448. Pink Floyd – Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) (1979)

The Intro

One of the biggest bands of the 70s, prog rock legends Pink Floyd hadn’t released a single since 1968. Their dystopian disco classic Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) gave them their sole number 1 and was the final chart-topper of the decade, striking a sombre tone for the advent of the Thatcher era. The optimism of the decade’s first number 1 by Edison Lighthouse seemed a hundred years ago.

Before

Before the landmark albums, and before the psychedelia, there was Roger Waters and Nick Mason. The two met in 1963 while studying architecture at London Polytechnic. Sharing a mutual love of the upcoming beat music, they joined a band with some friends, and were joined by Richard Wright. Waters played lead guitar, Mason was behind the drumkit, and without a keyboard, Wright played rhythm guitar. Sigma 6 performed at private functions nearby, covering material by groups including The Searchers.

Sixma 6 went through several names, including The Meggadeaths, The Abdabs and Leonard’s Lodgers – Waters and Mason shared a flat owned by Mike Leonard. Guitarist Bob Klose moved into the flat when Mason left, and also joined the group, now called The Tea Set, in 1964, which prompted Waters to switch to bass. Wright began to use a Farfisa organ owned by Leonard. Later that year another lodger joined them and the line-up – Waters’ childhood friend Roger ‘Syd’ Barrett.

In December 1964 The Tea Set made their debut in a studio, thanks to a friend of Wright’s. The future keyboardist wasn’t there however, having taken a break in his studies. At this point Royal Air Force technician Chris Dennis was the frontman, but when the RAF posted him to Bahrain in early 1965, the good-looking, charismatic Barrett took over as frontman.

The Tea Set became the house band at London’s Countdown Club. Playing three sets, each 90-minutes long, they were struggling to avoid repetition in their material, but realised they could fill time with lengthy solos. Klose left The Tea Set in mid-65, so Barrett also became their guitarist.

Before one gig, their new frontman found out that there was another band with the same name set to perform at one of their gigs. He came up with The Pink Floyd Sound instead, inspired by two blues artists in his record collection – Pink Anderson and Floyd Council.

In 1966, as musicians began exploring the outer limits of pop, The Pink Floyd Sound were mostly performing old R’n’B songs. That December they were noticed by their future managers Peter Jenner and Andrew King, and Jenner suggested they became The Pink Floyd. This coincided with them being booked at venues popular with the underground music scene, including The Marquee Club.

At the same time they were developing basic but very effective light shows via projections of coloured slides. Jenner and King’s connections got them coverage in the Financial Times and they performed at the launch of new underground magazine International Times. By that December the covers were slowly dropping from their sets and Barrett originals were becoming more frequent. They became regulars at the ultra-hip UFO Club, where the far-out lights, improvised sets and Barrett’s charisma earned them an ever-growing fanbase among freaks and hippies.

As 1967 began The Pink Floyd were signed to EMI Records and released their debut single. Arnold Layne, a psych-pop classic about a thieving cross-dresser, was banned by many radio stations but nonetheless made it to 20 in the charts. They followed it up with an even better single, just in time for the Summer of Love. See Emily Play was a smash hit, peaking at six and earning them appearances on Top of the Pops. It was their last charting single until 1979.

However, Pink Floyd, as they were now known, were in trouble. Barrett, despite his good looks, was an unlikely pop star and too fragile to cope with the pressures of fame. He was already a regular user of LSD by the time they recorded their classic debut album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn in 1967. It features some of the best psychedelic rock ever, including Interstellar Overdrive, plus lysergic-dipped whimsy like Bike, whose ending was perhaps a sadly fair approximation of Barrett’s mind at the time. He became increasingly distanced from the others, and while standing at the front of the stage in silence with a guitar slung over his neck might have seemed nicely trippy for their audiences, it didn’t bode well for the future as far as the others were concerned.

While touring with The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Barrett’s behaviour came stranger and stranger. Stories circulated of performances where the singer crushed Mandrax tranquillisers and Brylcreem into his hair, which under the heat of the stage lights, gave the impression to drugged-up audiences that he was melting on stage. His behaviour became so unreliable the others drafted in Dave Gilmour, who had studied alongside Barrett in the early-60s, as an extra guitarist. Apples and Oranges, the final single written by Barrett, failed to chart. Under pressure to come up with the goods, he told the band he’d written their next single, called Have You Got It Yet?. Every time they rehearsed it, he played a different tune, making it impossible to work on.

In January 1968, Pink Floyd were en route to a performance in Southampton when they decided it would be best if they didn’t pick up Barrett. Jenner and King, perhaps understandably, thought Pink Floyd were finished without their frontman, so they went with Barrett. The burden of leadership fell to Waters and while they continued to experiment live, their recorded output began to consist of failed attempts to sound like Barrett, such as Wright’s It Would Be So Nice. A Saucerful of Secrets, released in June, closed with, for me, one of the most blackly comic songs ever. Jugband Blues was Barrett’s farewell, with him singing ‘I’m most obliged to you for making it clear that I’m not here’ and ending with a sad strum following a final trip to the cosmos, and the closing line ‘And what exactly is a joke?’ You could argue Barrett never left the group in a way, as his descent into madness would provide the band with inspiration for years to come.

