Phil Spector

473. John Lennon – Imagine (1981)

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The Intro

It may have been a new year, but the world was still reeling from the death of John Lennon. Though he was knocked from the top spot by the sickly There’s No One Quite Like Grandma, once the holiday season was over, the public saw sense. One of Lennon’s finest songs, and his biggest seller, the stately Imagine made for a fitting epitaph.

Before

After undergoing primal therapy, the stark, cathartic album John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band saw the singer deal with the demise of The Beatles and the childhood trauma of losing his mother when he was a child. It doesn’t get much bleaker than the one-two punch of God and My Mummy’s Dead at the end of that LP, released in 1970.

Lennon started 1971 with a strong political statement. Power to the People saw him reference his non-confrontational approach in Revolution and turn it on its head, urging the public to rise up. Such grand statements didn’t help him appeal to the already paranoid US president, Richard Nixon. But it was a hit, reaching seven in the UK charts.

Work began on Lennon’s second solo album in May. After jamming with George Harrison in New York, the guitarist agreed to be on board for the sessions, and invited Klaus Voorman along too, to resume bass playing duties after his work on the previous LP.

The sessions properly started on 11 May at Lennon’s Ascot Sound Studios at his Tittenhurst Park residence (several tracks had however already been recorded back in February). Phil Spector was back on board as producer after barely being involved in his last album, despite his credit. Lennon wanted a less brittle sound than before, adding strings to the mix and hoping for greater commercial appeal. This might have been partly down to the ensuing war with his former songwriting partner. Lennon perceived Too Many People on Paul McCartney’s album Ram to be a personal attack on him, and so wrote the nasty How Do You Sleep? in response. So, this new album wasn’t exactly smothered in commercial appeal – but it was certainly warmer in general than John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band, thanks in part to Torrie Zito’s strings. And of course, because of the title track.

Imagine was inspired in part by Yoko Ono’s 1964 book Grapefruit, particularly the poem Cloud Piece, which featured the words ‘Imagine the clouds dripping, dig a hole in your garden to put them in’ – that made it to the back of Imagine‘s sleeve. Another inspiration was – ironically, considering the line ‘And no religion, too’ a Christian prayer book, given to Lennon and Ono by the comedian Dick Gregory. Lennon also once compared Imagine to The Communist Manifesto.

Perhaps with the musical motif John’s Piano Piece (created during the sessions for Let It Be in 1969) in mind, Lennon finished creating the most of Imagine – both musically and lyrically – in early 1971 at a piano in one of his Tittenhurst bedrooms, while Ono watched on.

The recording of Imagine began late in the morning on 27 May and finished that evening at Ascot Sound Studios. Initially, Spector had tried to record Lennon on his famous white baby grand in his and Ono’s all-white room, but wasn’t happy with the acoustics. He also had session pianist extraordinaire Nicky Hopkins playing along with Lennon but in different octaves. With Voorman on bass and Alan White on drums, Imagine only took three takes in the end. Zito’s strings, performed by The Flux Fiddlers, were overdubbed on 4 July at The Record Plant in New York City.

Review

Where do you start with one of the most famous songs of all time? The reputation of Imagine is so huge, it’s like writing about an ancient hymn. So it came as some surprise to discover it wasn’t even released as a single in the UK until 1975. Why that is the case, I don’t know.

I do know that, in part due to the formidable power of Imagine through the decades, there has also been considerable criticism aimed at the song. Mainly due to the idea that we should imagine no possessions when the man suggesting we do that is a very, very rich man. I don’t think that’s fair, however. Lennon isn’t being hypocritical. As Ringo Starr suggested in a 1981 Barbara Walters interview, Lennon isn’t telling us to give up our possessions. He’s simply asking us to imagine it. Yes, that might make for a convenient get-out clause for the ‘working class hero’, and I can understand the critics who complain that Imagine is trite. And yet, despite being more of a cynic than a dreamer, I buy into it. Imagine is aimed at all the dreamers, the people longing for a better world. The idea that the world Lennon asks us to imagine could be real was out of reach in 1971. In 2024, it’s even harder to picture. But, if you’re still a child at heart or there’s even an element of hippy longing inside you, the chances are you love Imagine.

