The Specials weren’t the only group successfully reviving a 60s musical movement as the 80s began. Mod power trio The Jam had been around several years before achieving this first of four number 1s. And yet, had it not been for an error at the pressing plant, Going Underground/The Dreams of Children might not have shot to the top spot.
Before
The Jam go back a fair few years than many realise, as singer and bassist Paul Weller began the band aged 14 in 1972, while still at Sheerwater Secondary School in Woking, Surrey. He was joined by Steve Brookes on lead guitar and vocals, Dave Waller on rhythm guitar and Rick Buckler on drums. But this was before the frontman discovered Mod, so The Jam’s setlist mostly consisted of early US rock’n’roll covers. Waller left in 1973 and was replaced by Bruce Foxton.
When Weller heard The Who’s debut album, My Generation, everything changed. He fell totally in love with becoming a Mod. He bought a Lambretta, made the band dress in sharp suits and they started covering Motown, Atlantic and Stax soul music.
In 1975, Brookes also left. Although The Jam advertised for a new lead guitarist (and among those auditioning was apparently a young Gary Numan), Weller decided to ape The Who’s line-up. He persuaded Foxton to switch to bass and he took over full guitar duties.
In 1975, rock music was often moribund. Punk had yet to arrive, so The Jam stood out on the London scene, capturing the imagination and perhaps reminding older gig-goers of happier times. When punk did appear, Weller, Foxton and Buckler were even more distinct – their smart appearance was totally different to the ripped, scruffy clothes of the Sex Pistols and co, and they were in thrall to the 60s. But like the Sex Pistols, The Jam were angry, energetic and distinctive.
They were signed to Polydor in 1977, and that April released their debut single In the City, which peaked at 40. But they struck a chord and their album with the same name was a number 20 hit. When second single All Around the World climbed to 13, Polydor asked for more material ASAP. They completed another LP that year, This Is the Modern World, but the (almost) title track Modern World only reached 36.
In 1978 News of the World (that’s right, three singles in row with ‘world’ in the name) fared better when it peaked at 27. This was the only single to be written and sung by Foxton, and later became the theme tune to BBC Two’s Mock the Week. A third LP was quickly planned, but Weller was struggling for inspiration and their producers dismissed Foxton’s material as poor. Weller became the principle songwriter from here on in.
The influence of The Kinks on The Jam, if it wasn’t already noticeable, certainly was when they released a soundalike cover of David Watts as a double-A-side with ‘A’ Bomb in Wardour Street. These first fruits of their third album All Mod Cons climbed to 25. The next single, Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, is highly regarded as a return to form both critically and commercially, and shot to 15. It also placed a large question mark over The Jam’s early reputation as Conservative poster boys. Where previously they sang about the decline of the British Empire and disparagingly about ‘Uncle Jimmy’ Callaghan, now Weller was talking about being mugged by thugs who had been to ‘too many right wing meetings’.
In 1979 two non-album singles, Strange Town and When You’re Young, peaked at 15 and 17 respectively. Then came the first song from the next LP, Setting Sons. The Eton Rifles was rightfully their biggest yet, soaring all the way to three. In 2008, future Conservative Prime Minister, the Etonian David Cameron, called himself a fan of the song back in the day, causing a furious Weller to state ‘it wasn’t a fucking jolly drinking song for the cadet corps’.
The Dreams of Children, recorded during the Setting Sons sessions but not on the LP, was to be their first single of the new decade. It wasn’t on the album, but considering the LP was originally a concept album about three childhood friends, perhaps it was intended to feature originally. It saw the trio broadening their sonic palette with producer Vic Coppersmith-Heaven, while the intended B-side was an angry tirade at the people in power.
However, there was a mix-up at the pressing plant, and this single became a double A-side. Because of this, radio DJs mostly preferred to spin the snappier, catchier, more immediate fare intended for side B.
Reviews
It seems obvious in retrospect that Going Underground deserved to be the A-side. And what a number 1 as the Thatcher era was just getting started. In just a few minutes, Weller succinctly wipes away any doubt of whose side he’s on. And he does it with no small measure of belligerence and fire in his belly. Over jagged guitar strikes, this reads like the manifesto of a man who is so sickened with the state of his country and its politics, he’s retreating from modern life. The only negative to this song is how it resonates even more now than it did in 1980, particularly ‘Some people might get some pleasure out of hate.’