Point Me at the Sky, sung by Gilmour and Waters, was their last UK single until Another Brick in the Wall (Part II). From then on Pink Floyd’s albums saw them searching for a new direction through soundtrack LPs More (1969) and Obscured by Clouds (1972) and albums of experimentation, that fitted in with the growing trend for progressive rock. Ummagumma, released in 1969, was a double album featuring a side by each band member, plus a live concert recording. Atom Heart Mother (1970) was better, featuring an interesting 20-minute-plus title track and some pastoral rock. They built upon this with Meddle (1971), which included the driving space rock of One of These Days and Echoes, another long track that pointed the way towards the band’s future.

Then came The Dark Side of the Moon. Released in 1973, this lush, wonderful album about universal themes including time, greed, conflict and madness (the latter inspired by Barrett) was the peak of Waters and Gilmour’s partnership. The latter’s languid, melodic guitar lines and soft vocals were the perfect counterpoint to Waters anger and satire. It remains one of the bestselling albums of all time, and deservedly so.

Following a lengthy tour, Pink Floyd reconvened and were under pressure to follow up with something just as successful. Struggling for inspiration, Waters began writing explicitly about the loss of Barrett as well as the perils of the music industry, for the album that became Wish You Were Here (1975).

Incredibly, while recording the two-part song Shine On You Crazy Diamond, a paunchy man with no eyebrows appeared in the studio, brushing his teeth. Initially unrecognisable, it became apparently the tragic figure was Barrett. He had released two solo albums after Pink Floyd – The Madcap Laughs (1970) and Barrett (1970), co-produced in different sessions by Gilmour, Waters and Wright. They’re a fascinating glimpse into the mind of a schizophrenic, at times painful to listen to.

Waters couldn’t believe Barrett was there, listening to a song explicitly about Pink Floyd’s former leader. He asked Barrett what he thought of it and he replied ‘It sounds a bit old’. Waters was distraught afterwards. Other than an accidental meeting with him in Harrods a few years later, in which Barrett ran away, it was the last time any of Pink Floyd saw him.

Pink Floyd’s bassist became ever more dominant within the group and came up with the concept of the next album. Animals, released in 1977. was loosely based on George Orwell’s Animal Farm, and in the year of the Silver Jubilee and punk, its cynical comments on the class system proved timely. But Wright in particular found himself increasingly sidelined.

The subsequent ‘In the Flesh’ tour saw the prog-rock behemoths touring stadiums for the first time, but friction grew and Wright flew back home at one point threatening to quit, and most famously, a group of noisy fans at the Montreal Olympic Stadium prompted Waters to spit at one of them. He began to wish there was a wall between the band and the audience.

In 1978 the band, struggling financially through ill-advised investments, needed new material, despite Gilmour feeling they had done all they could achieve. Waters presented them with two ideas. The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking, which became his first solo album in 1984, and a 90-minute collection of demos entitled Bricks in the Wall. Available online, the demos are the bare bones of what became an ambitious double album soundtracking the story of rock star Pink.

Producer Bob Ezrin, who had been behind School’s Out in 1972, wrote a script for the album, telling of Pink’s childhood trauma over losing his father in the Second World War (which had happened to Waters), his alienation through the education system, his mental problems during stardom (Barrett, once more) and subsequent breakdown. All his issues represented bricks in a wall he built up around his audience and his loved ones until he becomes a maniacal fascist. At the end, Pink recovers and tears down the wall and the story comes full circle, ending as it began.

Pink Floyd’s rock opera The Wall featured many repeated musical motifs, just like a film soundtrack. The double LP’s backbone was Another Brick in the Wall, which traced Pink’s downfall at three points in his life. Part I occurs after his father dies, Part II spotlights trauma suffered at boarding school, and Part III comes as Pink completes his wall, deciding everyone he knows has contributed to his suffering.

Recording began in December 1978. Previous tensions within the band continued and Wright contributed so little to the sessions, Waters, Gilmour and Mason issued an ultimatum. Wright was to leave the group once recording was over. He did however perform on this number 1, playing Hammond organ and Prophet-5 synthesiser.

While recording the album, Ezrin suggested to the band that they go out to a club and listen to some disco. The idea appalled Gilmour, and even more so when he did what Ezrin asked. He thought it was awful. However, Gilmour developed the catchy Bee Gees-style guitar riff that underpinned Another Brick in the Wall (Part II). To his relief, it sounded good. With an added disco beat behind it, Ezrin thought they had a hit on their hands if more work was done. Pink Floyd stuck to their guns and insisted they didn’t release singles. Eventually they relented to a degree, with Waters telling him, ‘Go ahead and waste your time doing silly stuff’.

So he did. While Pink Floyd were absent, Ezrin extended the song and decided on another key ingredient. Perhaps with School’s Out in mind, he asked engineer Nick Griffiths to record a few children at the nearby Islington Green School singing Waters’ lyrics – a delicious irony considering the theme of the song. Griffiths, inspired by a Todd Rundgren song, decided to ask for a choir instead. The school agreed, but insisted it take no longer than 40 minutes.

Head of Music Alun Renshaw loved the idea. He’d been longing to make his pupils more interested in class by making music more relevant. Fearing headteacher Margaret Maden might feel different when she knew what the song was about, he kept such information from her. Renshaw and the children practiced for a week before going to Britannia Row studio. In return for the performance, the school received £1000 and the students were given tickets for a Pink Floyd concert, plus copies of the single and album.