Musically, Imagine is just as simple as the idealistic world Lennon conjures up – and again, that’s part of its mass appeal. And as prone to overproduction (not as important as him also being a total psychopath, of course) as he was, his work on Imagine is perfect. The piano reverb is warm and enveloping, wrapping you up in the cotton wool of a world with no hell, nothing to kill or die for – a world of peace. The strings are uncharacteristically subtle for a Spector production, and so much better for it.

So, although overfamiliarity breeds contempt and the simplistic world view (ironic considering what a cynic Lennon was) of Imagine understandably rubs some up the wrong way, I could and probably have heard Lennon’s signature solo song a million times, and will hear a million more. But I’ll never tire of it. And if, for all his flaws, Lennon is known for Imagine, well, it does him no harm.

After

Imagine was released as a single in the US in October 1971, where it reached number three. It topped the Canadian charts, and in time became his bestselling solo record. The accompanying album, also released that October in the UK, was also the most commercially and critically successful post-Beatles LP.

The following year, Lennon and Ono released a film of the same name. Its opening scene is now recognised as the official music video for the song, with the couple walking through fog as the piano begins. They enter an all-white room, where Lennon plays his white piano, and as the song progresses, Ono lets light into the room – to the consternation of critics who find it sadly ironic that Lennon is singing of no possessions just as Ono shows how wealthy they were. Four years after the creation of Imagine, the single, housed in a photo by then-girlfriend May Pang in 1974, was finally released in the UK to promote his compilation Shaved Fish. Possibly due to most fans already owning the Imagine album, it only made it to number six.

Following Lennon’s murder in 1980, it was the 1975 single that climbed the charts in January 1981 and became his second posthumous number 1, after (Just Like) Starting Over. The single was re-released in 1988 to accompany the documentary film John Lennon: Imagine, but missed out on the top 40. In 1999 Imagine reached number three.

The Outro

One of the most famous pop songs of all time, Imagine has been covered countless times. Probably the worst version is the widely ridiculed 2020 celebrity version, headed up by actress Gail Gadot during the initial COVID-19 lockdown. It is pure torture.

The Info

Written by

John Lennon

Producers

John Lennon, Yoko Ono & Phil Spector

Weeks at number 1

4 (10 January-6 February)

Trivia

Births

11 January: Singer Jamelia/Kasabian singer Tom Meighan
19 January: Actress Thalia Zucchi
22 January: Footballer Richard Butcher/Rally driver Guy Wilks
25 January: Rower Alex Partridge
29 January: Actress Rachna Khatau
30 January: Footballer Peter Crouch
31 January: Reality TV star Gemma Collins
1 February: Racing driver Rob Austin

Deaths

11 January: Labour MP Malcolm MacDonald
12 January: Actress Isobel Elsom/Labour MP Joseph Sparks
15 January: Racing driver Graham Whitehead
16 January: Actor Bernard Lee
18 January: Engineer David Stirling Anderson
19 January: Boxer Eric Boon/Geologist William John McCallien
20 January: Conservative Chancellor of the Exchequer Derick Heathcoat-Amory, 1st Viscount Amory
21 January: Racing driver Cuth Harrison/Welsh poet BT Hopkins/Ulster Unionist Party MP James Stronge (see ‘Meanwhile…’)/Ulster Unionist Party MP Sir Norman Stronge, 8th Baronet (see ‘Meanwhile…’)/Jockey Tommy Weston
22 January: Artist Gladys Vasey
23 January: Economist Sir Andrew Shonfield
27 January: Screenwriter Roger Burford/Landscape architect Brenda Colvin/Lawyer Cecil Davidge
29 January: Aviator John Cecil Kelly-Rogers
2 February: Cricketer Jack Parsons
4 February: Tennis player Joan Ingram/Neurologist Douglas McAlpine
6 February: Cricketer Gilbert Ashton

Meanwhile…

13 January: The prison officers’ overtime ban comes to an end.

14 January: The British Nationality Bill is published.

16 January: Northern Ireland civil rights campaigner and former MP Bernadette McAliskey is shot at home in County Tyrone.
Also on this day, 78% of British Steel Corporation workers vote in favour of their chairman’s ‘survival’ plan.

