 1. Elvis wannabe Pat Boone beat ‘The King’ to the top spot, but why not just listen to the real thing? Love Letters in the Sand is better than his number 1, I’ll Be Home, at least. Last Train to San Fernando, by Johnny Duncan and the Blue Grass Boys, is a very interesting mix of bluegrass, calypso and skiffle, featuring Donegan’s former guitarist Denny Wright. Elvis Presley’s Party, which I’ve never heard before, is a nice blast of the early Presley rock’n’roll sound. Another Oscar nomination, Tammy, is typical cheesy 50s teen fare, used in Debbie Reynolds’ romantic comedy Tammy and the Bachelor. I know it from the sample found in The Avalanches’ A Different Feeling and Terry Gilliam’s adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998). It’s always made me feel queasy. Did you know Jim Dale from the Carry On films was a pop star before becoming an actor? Me neither, and he makes a decent fist of copying Presley on Be My Girl, produced by George Martin. Wake Up Little Susie is perhaps the most famous song by The Everly Brothers, yet it isn’t among their number 1s. It’s aged very well thanks to those sublime harmonies from Don and Phil and quite risque lyrics. Last up is a live recording of Ma He’s Making Eyes at Me by Johnny Otis and His Orchestra with Marie Adams. Otis is considered a seminal influence on rock’roll and it’s a great performance, particularly that raucous vocal from Adams.
The Best
Harry Belafonte, Tony Scott’s Orchestra and Chorus with Millard Thomas, Guitar – The Banana Boat Song
The pick of a great bunch (sorry) of singles is that calypso classic, originally a Jamaican folk tune, sung to perfection by the future civil rights activist and 1957 Christmas number 1 artist. I will have first heard this on Beetlejuice (1988) and have loved it ever since.
The Worst
Russ Hamilton – We Will Make Love
Easy listening dross sung by one of the first Scouse stars to make a name for themselves. That’s literally the only noteworthy thing to say about this.
1958
A smaller selection, and not much rock’n’roll. It’s a strange batch, but in a good way. Tom Hark by South Africans Elias and His Zig-Zag Jive Flutes is an instrumental kwela, that’s very familiar, probably via TV. The Mudlarks version of novelty bestseller Lollipop is catchy in an irritating sort of way – nice use of echo at the start though. US popsters The Four Preps contribute Big Man, a decent track with a memorable chorus and great harmonies. Interesting premise too, as the singer has dumped his girlfriend in a moment of madness and is now full of regret.
The Best
Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – Hard-Headed Woman
Lifted from The King’s film King Creole. This was the first rock’n’roll record to go Gold. There’s some great guitar work on this 12-bar blues, and a reliably strong vocal from Elvis.
The Worst
Dean Martin with Orchestra and Chorus Conducted by Gus Levine – Return to Me
A surprisingly dull track from the normally reliable Dean Martin, who sings the last verse in Italian. It’s not bad, but in a year of weird number 2s that at least stand out, it gets lost in the mix.
1959
By now the raw danger of rock’n’roll had been mostly dampened by the teen pop sound. But there are a couple of good examples of that genre to be found. I love Little Richard. What fantastic energy, and what a voice! He can even make the 1920s song Baby Face sound hip. But there are much better tracks out there by the flamboyant personality that should have been more popular in the charts. Kim Wilde’s dad Marty was a star in the 50s, and A Teenager in Love, originally a hit for Dion, is rightly well-remembered. If Battle of New Orleans is anything to go by, Lonnie Donegan’s output had already began to deteriorate. It’s considered a country classic but it’s nothing special to my ears, and the cheesy opening is a sign of things to come from the skiffle trailblazer.
The Best
The Teddy Bears – To Know Him, is to Love Him
Before the late Phil Spector became a mad production genius, and ultimately a murderer, he was a member of this pop trio. To Know Him, is to Love Him, inspired by the words on Spector’s father’s tombstone, was a sign of the songwriting excellence to come. I particularly like the performance of the ‘Why can’t he see’ section by lead singer Annette Kleinbard. She later changed her name to Carol Connors, and co-wrote Gonna Fly Now the brilliantly uplifting theme from Rocky (1976).
The Worst
The Everly Brothers – (‘Til) I Kissed You Somewhat disappointing, plodding pop from Don and Phil. Written by the former.
The Best 50s Number 2 Ever is…
Elvis Presley – Hound Dog
Had to be, really. Elvis Presley’s 50s number 1s, bar Jailhouse Rock, don’t really do the King justice. This however, is rightly considered by many the point at which rock’n’roll truly became a revolution. This Lieber and Stoller 12-bar blues was originally recorded by Big Mama Thornton in 1952. Thornton’s version is better, but Presley also knocks it out of the park.
The Worst 50s Number 2 Ever is…
Tony Martin With Hugo Winterhalter’s Orchestra and Chorus – Walk Hand in Hand
So I listened to this again, and it made as much impression as last time. None. All I can say about it is that it’s very, very dull and we should never forget what rock’n’roll did for us to largely sweep this sort of thing away.
The Outro
I have to confess, this has proved a rather disappointing exercise on the whole! I was hoping for more rock’n’roll classics that I’d also expected to have been number 1s when i began covering them, but the runners-up largely mirror the chart-toppers – trad pop and novelties, a surge of rockn’roll and skiffle, and then teen pop. There’s no soul in there at all. Little Richard is there, but he had to cover a 1920s showtune to get a look-in. But it did at least remind me what a force of nature early Elvis was, and that Nat ‘King’ Cole was one of the greatest crooners. I know that when it comes to covering the 60s number 2s, there will be a larger volume of gems.