When Ezrin played the results to Waters he recalled ‘there was a total softening of his face, and you just knew that he knew it was going to be an important record’. After more than a decade, Pink Floyd decided to release a single edit. Ezrin added a four-bar disco instrumental intro by looping a section of the backing track and Gilmour’s guitar solo was faded out. Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) was released on 23 November 1979, a week before the album.

Review

I’m a huge Pink Floyd fan and find their story fascinating – at least, until the point Waters left. Most Pink Floyd fans have a preferred era, but I genuinely don’t know whether it’s the Barrett or Waters era for me. I can totally see why Waters’ increasing takeover of the group has its critics, and that many find The Wall bloated and self-obsessed, but I love it. I could sing the entire album to you right now, with all the film-style snippets between songs. And Ezrin’s work on Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) is excellent – there’s no way The Wall would have sold as well as it did without the success of this downbeat disco anthem behind it, and that’s all down to him by the sounds of it. Hats off to Renshaw for the performance of the choir. They sound genuinely pissed off and rather scary, fitting the nightmarish mood perfectly.

I love that this was the least festive Christmas number 1 in years and marked the end of the 70s. How strange that these progressive rockers, famous for their dreamy soundscapes, should somehow capture the mood of so many disaffected youths. It sounds obvious these days, to stick a children’s choir on a song released at Christmas, it means you’re on to a winner. But not a choir singing about needing no education! Who says punk killed prog? You’ve got both here in just over three minutes.

There’s two ways to hear Another Brick in the Wall (Part II). You either need to start with the preceding track on the LP, The Happiest Days of Our Lives, in which Waters sets the scene, or, if you want that disco intro, plus Gilmour’s solo from the album, you want the version from the 1981 compilation A Collection of Great Dance Songs.

A memorable promo film was made for the single. It begins with footage of St Paul’s Cathedral as a backdrop of London, and everything looks grey and grim. Panning around, the camera eventually swoops down into a playground. The footage is then interspersed with clips of puppets and animation by Gerald Scarfe, the satirical cartoonist responsible for the album artwork and subsequent tour. The nightmarish Schoolmaster Scarfe created puts pupils into the top of the school, which minces them up, and the headmaster’s head becomes that of one of the marching hammers stomping around. After a wall encircles a child, we see a group of children miming the ‘We don’t need no education’ chant as disco lights flash, and then as Gilmour’s solo begins, foreboding footage of children leaving flats suggests trouble, and we fade out on the marching hammers. Merry Christmas!

After

Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) was a worldwide smash, going to number 1 in many countries including the US. Thatcher and The Inner London Education Authority were not fans of the cynical lyrics. Waters would have been thrilled at upsetting the former. He could claim his number 1 was his reflection on his boarding school experiences, but he was a staunch critic of the Conservative Prime Minister, and would rail against her explicitly on the next Pink Floyd album, which would be his last.

1980 began with Pink Floyd’s elaborate stage show for The Wall, with inter-band relations at an all-time low. Wright returned but only as a salaried musician rather than band member. Plans were made to combine tour footage with animation and make a film. Alan Parker became director and decided to take a different approach. Boomtown Rats frontman Bob Geldof, who originally dismissed the idea as ‘bollocks’, was hired to play Pink.

Following the Falklands War, Waters suggested Pink Floyd follow-up with a sequel-of-sorts, delving deeper into the loss of his father in the Second World War and linking it to Thatcher’s jingoistic response to the conflict with Argentina that made her into a hero to many. Gilmour wasn’t keen, and in effect, the appropriately named The Final Cut was more like Waters’ first solo album than a Pink Floyd LP. There’s some interesting parts but it pales into comparison with The Wall, which, despite Waters’ dominance, proved that Pink Floyd were at their best when he and Gilmour worked together, for example, on tracks like this and the epic Comfortably Numb.

A year later Waters released The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking and went public in saying he believed Pink Floyd were done. Whatever the others had in mind, he went to the High Court in an effort to dissolve the band and prevent the others from using its name. Nevertheless, Gilmour and Mason pressed ahead with the 13th Floyd album. A Momentary Lapse of Reason had Wright back on board and was a return to the sound of The Dark Side of the Moon with added 80s bombastic production. But it lacked soul and with contributions from the others at a minimum, it was in effect a solo Gilmour album but it sold very well and a world tour followed.

The rancour between Waters and the others got silly. He would contact promoters in the US and threaten to sue them if they advertised Pink Floyd gigs. He issued a writ over the use of the inflatable pig based on the idea he came up with for the cover of Animals – they responded by adding male genitals to their pig to differentiate it. What a load of bollocks.

In January 1993 when Gilmour, Wright and Mason began work on the next album, The Division Bell, the legal war was over. Released the following year, it was better than their previous, but still way past the band’s prime. Another world tour came afterwards, which would be their last.

Although the legal issues had long since been settled, Gilmour and Waters still had a strained relationship. So it came as a huge, exciting surprise to Pink Floyd fans – myself included – when it was announced that the duo would reunite with Wright and Mason to perform at Live 8 on 2 July 2005 at Hyde Park. Geldof had managed the impossible, although Gilmour had originally refused and it took a call from Waters to persuade him. Pink Floyd’s dramatic return was a spellbinding treat, especially when Waters spoke to the crowd before Wish You Were Here and mentioned Syd. He even managed to coax Gilmour over for a hug at the end of the show.