18 January: 10 people were killed in the New Cross house fire. Three more died in hospital.

21 January: Sir Norman Stronge and his son James, both former Stormont MPs, are killed by the IRA.

22 January: Australian mogul Rupert Murdoch agrees to buy The Times newspaper if an agreement can be reached with the unions.

25 January: Four right-wing Labour MPs: Shirley Williams, Roy Jenkins, Bill Rodgers and David Owen – dubbed the ‘Gang of Four’ announce The Limehouse Declaration, in which they reveal plans to form the Social Democratic Party (SDP).

26 January: Nine more Labour MPs declare support for the SDP.
Also on this day, Secretary of State for Industry Sir Keith Joseph announces more financial support for British Leyland.

27 January: Tony Benn replaces Bill Rodgers in the Labour Shadow Cabinet.

28 January: Sir Hugh Fraser is removed as the Chairman of the House of Fraser.
Also on this day, damage is caused in cells at HM Prison Maze in Northern Ireland.

2 February: The Brixton prison escape is released, resulting in the Governor being transferred to an administrative post.

4 February: Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher announces the Government is to sell half its shares in British Aerospace.

6 February: The coal ship Nellie M is bombed and sunk by an IRA unit driving a hijacked pilot boat in Lough Foyle.
Also on this day, the Government drops two controversial clauses of the Nationality Bill.

397. Showaddywaddy – Under the Moon of Love (1976)

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The Intro

Although by late 1976 glam was a distant memory, there were still plenty of pop acts riding the wave of a rock’n’roll revival. One of the most successful were Leicester-based eight-piece Showaddywaddy, who scored 23 UK hits and topped the charts for three weeks.

Before

Showaddywaddy began in 1976 when two groups, Choise and The Golden Hammers, decided to join forces. Both would perform at the Fosse Way pub and would often jam together. With a shared love for the music of yesteryear, they named themselves Showaddywaddy after a typical rock’n’roll backing vocal. Keeping the roles they had in their separate groups, it meant they had two of everything – singers Dave Bartram (the Mick Jagger lookalike) and Buddy Gask, guitarists Russ Field and Trevor Oakes, bass players Al James and Russ Deas and drummers Romeo Challenger and Malcolm ‘Duke’ Allured.

Within months of forming Showaddywaddy were part of ATV talent show New Faces, where they won one programme and were runners-up in the ‘All Winners Final’ that Christmas. They stood out thanks to their energetic performances and multi-coloured Teddy Boy outfits, even if Bartram’s hair was far too long to truly look the part. Debut single Hey Rock and Roll, written by the band, took them all the way to number two after it was released in April 1974. Their eponymous debut spawned two more hits that year – Rock ‘n’ Roll Lady (15) and Hey Mr Christmas (13).

In 1975 Showaddywaddy hit upon their ultimate winning formula by releasing covers of songs by rock’n’roll legends. Three Steps to Heaven, a posthumous number 1 for Eddie Cochran in 1960, took them to two, followed by Buddy Holly’s Heartbeat, which peaked at seven. The next few releases, which failed to crack the top 30 in 1976, suggested the game might be up, but then came their number 1. Released in 1961, the original Under the Moon of Love had been sung by co-writer Curtis Lee, who penned it with Tommy Boyce, later one of the songwriting team behind The Monkees. Phil Spector produced the original.

Review

Showaddywaddy’s version was produced by Mike Hurst, who had been part of The Springfields before Dusty went solo. He had also produced Manfred Mann’s number 1 Mighty Quinn in 1968. It’s not very different from the original, and that’s no bad thing, because there’s a lot to like about Under the Moon of Love. Effortlessly catchy and fun, I’ve always had a soft spot for it, even if I’d never think to listen to it by choice. More of a nostalgia thing, as an uncle of mine loved Showaddywaddy and I likely heard it a lot as a child. Not all pop has to be high art or push the envelope, and I know I’ve mentioned how poor 1976 was for number 1s over and over as of late, so it’s nice to hear something with some energy, even if it is ultimately rather throwaway and yet another 70s song in thrall to the past.