The beauty of Going Underground is how The Jam make such a bleak message so uplifting. We shouldn’t be celebrating the need to opt out of society, but doesn’t it sound so good? And there is a small glint of hope as the song ends ‘Well, let the boys all sing and let the boys all shout for tomorrow’. Not that there’s much hope in 2023 – the other side aren’t offering much to get excited about as another election looms.
There have already been some classic number 1s in the first quarter of 1980. This is the best of the bunch, ahead even of Atomic.
The fact there’s a video for Going Underground is puzzling. If this was always intended as a B-side, why is there one at all? However, the fact both mostly feature the band performing in front of a white background wearing very similar clothes suggests it could have been filmed in the same session. The Going Underground film is one of the most enduring images of the young, angry Weller, resplendent in a scarf, interspersed with images of Uncle Sam, atomic explosions and photos of Conservative Prime Ministers (plus, interestingly, Labour’s Harold Wilson), pushed to one side.
The Dreams of Children is a decent track too, but I doubt it would have become their first chart-topper on its own. Opening with backmasking from Setting Sons track Thick as Thieves, it’s an early sign of Weller’s love of psychedelic rock, and the lyric is akin to songs from that era about loss of innocence, like Pink Floyd’s Remember a Day.
Like Going Underground, The Dreams of Children paints a bleak picture – bleaker in fact. And very true, because Weller explains how he had a glimpse of optimism in his dreams, before waking up ‘sweating from this modern nightmare’. The closing refrain of ‘You will choke on your dreams tonight’ paints a very bleak picture. Interesting stuff, with some nice bass playing from Foxton.
The video is less simple than Going Underground, cutting between the band playing outdoors, hanging out near somewhere derelict and performing once more against a simple white background but with added camera and lighting equipment.
After
The Jam were touring the US to small crowds when they heard Going Underground/The Dreams of Children had made it to number 1. They immediately returned home and prepared for a triumphant Top of the Pops appearance.
The Outro
A version of Going Underground by US rock band Buffalo Tom climbed to number six in 1999, as a double A-side with a version of Carnation by Liam Gallagher and Steve Cradock.
The Info
Written by
Paul Weller
Producer
Vic Coppersmith-Heaven
Weeks at number 1
3 (22 March-11 April)
Trivia
Births
23 March: Comedian Russell Howard 24 March: Sports presenter Amanda Davies 28 March: Labour MP Angela Rayner 3 April: Fascist Conservative MP Suella Braverman 8 April: Actor Ben Freeman/Scottish field hockey midfielder Cheryl Valentine
Deaths
22 March: Historian Evelyn Procter 23 March: Journalist SW Alexander/Royal Navy admiral Sir Henry McCall/Labour MP Charles Pannell, Baron Pannell/Red Cross aid worker Joan Whittington/Racehorse trainer Norah Wilmot 24 March: Actor John Barrie 26 March: Army major-general Basil Coad/Botanist Lily Newton 30 March: Labour MP Francis Douglas, 1st Baron Douglas of Barloch/Trade union leader Jim Hammond 22 March: Historian Evelyn Procter 23 March: Journalist SW Alexander/Royal Navy admiral Sir Henry McCall/Labour MP Charles Pannell, Baron Pannell/Red Cross aid worker Joan Whittington/Racehorse trainer Norah Wilmot – Evelyn Procter, historian (born 1897) 24 March: Actor John Barrie 26 March: Botanist Lily Newton 30 March: Labour MP Francis Douglas, 1st Baron Douglas of Barloch/Trade union leader Jim Hammond 31 March: Actor John Nightingale 1 April: Actress Cicely Courtneidge/Director Alfred Hitchcock/Actress Joyce Heron 2 April: Long distance runner George Wallach 3 April: Geophysicist Sir Edward Bullard/Actress Isla Cameron/Army major-general Sir Alexander Douglas Campbell/Chemist Ulick Richardson Evans 5 April: Scottish composer Hector MacAndrew 6 April: Film director Antony Balch/Writer John Collier/Philosopher Sir Thomas Malcolm Knox 8 April: Horticulturalist Beatrix Havergal 10 April: Writer Antonia White 11 April: Legal historian Norman Hargreaves-Mawdsley/Actor Nicholas Phipps
Meanwhile…
25 March: The British Olympic Association votes to send athletes to the Olympic Games in Moscow, USSR, in the summer, in defiance of the government’s boycott. Also on this day, Robert Runcie becomes the Archbishop of Canterbury.