Waters was enthused and spoke of more possible shows for charity, but Gilmour said he was done, insisting it wasn’t due to any tension between them. On 1 July 2006 I saw Waters at Hyde Park performing The Dark Side of the Moon and other classics, with assistance from Mason. As always he paid tribute to Barrett, but seemed quite emotional when doing so. Unbeknownst to me and everyone in attendance, Barrett had pancreatic cancer, and died six days later, aged 60. In May 2007 Gilmour, Wright and Mason performed together at a Barrett tribute concert, while Waters featured alone.

Wright died of cancer on 15 September 2008, aged 65. Perhaps age was mellowing them, or the deaths of their former colleagues had got them thinking, but relations thawed again for a brief time, with Waters and Gilmour performing together for an audience of 200 at a charity event in July 2010. The following year Waters was performing The Wall at London’s 02 Arena when Gilmour joined in on Comfortably Numb. Mason also joined in for album closer Outside the Wall.

In 2014 Pink Floyd released the album The Endless River. Gilmour and Mason had revisited sessions for The Division Bell and put it together as a tribute to Wright. Gilmour said it would be the final Pink Floyd album. In 2018 Mason said Gilmour and Waters remained at loggerheads and so he formed Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets, which would perform early Floyd material. In 2019 Waters joined them on stage.

The Outro

So it really did look like Pink Floyd were finally done. But then Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022. Gilmour, who has Ukrainian family, contacted Mason. They decided to team up with their bassist Guy Pratt (Waters was left out of the project) and musician Nitin Sawhney, and they created Pink Floyd’s first new song in 28 years. Hey, Hey, Rise Up! samples a performance by Andriy Khlyvnyuk, frontman of Ukrainian rock band BoomBox, who was recorded performing an a cappella version of a 1914 Ukranian protest song.

It’s highly likely that this will be a one-off but you never know. It could perhaps lead to live shows, at the least, Who’d have thought they would perform at Live 8, after all. But even with Mason as a go-between, it’s likely Waters won’t play with them again.

If they never do never reunite, at least they put their egos to one side for a good cause. If Pink Floyd’s career was made into a film – and it should be, because what a story – it would make a great, emotional ending, with Hey, Hey, Rise Up! an interesting epilogue.

And speaking of emotional endings, that’s the 70s done. What a decade of musical ups and downs, to say the least. To try and sum up this period would take a blog in itself. Sadly, just as things were getting interesting and exciting once more, it’s time for a break. Watch this space, though.

The Info

Written by

Roger Waters

Producers

David Gilmour, Bob Ezrin, Roger Waters & James Guthrie

Weeks at number 1

5 (15 December 1979-18 January 1980)

Trivia

Births

17 December 1979: Cricketer Charlotte Edwards
24 December: Field-hockey player Lucilla Wright
25 December: Racing driver Robert Huff
1 January 1980: Judas Priest guitarist Richie Faulkner
8 January: Actor Sam Riley
18 January: Singer Estelle

Deaths

6 January 1980: Racing car driver Raymond Mays
11 January: Novelist Barbara Pym
18 January: Photographer Sir Cecil Beaton

Meanwhile…

20 December 1979: The government publishes the Housing Bill, which will give council house tenants the right to buy their homes from 1981 onwards. This policy was a big vote winner among those who finally had a chance to own their ow homes.

2 January 1980: A new decade may have begun but strike action remained popular. Workers at British Steel Corporation began nationwide action for the first time since 1926. 

420. Kate Bush – Wuthering Heights (1978)

The Intro

Only 19 when this debut single was released, Wuthering Heights introduced the world to one of our most unique singer-songwriters. In an era where ABBA rip-off merchants could get to the top of the charts with dated pap, this Kate Bush song captured the hearts and minds of record buyers while being based on a 19th-century Gothic classic by Emily Brontë. Good work, record buyers.

Before

Catherine Bush was born 30 July 1958 in Bexleyheath, Kent to Doctor Robert Bush and his wife Hannah, an Irish staff nurse. She grew up in their East Wickham farmhouse surrounded by artistic people. Robert was an amateur pianist, Hannah an amateur traditional Irish dancer and her elder brothers John and Paddy were both involved in the local folk scene.

Bush was only 11 when she taught herself how to play the piano. She would also play an organ that was in the barn behind her parents’ house and studied the violin. By 13 she was composing her own songs and writing lyrics too.

The nascent musical prodigy attended St Joseph’s Convent Grammar School in Abbey Wood. A demo tape was put together by the Bush family featuring over 50 of her compositions but record labels kept turning it down. Fate intervened when she was 16 however, when family friend Ricky Hopper passed the tape on to Pink Floyd guitarist Dave Gilmour, then working on Wish You Were Here.

Gilmour was intrigued and captivated by Bush’s talent and strange singing voice and he decided to pay her a visit. Blown away by watching her perform, he decided the world needed to hear her and he arranged for a more professional demo to be recorded. Produced by Andrew Powell and former Beatles sound engineer Geoff Emerick, the demo saw Bush get signed by EMI executive Terry Slater.

With the large advance she received, Bush enrolled in interpretive dance classes taught by Lindsay Kemp, who had taught a pre-fame David Bowie. She spent more time on her education than recording for the first two years of her contract but left school after her mock A-levels. From there she fronted the KT Bush Band and began performing in London pubs during the summer of 1977.

It was during this time she set to work on her debut LP, The Kick Inside, which featured Gilmour along with other progressive rock stalwarts. EMI wanted her first single to be James and the Cold Gun but Bush had other ideas. In an early sign of her determination for creative control, she insisted her introduction to the public should be Wuthering Heights.