Under the Moon of Love narrowly missed out on the Christmas number 1 spot, even if it was perfect for festive parties. Showaddywaddy had a very successful few years ahead. Their cover of The Kalin Twins’ 1958 number 1 When soared to three and the next five singles, You Got What It Takes, Dancin’ Party, I Wonder Why, A Little Bit of Soap and Pretty Little Angel Eyes all went top five.

After

As the 70s drew to a close their sales began to slow, but were still respectable. Sweet Little Rock ‘n’ Roller reached 15 in 1979 and Why Do Lovers Break Each Others Hearts peaked at 22 in 1980. Showaddywaddy’s last hit was Who Put the Bomp (in the Bomp-a-Bomp-a-Bomp), only making it to 37 in 1982.

The Outro

Allured was first to leave in 1984, followed by Field in 1985 and Gask in 1987. James retired in 2008, closely followed by Oakes in 2009. Gask died in 2011, the same year that Bartram left the group. Deas departed in 2019, which means Challenger is the only original member. He still tours with a line-up of the band.

The Info

Written by

Tommy Boyce & Curtis Lee

Producer

Mike Hurst

Weeks at number 1

3 (4-24 December)

Trivia

Births

8 December: Actor Dominic Monaghan
12 December: The Darkness guitarist Dan Hawkins
17 December: Competition sailor Andrew Simpson
18 December: Swimmer Jaime King
20 December: Game designer Adam Powell

Deaths

4 December: Composer Benjamin Britten

Meanwhile…

15 December: Chancellor Denis Healey announces he has successfully negotiated a £2,300,000,000 loan for Britain from the International Monetary Fund, on condition that £2,500,000,000 is cut from public expenditure.

Every 50s Number 2

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The Intro

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

1952/53

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

The Best

Nat ‘King’ Cole – Pretend

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

The Worst

Diana Decker – Poppa Piccolino

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

1954

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

David Whitfield with Stanley Black and His Orchestra – Santo Natale

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

1955

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

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

1956

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

The Best

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst

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

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

1957

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

Russ Hamilton – We Will Make Love

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

1958

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

The Best

Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – Hard-Headed Woman

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

The Worst

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

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

1959

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

The Best 50s Number 2 Ever is…

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst 50s Number 2 Ever is…

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

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

The Outro

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

330. Wizzard (Vocal backing: The Suedettes) – See My Baby Jive (1973)

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The Intro

Lighting up the charts in 1973, Wizzard became one of the biggest bands in glam rock. Literally, too, as there were eight full-time members, creating an all-mighty cacophony of tributes to Phil Spector’s ‘Wall of Sound’. They were also visually striking, an explosion of colour, filling the stage with outlandish outfits and make-up. This was all down to their unassuming genius leader, Roy Wood.

Before

Wood, born 8 November 1946 in Kitts Green, Birmingham, was no stranger to pop stardom, having already been at number 1 in 1969 with Blackberry Way in The Move. Their story was covered in greater depth in my review of said song, but prior to that hit, Wood had first learned guitar as a teen, and was a member of various bands in and around Birmingham, the first being The Falcons. He later joined Gerry Levene & the Avengers, who recorded a single before splitting in 1964, then joined Mike Sheridan and the Nightriders, later to become The Idle Race. Around this time he as expelled from Moseley Art College.

By 1967 The Move were a constant presence on the singles chart thanks to Wood’s ability to write catchy pop-rock songs with a psychedelic edge. By the end of the decade he was also their lead singer following Carl Wayne’s departure.

Wood was also one of the founders of the Electric Light Orchestra. He came up with the project with the desire to combine classical instruments with a rock sound, picking up where The Beatles had left off. After initially declining, Jeff Lynne of The Idle Race joined The Move on the condition they focused more on ELO. Originally intended to be a B-side for The Move, the epic, excellent 10538 Overture became ELO’s first single (more on that here).

The Move were supposed to end in 1970, but contractual obligations meant both groups existed until 1972, which proved a pivotal year for all concerned. That March saw the release of The Electric Light Orchestra, which would be the only ELO album to feature Wood, who departed that July. Wood decided to start a new project, where he could take his ELO experimentation up a notch and see just how many instruments it was possible to add to pop songs.