26 March: On Budget Day, Chancellor Geoffrey Howe announces raises in tax allowances and duties on petrol, alcohol and tobacco.
31 March: British Leyland agrees to sell its MG factory in Abingdon to Aston Martin-Lagonda in the autumn.
1 April: The steelworkers’ strike is called off, and Britain’s first official naturist beach is opened in Brighton.
2 April: 130 people were arrested after rioting in St Pauls, Bristol.
3 April: The Assisted Places Scheme introduces free or subsidised places for children at fee-paying independent schools, based on examination performances. It also gives parents more powers on governing bodies and admisssions, and removes the obligation for local education authorities to provide school meals and milk. Thatcher, Thatcher, milk snatcher.
4 April: Alton Towers Resort was opened as a theme park.
10 April: The UK and Spain come to an agreement, and the latter reopens its border with Gibraltar.
Welcome, welcome, welcome home to Every UK Number 1! Don’t worry, it’s a very niche reference…
Back on we go, with the decade that truly shaped my musical tastes – the 80s (I was born in April 1979). Yet another weird and wonderful 10 years of pop, that started out extremely positively thanks to the foundations set in the late 70s… before, perhaps, the rot begins to set in during the mid-point.
But before we find out if that’s true, let’s go back to January 1980, with the sole number one by new wave outfit Pretenders. Brass in Pocket was by a strong, ballsy woman. But, contrary to popular belief, it’s not about one.
Before
In fact, let’s go further back – to 7 September 1951, when Christine Ellen Hynde was born, in Akron, Ohio. The daughter of a part-time secretary and a Yellow Pages manager, Hynde rebelled from an early age. She recalled in Rolling Stone how she wasn’t interested in high school, or dates either. But she was interested in bands, the counterculture and vegetarianism.
While at Kent State University’s Art School, she joined her first group – Sat. Sun. Mat. – which also featured Mark Mothersbaugh, later of Devo. She was also there during the infamous Kent State Massacre of 1970, in which four Vietnam protestors were killed, including the boyfriend of a friend of Hynde’s.
Hynde moved to London three years later, and within nine months was in a relationship with famed music journalist Nick Kent. She even worked at the NME alongside him, but not for long. Soon after, she was working at Sex, the famed boutique run by Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood.
This was just the start of her connection to the early punk movement. Returning from time in France and back in Cleveland, she asked both Steve Jones and then Johnny Rotten to marry her in order to gain a work permit. Rotten was initially up for it but after pulling out, Sid Vicious offered. Fortunately, the big day clashed with a court appearance for the eventual Sex Pistols bassist. A narrow escape.
Hynde briefly appeared in several bands, including Masters of the Backside – soon to be known as The Damned, and The Moors Murderers, featuring Steve Strange, later of Visage.
In 1978 she gave a demo tape to Dave Hill (not the Slade guitarist), owner of Real Records and subsequently manager to the Pretenders after he suggested she get a band together. The original line-up of Pretenders (named after Sam Cooke’s version of The Great Pretender) consisted of Hynde and bassist Pete Farndon. They soon added James Honeyman-Scott (guitar, vocals and keyboard) and Martin Chambers (drums, vocals and percussion) to the mix.
Pretenders recorded a demo tape and Hynde handed it to her friend, singer-songwriter Nick Lowe. He was impressed and produced their debut single – a cover of The Kinks’ Stop Your Sobbing, which scraped into the charts at 34 in 1979. Lowe stepped away from further sessions and was succeeded by Chris Thomas. Second single Kid did one better than the first single.
As the Pretenders worked on their eponymous debut LP in 1978-79, one song that had hit potential was Brass in Pocket. Originating from a guitar lick by Honeyman-Scott, Hynde had intended to turn it into a Motown-style tune but that changed during recording. The title was inspired by the first-ever Pretenders gig. After the show, Hynde asked whose trousers were sprawled over a chair in their dressing room, shared with support act The Strangeways. One member of the band, Ada Wilson, ‘I’ll have them if there’s any brass in the pockets’. In this instance, ‘brass’ is Northern slang for money, and it’s not the only bit of colourful language here. Hynde also included other slang such as ‘reet’ and ‘got bottle’.