On 5 March 1977, aged 18, Bush had enjoyed a repeat of a 1967 BBC adaptation of Wuthering Heights and wrote the song late that night within a few hours. Upon reading Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel, she discovered she shared her birthday with the author. Written from the perspective of the character Catherine Earnshaw, only those who know the story would realise the wild and passionate Cathy is a ghost, haunting her beloved Heathcliff. Bush paraphrased the line ‘Let me in your window – I’m so cold!’ from the book itself and built the chorus around it.

The song was recorded one summer night, with Bush’s vocal laid down on the first take. She also played the piano. Backing her were the album’s producer and arranger Andrew Powell on bass and celeste, former Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel member Duncan Mackay on Hammond organ, former Pilot singer David Paton on acoustic guitar, Ian Bairnson, also from Pilot, played the famous guitar solo, drummer Stuart Elliott (also from Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel), Morris Pert on percussion and orchestral contractor David Katz. The production team, with Bush, began mixing at midnight and finished at five or six in the early hours of the morning.

Review

From that beautiful piano opening to the heroic guitar ringing out over the fade, Wuthering Heights is a dark, quirky delight. Bush’s voice isn’t for everyone and I’ll hold my hand up to being someone who can only take it in relatively short doses, but here it commands your attention. As Cathy, Bush recounts her tempestuous relationship with Heathcliff in the opening verse (‘I hated you. I loved you, too’). In the second verse, she’s about ‘to lose the fight’ and pass away, before her triumphant spectral return in the chorus. One of the highlights is the verse where Cathy’s need for Heathcliff is all-consuming: ‘Ooh! Let me have it/Let me grab your soul away’. It’s stirring, it’s wonderful, it’s a startlingly good number 1.

The first video of Wuthering Heights, made for the UK and Europe features an iconic performance by Bush, portraying the ghost of Cathy and dancing in a white dress in white mist. The alternative version for the US market featured Bush in a red dress dancing in grass.

After a two-month delay due to Bush being unhappy with the record sleeve (you’ll notice more and more single artwork featuring in the blog now), Wuthering Heights was released early in 1978 and thanks to lots of Radio 1 airplay it shot up the charts and beat Blondie to their first number 1 with Denis. Bush had become the first British woman to get to number 1 with a self-penned song.

After

Bush’s second single, the lovely The Man with the Child in His Eyes, was the same version on the demo which gained her a record contract. It peaked at six. Despite Wow reaching 14 in 1979, her second album Lionheart failed to match the success of her first. she underwent an exhausting tour combining music, dance, poetry, mime, burlesque, magic and theatre in which Bush was involved in every aspect of the show. During the tour she became the first pop star of note to have a microphone strapped to her face (courtesy of a self-made construction of wire coat hangers). Babooshka, from third album Never for Ever, reached five in 1980. This album saw the introduction of synthesisers and drum machines to her sound.

In 1982 Bush released the self-produced album The Dreaming, which baffled critics with its weirdness, yet spawned a number 11 single with Sat in Your Lap. The title track originally featured Rolf Harris, but since the obvious he’s been removed and replaced.

For her next album, 1985’s Hounds of Love, Bush had a private studio built so she could work at her own pace. The result was an excellent collection of pop art featuring my favourite track by her, Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God), which peaked at three and had a profound effect on me as a young boy. Cloudbusting later became the basis of Utah Saints’ Something Good and is another Bush banger, as is the title track. When Dolly Parton turned Peter Gabriel down, Bush featured on his 1986 duet Don’t Give Up, a number nine hit. That year also saw the release of a compilation The Whole Story, for which Bush rerecorded her vocal for Wuthering Heights.

In 1987 Bush was at number 1 again due to her appearance on a cover of The Beatles’ Let It Be, a charity single by a group of pop stars known as Ferry Aid, after the MS Herald of Free Enterprise capsized, killing 193 passengers and crew. 1989 saw her release The Sensual World, an LP she described as her most personal and honest yet. The title track reached 12, as did a cover of Elton John’s Rocket Man two years later and then Rubberband Girl two years after that. It was the first release from her seventh album The Red Shoes. This LP divided opinion among her fans due to the simplified production, designed to create a live sound.

A planned year-long hiatus after The Red Shoes lasted much longer and she became a virtual recluse. It is believed that in this time Bush grieved the loss of several friends and her mother, who had died of cancer in 1992. She became a mother in 1998 and devoted her time to raising her son Bertie. Stories would occasionally emerge of Bush – I remember one where she invited an EMI executive over. The label were very excited, assuming she had finally made a new album. Instead she revealed she’d baked a cake.

In 2005 Bush made a triumphant return with the album Aerial. The single King of the Mountain peaked at four, her highest chart placing in 20 years. It was another six years before she released Director’s Cut, comprising reworked tracks from The Sensual World and The Red Shoes, recorded with analogue rather than digital equipment. A proper new album, 50 Words for Snow, also came out in 2011, featuring Elton John. She turned down an offer to appear at the 2012 Olympics Closing Ceremony but a remix of Running Up That Hill was played in her absence and reached 12 in the charts.

Two years later Bush shocked critics and fans alike by announcing her first live dates since 1979. Before the Dawn was a 22-night residency at the Hammersmith Apollo. It was a huge success, with an album released two years later. she became the first female artist to have eight albums in the top 40 simultaneously.