In addition to being singer in Wizzard, Wood played guitars, saxophone, woodwinds, strings, keyboards and percussion. Also on board were Mike Burney (saxophone, clarinet, flute), Charlie Grima (drums, percussion, vocals), ELO members Bill Hunt (keyboards, French horn) and Hugh McDowell (cello, synthesisers), Rick Price (bass), formerly of The Move, and Keith Smart (drums). Quite a set-up.

Making public Wood’s intention to pay tribute to the rock’n’roll of his youth, Wizzard made their debut at The London Rock and Roll Show at Wembley Stadium only a month after leaving ELO. They set to work on their first recordings, and debut single Ball Park Incident reached number six in January 1973.

Review

In his excellent book Yeah Yeah Yeah: The Story of Modern Pop, Bob Stanley noted that ‘Roy Wood loved pop. He was a superfan. He wanted to be all of pop, all at the same time.’ This is certainly apparent on See My Baby Jive, a joyous audio romp in which a million things are happening all at once. So much so, this song understandably has its critics, who say it’s just too much for their ears to cope with. Not me, I love it, and am fascinated by Wood’s production technique. I thought the reason Wizzard’s singles were so muddy and harsh was down to primitive technology of the time, but apparently he insisted on adding a ring modulator to mess up the quality deliberately. Despite the fact there’s so much going on, and it’s over five minutes long, the tune is so effervescent it seems to be over in a flash.

After

Wood was of course made for life when he made I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday, and I’ve always found See My Baby Jive to be the Christmas song you can enjoy all year round. Try hearing Wood singing ‘Well every one you meet coming down the street/Just to see my baby jive’ and not hear ‘So let the bells ring out for Christmas’. So on that limited knowledge of Wizzard I wondered if this particular project was a one-trick pony. Then I heard their debut LP, Wizzard Brew.

The Outro

All glam rock is indebted to rock’n’roll to some degree, and became more so as the years went by, but See My Baby Jive is a full-on tribute to the ecstasy of the dancehalls of the 50s, and was also a big influence on ABBA’s first number 1, Waterloo. But you could argue that Wizzard weren’t glam rock at all. If you listen to Wizzard Brew, you get what Stanley meant, and that Wood should be considered one of our greats, not just as a man who got lucky with a Christmas song. More on that when we get to Angel Fingers (A Teen Ballad).

The Info

Written & produced by

Roy Wood

Weeks at number 1

4 (19 May-15 June)

Trivia

Births

21 May: Comedian Noel Fielding
24 May: Presenter Dermot O’Leary
30 May: Comedian Leigh Francis
9 June: Comedian Iain Lee

Deaths

21 May: Painter Montague Dawson
6 June: Comedian Jimmy Clitheroe

Meanwhile…

20 May: The Royal Navy sent three frigates to protect British fishing vessels from Icelandic ships during the Cod War dispute.

23 May: The Matrimonial Causes Act changed the law of divorce in England and Wales.

29 May: The Princess Royal announced her engagement to Captain Mark Phillips.

296. George Harrison – My Sweet Lord (1971)

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The Intro

John Lennon and Paul McCartney were the greatest pop songwriting partnership of all time, together or separately writing 17 number 1 singles for The Beatles. But George Harrison has always been my favourite member of the Fab Four. Sardonic, mystical and more level-headed than the others, ‘the Quiet One’ blossomed at the end of his time in The Beatles. He had matured into a great songwriter, and I’ve always liked an underdog. Something was the first dance on my wedding day, and my youngest daughter was born to Here Comes the Sun. I even have the latter tattooed on my right arm.

Despite his new-found confidence and prolificness, it must still have come as a shock to the other three members of The Beatles that it would be Harrison who would score the first solo number 1 and biggest seller of 1971 with My Sweet Lord.

Before

Born 25 February 1943 in Wavertree, Liverpool, Harrison was the youngest of four children. His father Harold was a ship’s steward and his mother, Louise, a music-loving shop assistant. Fascinatingly, when Louise was pregnant with George, she would listen to a show called Radio India every Sunday, hoping that the sounds of the sitar and tabla would make her baby peaceful.