Review
Thinking back to 1980, anyone who knew of Hynde’s background but hadn’t heard any Pretenders before Brass in Pocket must have been surprised. There’s no punk element to be found, and hardly even any rock. What Brass in Pocket has embodied to most listeners through the years, is that confident swagger Hynde has always had. She’s smart, sexy and confident, but actually more in the mould of a Suzy Quatro than a Johnny Rotten. But of course, the actual music here is tamer even than Quatro’s glam bluster. It’s a soft, catchy, almost plaintive tune. The attitude is all in the words and Hynde’s performance.
If you thought Brass in Pocket was sung from a female perspective, so did I, but we were wrong. In a 1980 Sounds interview, Hynde explained it’s basically about an insecure guy down the pub, geeing himself up to put up a front down the pub with his mates and be ‘one of the lads’. I’m sure you can add to that that he’s hoping to pull, too.
All in all, the image of this guy, ‘Detroit leaning’ (driving around with one hand on the wheel) and skanking, conjures up the image of a bit of a twerp. Discovering this simultaneously makes you view the song differently, and kind of tarnishes it a little. It might partially explain Hynde’s ambivalence towards her biggest hit. Initially she had told Thomas she could release it over her dead body as she hated her vocal, and for a long time she hated performing Brass in Pocket, but age seems to have mellowed her.
Hynde wasn’t a fan of the video either, and again, you can’t blame her. She played a waitress in a rundown cafe, while the rest of the band turn up in a large pink car, with Farndon doing some Detroit leaning of his own. Highlight/lowlights include Honeyman-Scott/Chambers miming terribly the ‘Special!’ backing vocals while holding up the selection of specials on the cafe menu. Bit literal, lads. Farndon and Hynde seem to have a thing going, but the tension is interrupted by three girls who enter the cafe and immediately begin snogging the men. They all leave the cafe and Hynde remains alone and upset. Her initial plan was to have the band arrive on motorbikes and rescue her from her drab life.
So who was right about Brass in Pocket – Hynde or the public? I’m going to side with the latter. It’s a rather low-key start to the decade, but then, every decade up to this point had similar, so no change there. It’s stood the test of time as a memorable enough tune. However, it’s not even Pretenders’ best (I prefer Don’t Get Me Wrong and 2000 Miles). And how did it happen, after two previous relative flops?
Well, the excellent, insightful and blisteringly funny folks at the Chart Music podcast uncovered an edition of World in Action from 1980, called The Chart Busters. Brass in Pocket was among the songs which the programme claimed did so well because of underhanded tactics from the music industry. I’m not aware of how much the Pretenders knew about this.
After
Whatever the controversy over the performance of Brass in Pocket, debut album Pretenders was a critical and commercial success. And the follow-up Pretenders II contained the hits Talk of the Town (number eight in 1980), Message of Love (11 in 1981) and other Ray Davies track, I Go to Sleep (seven, also in 1981). But there was trouble ahead. Farndon was sacked by the others for drug abuse that June, and two days later, Honeyman-Scott died of heart failure due to cocaine intolerance.
Hynde assembled a new line-up with Chambers, featuring members of Rockpile and Big Country, for comeback single Back on the Chain Gang, which went to 17 in 1982. Farndon, who was trying to form a new band, was found dead in the bath after overdosing on heroin in April 1983,
That November, a new line-up featuring Hynde and Chambers with Robbie McIntosh on guitar and Malcolm Foster on bass released the lovely seasonal ballad 2000 Miles, which went on to feature on many a Christmas compilation. This first single from 1984 album Learning to Crawl peaked at 15. Pretenders performed at Live Aid in 1985, but soon after Hynde sacked Chambers, making her the sole original member. Foster quit in protest.
1985 was also the year that Hynde had the first of two number 1s with other artists. Sadly it was the awful reggae-lite cover of Sonny & Cher’s 1965 chart-topper I Got You Babe with UB40.
The next Pretenders album, Get Close, was recorded with various session musicians. Released in 1986, Hynde must have felt vindicated when Don’t Get Me Wrong soared to 10 and Hymn to Her outdoing it at eight. But the latter was their last top 10 hit for eight years, and there were yet more line-up changes. Parliament/Funkadelic’s Bernie Worrell briefly featured on keyboards while they toured, and Johnny Marr, post-Smiths, joined the band in 1987 for a year. That same year they recorded two tracks for the soundtrack to James Bond movie The Living Daylights.