The Outro

Bush is a national treasure. Totally unique and an amazing talent. While watching her video to Wuthering Heights on a repeat of Top of the Pops, my eldest daughter, then around four, sat entranced and declared at the end that ‘That Katie Bush is a funny onion’. I hope the performance has stayed with her.

The Info

Written by

Kate Bush

Producer

Andrew Powell

Weeks at number 1

4 (11 March-7 April)

Trivia

Births

16 March: Labour MP Anneliese Dodds
22 March: Scottish field hockey player Samantha Judge
31 March:
Footballer Stephen Clemence
3 April:
Actor Matthew Goode
7 April:
Blue singer Duncan James

Deaths

4 April: Aeronautics engineer Sir Morien Morgan

Meanwhile…

26 March: The Yorkshire Ripper looked to have claimed another life when the body of 21-year-old prostitute and mother-of-two Yvonne Pearson, who was last seen alive on 21 January, was found in Leeds.

30 March: The Conservative Party recruited up-and-coming advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi to revamp their image.

3 April: Permanent radio broadcasts of proceedings in the House of Commons began. 

325. The Sweet – Block Buster ! (1973)

The Intro

We’re now in 1973, one of the peak years for glam rock, and one of the biggest bands of the era were London quartet The Sweet, who combined a nascent metal sound with the sugary pop stylings of hitmakers Chapman and Chinn. After several dire, strange number 1s in the latter half of 1972, they get the year off to a brilliant start with their classic, Block Buster !.

Before

The Sweet’s origins lie in 60s London soul band Wainwright’s Gentlemen. Originally formed as Unit 4 in 1962, the line-up changed several times, and included from 1964 to 1965, future Deep Purple frontman Ian Gillan. Around the time Gillan joined, Mick Tucker from Ruislip became their drummer. In 1966, a Scotsman named Brian Connolly became their singer.

By January 1968 the band split, and Connolly and Tucker opted to form a new group. Hiring Steve Priest, a bass player from Hayes, Middlesex (who had previously worked with Joe Meek) and former Wainwright’s Gentlemen guitarist Frank Torpey, they called themselves The Sweetshop. They gained a following on the pub circuit and soon signed to Fontana Records, but upon hearing there was another band with the same name, they shortened theirs to The Sweet. Debut single Slow Motion was a failure, Fontana quickly washed their hands of the band, and so did Torpey. Mick Stewart, who had worked with Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, took his place in 1969.

The Sweet signed with EMI’s Parlophone and released three further singles, which also failed, so Stewart left. Around this time the remaining trio were put in touch with songwriting duo Mike Chapman and Nicky Chinn. Australian Chapman was working as a waiter when he first met struggling songwriter Chinn in 1970. They were looking for an outlet for bubblegum pop songs they’d worked on, and with session musicians performing, The Sweet recorded vocals for a track called Funny Funny. They auditioned for a new guitarist, hiring Welsh-born Andy Scott, who had worked with The Scaffold. The classic line-up had arrived, and they signed with Chapman and Chinn to RCA Records.

Funny Funny became a hit, climbing to number 13 in 1971, quickly followed by Co-Co, which did even better, stalling at number two behind Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep that July. An LP was quickly cobbled together – the unimaginatively titled Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be, released that November.

1972 saw further hits for The Sweet, including the seedy but infectious Little Willy and follow-up Wig-Wam Bam, which was still a staple in family holiday resorts in the early- to-mid 80s. The latter was also the first single to feature the band playing their own actual instruments, and it’s no coincidence the sound was a little heavier as a result. With both these songs reaching number four, the top spot was within reach.

Review

With those sirens blaring, backing vocals wailing and an incredibly catchy Bo Diddley-style riff, Block Buster ! remains one of the great glam number 1s. Of course, no coverage of this song would be complete without mentioning the similarity to David Bowie’s The Jean Genie, in the charts at the same time and just missing out on the 1972 Christmas number 1 spot. Both acts always maintained that this was nothing more than an incredible coincidence. Chinn later recalled meeting Bowie, who stared at him deadpan and called him a cunt, before bursting into laughter and embracing him.

So, which is best? It’s incredibly close to call. The Jean Genie‘s surreal lyrics are smarter and edgier – Block Buster !‘s wordplay revolves around the nefarious sex pest Buster, who, well, needs to be blocked, because he’ll ‘come from behind’ and steal your woman out from under your nose’, especially if she has long dark hair. Over the years, the wordplay has been largely forgotten and it’s more commonly known as Blockbuster now, and used on countless TV shows, adverts, films etc to put across, well, blockbusters!

Where Block Buster ! does win out though is in it’s polished production with effects to keep you interested, and special mention must go to the late Steve Priest, the recently deceased bassist, responsible for the camp interjection ‘We just haven’t got a clue what to do!’. I’ll never tire of that, in particular the footage of the band on the Christmas special of Top of the Pops, in which Priest is dressed as a Nazi, who looks to have his arse pinched by Scott. This caused many complaints at the time and would probably be even less popular now. I’m going to go with a preference for The Jean Genie though, just because, David Bowie.

After

The Sweet were one of the hottest acts of that year and into 1974, with Hell Raiser, The Ballroom Blitz and Teenage Rampage all reaching number two. The second of those in particular is another classic, and almost as good as their sole chart-topper.