As a child, Harrison liked artists including George Formby and Cab Calloway, until in 1956 he had an epiphany while on his bike. He heard Elvis Presley’s Heartbreak Hotel blaring from a house, and was hooked. At first his dad was apprehensive, but relented and bought him an acoustic guitar. He formed a skiffle group called The Rebels, and one day on the bus to school, he befriended an older boy called Paul McCartney.

Two years later, Harrison was accepted into McCartney’s group The Quarrymen following initial skepticism from founder John Lennon. By the time the group had become The Beatles and settled on the legendary line-up, Harrison was their lead guitarist.

In their early recording years, Harrison would usually get a song or two to sing on each album, either a Lennon-McCartney original like Do You Want to Know a Secret? (from first LP Please Please Me) or a classic rock’n’roll track such as Roll Over Beethoven from the follow-up With the Beatles. It was on this album that he made his songwriting debut, with the typically sulky, downbeat but interesting Don’t Bother Me.

His influence would start to really be felt on the band when recording 1965’s Rubber Soul. By this point he was a fan of folk rock from the US, but had also become interested in Indian music through the filming of that year’s film Help!. His track If I Needed Someone, a Byrds soundalike, was one of that album’s highlights (he later said this was his favourite Beatles album).

Harrison became ever more fascinated with Indian culture and music, and Love You To on Revolver and Within You, Without You on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band helped turn their fans on to both – and many other bands too. And me – it may sound hard to believe, but it was The Beatles’ Indian-influenced songs that really got me into the Fab Four. I can remember the exact moment, in fact – I tranced out to Harrison’s Blue Jay Way at a friend’s house (completely without the aid of drink or drugs, I should add) and became obsessed. His first ever B-side, 1968’s The Inner Light, also marked the end of his overtly Indian material within the band.

The Beatles began splintering while recording their self-titled double album that year, and Harrison quit at one point, but two of his four tracks that made the final cut, While My Guitar Gently Weeps and Long, Long, Long, were among the album’s best.

His songwriting went from strength to strength from here on in. Something was his first A-side, and famously Frank Sinatra called it the finest love song of the past 50 years. After Abbey Road had been released, they had discussed continuing, and Lennon suggested Harrison should be allowed an equal share of songs on their next album – something McCartney disagreed with.

Harrison had already released two solo albums before The Beatles split – the 1968 film soundtrack Wonderwall Music and the experimental Electronic Music the following year. He was stockpiling songs all the time, recording a beautiful demo of All Things Must Pass during Beatles’ sessions. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he decided his first post-Beatles album, produced with Phil Spector and named after said track, would be triple-length.

Among those songs was his first solo single, My Sweet Lord. First written in December 1969, it was influenced by his production duties on Radha Krishna Temple’s Hare Krishna Mantra. Harrison was a guest, along with friends Eric Clapton and Billy Preston on Delaney & Bonnie’s European tour. He ducked out of a press conference and began vamping on an acoustic guitar, alternating between singing ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Hare Krishna’. Whether he was aware he was doing it to the tune of He’s So Fine, a 1963 hit for The Chiffons, we’ll never know, but he was also deliberately influenced by the Edwin Hawkins Singers’ rendition of Oh Happy Day.

At the time of writing My Sweet Lord, Harrison wasn’t intending on going solo, so he offered it to Preston, whose second album, Encouraging Words, he was producing. With the Edwin Hawkins Singers providing some great backing vocals, Preston’s version is more overtly gospel, with the backing chant being mostly ‘Hallelujah’.

Letting someone else record it was one thing, but Harrison was nervous about doing it himself later in 1970. He wanted to sing about needing a direct relationship with God, and for others to be able to do so too, whatever their religion, and so he reintroduced the Hare Krishna mantra to the song, as well as the third verse of the Guru Stotram an ancient hymn in praise of Hindu spiritual teachers:

‘Gurur Brahmā, gurur Viṣṇur 
gurur devo Maheśvaraḥ 
gurus sākṣāt, paraṃ Brahma 
tasmai śrī gurave namaḥ.’