The 90s didn’t begin too well, with Hynde the only official Pretender on unsuccessful LP Packed! in 1990. Three years later Hynde teamed up with guitarist Adam Seymour to form a new version of the group with a revolving door of bassists (including Andy Rourke from The Smiths) and drummers. By the time the next album Last of the Independents was finished and released in 1994, Chambers had returned and was joined by Andy Hobson of The Primitives. And they struck gold, with power ballad I’ll Stand by You, a number 10 smash and a number 1 in 2004 for Girls Aloud. But it was the last time they made a serious impact on the charts.
In 1995 Hynde had another rubbish chart-topping cover outside of the Pretenders name. This time, the tedious power ballad Love Can Build a Bridge with (ironically) Cher, plus Neneh Cherry and Eric Clapton. It was that year’s official Comic Relief single. No laughing matter.
The Pretenders settled into the career of a band who will always have faithful support, but no longer trouble the charts. They collaborated with Tom Jones on his 1999 album Reload, and Human was their last song to enter the top 40, making it to 33 in the same year.
Since the new millennium, the Pretenders line-up has continued to change as five albums came and went. Loose Screw in 2003, Break Up the Concrete in 2008, Alone in 2016, Hate for Sale in 2020 and most recently, Relentless in 2023. In 2005 they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where Hynde paid tribute to Honeyman-Scott and Farndon.
Brass in Pocket features in a memorable scene in the 2004 film Lost in Translation, in which Scarlett Johansson performs the song at karaoke to Bill Murray.
The Outro
Brass in Pocket continued the trend for edgy, new wave pop that would continue to chart well in the late-70s and early 80s. But it was only the start of a bumper year of a diverse range of number 1s, which would end with the death of an icon.
The Info
Written by
Chrissie Hynde & James Honeyman-Scott
Producer
Chris Thomas
Weeks at number 1
2 (19 January-1 February)
Trivia
Births
19 January: Grime MC D Double E 20 January: Racing driver Jenson Button/Welsh Bullet for My Valentine singer Matthew Tuck 21 January: Boxer Nicky Booth 30 January: Model Leilani Dowding 31 January: Journalist Clarissa Ward
Deaths
27 January: Economist Sir Eric Wyndham White
Meanwhile…
19 January: The first UK Indie Chart was published in trade weekly Record Business. The first number 1 was Where’s Captain Kirk by Spizzenergi.
20 January: The record for largest TV audience for a film in the UK is set when 23,500,000 viewers watch the James Bond film Live and Let Die (1973).
21 January: MS Athing B is beached in Brighton.
28 January: A controversial edition of Granada Television’s current affairs series World in Action is broadcast on ITV. It alleged that Manchester United chairman Louis Edwards made unauthorised payments to the parents of young players in the club, as well as dodgy deals to try and win the local council meat contracts for his chain of retail outlets.
Back to my occasional number 2 spin-offs. I’ve nearly finished writing my reviews of every 70s number 1, and realised I hadn’t yet done the runners-up of the 60s. And it’s a wonder, because some of the greatest number 2s in history came about in the 60s. One in particular is so good, I’m thinking it’s already a foregone conclusion that it’s the winner. While this is very likely, it still gives me chance to listen to some old favourites and a surprising large amount I’d never heard before.
So, as usual, I’ll pick a best and worst for each year of the decade, and then an overall pick for best and worst of the decade. And the songs I run through reached no higher than number 2, so future and past number 1s aren’t included.
1960
A very typical mix rock’n’roll tracks and rather dull traditional pop kicks the decade off. Cliff Richard and The Shadows crop up A LOT in this list and here’s the first. Voice in the Wilderness, thanks to some nice guitar from The Shadows, is probably his best of the decade, from the film, Expresso Bongo. Johnny Preston’s Cradle of Love is far less weird than his chart-topper Running Bear, but it’s still pretty odd lyrically, as it’s full of nursery rhyme references. Connie Francis had some great number 1s, but the double A-side Mama/Robot Man is poor in comparison. Particularly the former. The latter, sadly, isn’t the brilliant indie-funk by The Aliens. Duane Eddy crops up for the first time with Because They’re Young, co-produced by Lee Hazlewood. And Elvis Presley is here too, with the B-side of It’s Now or Never. Nice barrelhouse piano, but it’s not up there with his classics. As usual, Shirley Bassey hurts my ears with her version of As Long as He Needs Me from Oliver!. The year ends with one of the more famous early singles here, SavetheLast Dance for Me by The Drifters.