By the time of Teenage Rampage, the band were calling themselves simply, Sweet. Change was in the air, as despite all they had done for them, the group were tiring of Chapman and Chinn’s control. They ditched the outlandish outfits and decided to record an album (mostly) without them, appropriately titled Sweet Fanny Adams, which showcased a harder sound. During the sessions, Connolly injured his throat in a fight, and apparently his voice was never the same again.

Next LP, Desolation Boulevard, followed six months later, and Sweet proved they could cope fine on their own with self-penned hit single Fox on the Run. They couldn’t maintain the success though, and despite moving on from glam, which was dying out by the mid-70s, their career suffered too, and The Lies In Your Eyes, the first single from self-produced 1976 album Give Us a Wink was their last chart action for two years.

By the time Sweet made their comeback, they had switched to Polydor and began experimenting with classical and the new disco style. Sounds potentially awful, yet Love Is Like Oxygen, released in January 1978, is actually pretty good. It would be their last hit. Connolly’s drinking was getting out of hand, and he became increasingly estranged from the rest of the band during support slots for Bob Seeger and the Silver Bullet Band and Alice Cooper. By the time 1979 album Cut Above the Rest was released in 1979, he had quit.

A three-piece Sweet (get it?) soldiered on, with Priest taking the lion’s share of vocal duties. They made one last album, Identity Crisis, but it didn’t even get a UK release until 1982, the year after they had split.

The former bandmates spent much of the 80s forming their own new versions of Sweet and touring the nostalgia circuit. Connolly sparked fears for his health whenever he appeared publicly, and in 1997 he died of liver failure and repeated heart attacks, aged only 51. Mick Tucker died in 2002 of leukaemia, aged 54. Priest passed away in June 2020, aged 72, leaving only Scott from the classic line-up, who still tours with Andy Scott’s Sweet.

The Outro

With their outrageous dress sense, raucous riffs and high camp, The Sweet certainly helped to liven up the early-70s, and it’s great to have had a classic to review once more. Chinnichap’ were to be responsible for plenty more chart-toppers.

The Info

Written by

Nicky Chinn & Mike Chapman

Producer

Phil Wainman

Weeks at number 1

5 (27 January-2 March)

Trivia

Births

7 February: TV presenter Kate Thornton
8 February:
Presenter Sonia Deol
27 February:
Singer Peter Andre

Deaths

28 January: Cricketer Francis Romney
16 February: Cricketer Harold Gibbons
22 February:
Novelist Elizabeth Bowen

Meanwhile…

27 February: Civil servants and rail workers went on strike.

1 March: Prog-rockers Pink Floyd released The Dark Side of the Moon, which went on to become one of the best-selling albums of all time.

323. Chuck Berry – My Ding-a-Ling (1972)

The Intro

As mentioned in my blog for Mouldy Old Dough, the UK seemed to be having a nervous breakdown as far as its number 1 singles are concerned in late-1972. Here’s further proof. Rock’n’roll pioneer Chuck Berry, one of the most influential guitarists in musical history, at the top of the charts for his one and only time with his nadir – a live recording of tawdry jokes about his penis.

Before

Charles Edward Anderson Berry was born 18 October 1926 in St Louis, Missouri. He grew up in the middle-class area known as the Ville. Berry was into music from an early age, and he gave his first public performance at Sumner High School in 1941. He was still a student there when he had his first of several run-ins with the law. In 1944 he was arrested for armed robbery after robbing three shops in Kansas City, Missouri. Berry was sent to a reformatory, where he spent his time learning to box and performing in a singing quartet. He was released on his 21st birthday in 1947.

Berry married a year later and became a father for the first time in 1950. To support his family he worked in car assembly factories and as a janitor, and he also trained to be a beautician. To help make ends meet he also played blues with local bands, and learnt riffs and tips on showmanship from T-Bone Walker. By 1953 he was performing in pianist Johnnie Johnson’s Trio, a relationship that endured, and would win over skeptical black audiences by playing country music, mixed in with ballads, blues and R&B. Soon white audiences were attending too.

Everything changed when Berry met Muddy Waters in 1955. The blues legend suggested Berry get in touch with Leonard Chess of Chess Records. Although he thought they may like his take on the blues, Chess loved his version of traditional tune Ida Red, which Berry called Maybellene. There is a strong argument for rock’n’roll beginning right here.

Classic after classic followed. In 1956 there was Roll Over Beethoven and You Can’t Catch Me (inspiration for The Beatles’ Come Together). In 1957, as rock’n’roll peaked, School Day (Ring! Ring! Goes the Bell), became his first chart hit in the UK. He went on tour that year with other greats including Buddy Holly and The Everly Brothers.

Berry’s classics kept coming for the rest of the 50s, including Rock and Roll Music, Sweet Little Sixteen, Johnny B. Goode and Memphis, Tennessee. For some reason, only Sweet Little Sixteen and Memphis, Tennessee charted over here – was this down to distribution problems? Whatever the reason, by the end of the decade he was a huge star, had starred in films, opened a racially integrated nightclub and invested in real estate. But in December 1959 he was arrested for alleged underage sex with a girl he had transported over state lines.

The 60s got off to a terrible start, with Berry sentenced in March 1960 to five years in prison. He appealed and claimed the judge was racist, but he was convicted again, and a further appeal failed. His last single before jail time was Come On in 1961, which became the first single by The Rolling Stones.