This translates as:

‘I offer homage to my guru, who is as great as the creator Brahma, the maintainer Vishnu, the destroyer Shiva, and who is the very energy of God.’

Opening with a low-key strum (in general, this is a pretty lo-fi recording by Spector’s usual standards) that’s much more ‘Harrison’, his version comes to life with some nice slide guitar work that’s also unmistakably him, before he begins singing. Harrison is earnest, pleading almost, for God, in whichever form, to come into his life. As cleverly noted elsewhere, it’s almost like Harrison is on his way for a first date, nervous but keen to find romance. I prefer the choice to build the song up, keeping the backing vocals until later – it helps create the ‘epic’ atmosphere such a song deserves. Critics of My Sweet Lord complain that the backing vocals smother it, but I can’t agree with that. They make it such a joyful song of love and devotion, and I’m speaking as an atheist.

My Sweet Lord had an all-star role call of collaborators. Among those making an appearance at Abbey Road Studios were Preston on piano, Clapton on acoustic guitar, his Derek and the Dominoes colleagues Bobby Whitlock on harmonium and Jim Gordon on drums and percussion, Ringo Starr on the same, Pete Ham, Tom Evans and Joey Molland from Badfinger on acoustic guitars, their drummer Mike Gibbins on tambourine, Klaus Voorman from Plastic Ono Band on bass, future Dream Weaver hitmaker Gary Wright on electric piano and Ravi Shankar collaborator John Barham providing the beautiful string arrangement. It is unknown, however, who played on the selected takes. I could always make out Harrison’s voice among the backing singers – what I didn’t know until now is that it’s purely him, multi-tracked and credited to ‘the George O’Hara-Smith Singers’.

Harrison announced in October 1970 that there would be no single before the release of All Things Must Pass, but Spector and bosses at Apple disagreed and thought My Sweet Lord had real potential. Harrison backed down, and the single was released in November in the US, then in January 1971 in the UK. It only took a fortnight to climb to number 1.

After

My Sweet Lord went on to sell millions, and All Things Must Pass was a huge-selling album. While Lennon and McCartney were busy sending each other coded insults via respective albums Imagine and Ram, Harrison, for a time looked like he would be the most successful solo Beatle of all. It didn’t work out that way, but he wouldn’t have wanted it to anyway. It may not be his greatest song, but it’s certainly up there, and if anyone deserved some time in the limelight, it’s the Dark Horse.

The Outro

In 2002, Harrison’s debut single was re-released posthumously and went to number 1 once more. A very fitting tribute. I’ll look at the rest of Harrison’s life and career, and the controversy regarding this song, when we get to that point.

The Info

Written by

George Harrison

Producers

George Harrison & Phil Spector

Weeks at number 1

5 (30 January-5 March) *BEST-SELLING SINGLE OF THE YEAR*

Trivia

Births

30 January: Actor Darren Boyd
31 January: Northern Irish TV presenter Patrick Kielty
2 February: Singer Michelle Gayle
3 February: Playwright Sarah Kane
13 February: Singer Sonia
16 February: Actress Amanda Holden/Actor Steven Houghton
23 February: TV presenter Melinda Messenger
24 February: TV presenter Nicky Hambleton-Jones
1 March: Classical composer Thomas Adès
3 March: Satirist Charlie Brooker

Meanwhile…

3 February: Gritty British crime thriller Get Carter, starring Michael Caine, premiered in Los Angeles.

4 February: Car manufacturer Rolls-Royce went bankrupt.

11 February: The UK, along with the USA, the USSR and others, signed the Seabed Treaty, which outlawed nuclear weapons on the ocean floor.

15 February: Decimal Day! People all across the UK and Republic of Ireland were left confused when currency went decimal, despite public information films like this explaining beforehand.

24 February: Home Secretary Reginald Maudling announced the Immigration Bill, which would strip Commonwealth immigrants of their right to remain in the UK. The bill was of course supported by Enoch Powell, but the controversial former shadow cabinet minister continued to demand a massive voluntary repatriation scheme for the immigrants.

1 March: An estimated 120,000 to 250,000 “kill the bill” protesters went on strike against the 1971 Industrial Relations Act in London.