Fortunately for Berry, his release from prison in 1963 coincided with the rise of The Beatles, who covered his material, and The Beach Boys Surfin’ U.S.A. reworked Sweet Little Sixteen. Although he never reached the same commercial heights as the 50s again, there were still some great songs, and UK hits with No Particular Place to Go and You Never Can Tell in 1964. The latter of course is now best known for its use in 1994 Quentin Tarantino smash Pulp Fiction. After that his career went on the slide. He jumped ship to Mercury Records and earned a reputation for erratic live performances.

Berry returned to Chess in 1970 with the appropriately named LP Back Home. His album The London Chuck Berry Sessions was a mix of studio tracks and three live performances recorded on 3 February 1972 at the Lanchester Arts Festival in Coventry. Amazingly, the venue of the festival, the Locarno, was also the site of The Specials’ live EP Too Much Too Young The Special A.K.A. Live!, a number 1 in 1980. Berry was late for his slot, which annoyed headliners Pink Floyd as it meant they were an hour late for their set. In his band were guitarist Onnie McIntyre, drummer Robbie McIntosh, who went on to form Scottish funk outfit Average White Band, and bassist Nic Potter from prog-rockers Van Der Graaf Generator.

I’d thought in the past that My Ding-a-Ling was likely an off-the-cuff skit by Berry, but no, it’s an actual cover of a song by Dave Bartholomew, writer of many rock’n’roll hits including I Hear You Knocking, the Christmas number 1 by Dave Edmunds in 1970. Bartholomew released it first back in 1952. Berry first recorded it as My Tambourine in 1968.

Review

I of course was within my rights to think this was a skit, of course, because it’s bloody awful. Thankfully hacked down from over 11 minutes on the album, it may well be that Berry had no say in the release of this as a single, but whether it was him or Chess, what the hell made them think it was a good idea, and more to the point, why did the UK prove them right? An eager audience including Noddy Holder (Slade were one of the acts on earlier that day) lap up every minute of this Carry On-style ditty disguised as a playground rhyme. Believe me, I’m all for that type of humour at the right time, but this is just terrible. Perhaps there was just a lot of nostalgic affection for Berry at the time, with a rock’n’roll revival ongoing and bands like T. Rex paying respect?

And once again, it’s unavoidable to think of My Ding-a-Ling‘s lyrics without context, without thinking about all the light entertainment and pop stars since outed as paedophiles and Berry’s many misdemeanours with women… it makes jokes that weren’t funny to begin with even worse.

After

My Ding-a-Ling reached number 1 here and in the US, but thankfully it didn’t stick around long enough to reach the Christmas number 1 spot in 1972. Unfortunately it was beaten by an even worse song…

Another live track from the album, Reelin’ and Rockin’, was Berry’s final hit. He spent much of the 70s touring along with his Gibson guitar, relying on local bands wherever he went, which often did his reputation damage, but along the way, pre-fame Bruce Springsteen and Steve Miller were among those helping out. Springsteen later revealed Berry didn’t give the band a setlist and didn’t interact with them afterwards, but it didn’t stop him helping out again when Berry was entered into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995.

The ‘Father of Rock and Roll’ ended the decade with a gig at the White House for President Jimmy Carter in June 1979, but that year he was also sentenced to jail again – four months and 1,000 hours of community service for tax evasion.

The 80s saw Berry continue his one-man tours. In 1986, documentary Hail! Hail! Rock ‘n’ Roll covered two concerts for his 60th birthday featuring Keith Richards, Eric Clapton and Etta James, among others. But he just couldn’t keep out of trouble. In 1987 Berry was charged with assaulting a woman at New York’s Gramercy Park Hotel. He pleaded guilty to harassment and paid a fine. Three years later, he was sued by women who claimed he had installed a video camera in the cubicle of his restaurant. Although his guilt wasn’t proven he opted to settle… with all 59 women. 59 women. During this scandal his home was raided and police found a huge stash of pornography, videos, slides and books, some of which appeared to show underage girls. The child abuse allegations were eventually dropped, and seem to have been largely forgotten in many of his obituaries.

In 2000, Johnson sued Berry, claiming he deserved co-writing credits on over 50 of his songs but the case was dismissed when the judge said too much time had passed. He continued to tour, and played festivals across the globe, but on New Year’s Day 2011 he passed out with exhaustion and had to be helped off stage.

On his 90th birthday in 2017 he announced he would be releasing his first new studio album since Rockit in 1979. Chuck featured his children Charles Berry Jr and Ingrid and was dedicated to his wife Toddy, who had remained all those years. It was to be his swansong, as Berry died of a cardiac arrest on 18 March. Chuck was released to critical acclaim two months later.

The Outro

Without Chuck Berry, who knows which direction pop would have gone in. He inspired some of the greatest musicians of all time, and his iconic duckwalk is fondly remembered. Sadly, he was also a sex offender and maybe a paedophile, and this lone number 1 really doesn’t help his legacy.

The Info

Written by

Dave Bartholomew

Producer

Esmond Edwards

Weeks at number 1

4 (25 November-22 December)

Births

30 November: Labour MP Dan Jarvis
6 December: Scientist Ewan Birney
12 December: Footballer Nicky Eaden
14 December: Comedian Miranda Hart/Actor Jonathan Slinger
20 December: Labour MP Sarah Jones
21 December: Labour MP Gloria De Piero

Deaths

28 November: Composer Havergal Brian
30 November: Scottish novelist Sir Compton Mackenzie
13 December: Writer LP Hartley