The Best
Percy Faith –Theme from ‘A Summer Place’
This was a surprise. Perhaps I picked it because it was the one I was most familiar with, but it still seems odd it won out. Not normally my sort of thing at all but the tune is simply very good isn’t it? The original version had lyrics and was written for the 1959 film starring Sandra Dee.
The Worst
ConnieFrancis– Mama/Robot Man
Ugh. I expected better from Francis after her great chart-toppers. Mama is awful. Yes it is an Italian song, from the 40s, but listening to her over-the-top performance in Italian is cringeworthy and it’s really dated compared to her own rock’n’roll-style numbers. Robot Man is more like it, a catchy pop number about how Francis would prefer a robot boyfriend as it wouldn’t let her down… Just a shame it’s not the indie-funk classic by The Aliens that shares its title.
1961
Only a small selection, but they’re all pretty good. Duane Eddy is back with another pretty cool instrumental. Pepe originally featured in a musical comedy of the same name. Eddy’s version has some nice, raucous backing vocals. It’s followed by Eurovision runner-up Are You Sure? by The Allisons. Not my sort of thing, but this slice of dreamy teen pop has some lovely harmonies. Bobby Darin can always be relied upon to put in a great effort, and his punchy, swinging version of 1930s standard Lazy River is no exception. US pop star Ricky Nelson’s double A-side Hello Mary Lou/Travelling Man is of course more famous for the rock’n’classic former, written by Gene Pitney. The other track has some annoying bass backing vocal, which I should have known were by The Jordannaires, Elvis Presley’s backing singers. Elvis’s influence appears on Billy Fury’s version of the 1925 tango Jealousy, which is pretty good.
The Best
Jimmy Dean – Big Bad John
I often run a mile from country-western music, but Big Bad John is one cool customer, despite being familiar to me because of its use in adverts for Domestos bleach in the 80s (Big Bad Dom). Nice sparse, menacing production, about a miner who killed a man over a Cajun queen.
The Worst
John Leyton – Wild Wind
Nothing wrong with Leyton’s number two at all, it’s just the least attention-grabbing of the 1961 batch. Despite also not being as great as his 1961 number 1 classic Johnny Remember Me, it’s a powerful performance by Leyton, and manages to capture the sound of a wild wind pretty well.
1962
A big, eclectic batch to wade through here. Midnight in Moscow (a Russian tune originally known as Moscow Nights) outstays its welcome a bit but it’s a pleasant enough jazz tune by Morecambe and Wise’s favourite guests, Kenny Ball and His Jazzmen. Acker Bilk’s famous instrumental Stranger on the Shore follows and slows things down nicely enough but I’m not sure why it’s as highly regarded as it is. Guess you had to be there. First British song to go to number 1 in the US, incidentally. Fascinatingly low vocal from teenager Helen Shapiro on Tell Me What She Said, and it really makes an otherwise average pop song stand out. Then it’s… The Big O! As always, Roy Orbison is in fine voice with Dream Baby, but this is rather average by his standards. Is it because he’s not depressed enough? The original Hey! Baby, performed by Bruce Channel, isn’t half as annoying as the DJ Ötzi version, released in 2000. Channel turned John Lennon on to the harmonica, as used in Love Me Do, fact fans. Cliff Richard and The Shadows are back with some better material this time – Do You Want to Dance/I’m Looking Out the Window and It’ll Be Me. The first and third of these are pretty good. Cheeky chipper Cockney Joe Brown disappoints with A Picture of You… I didn’t know he pretended to be American? Speaking of comedy accents, Pat Boone’s Speedy Gonzales has some hilarious cliched Mexican wailing at the start, and then none other than Mel Blanc, voice of Speedy himself, makes an appearance! Bobby Darin is back with Things but it’s a bit cheesy and somewhat of a letdown. Couple of novelty dance classics to round things up – what is it about these that makes them still fresh? I’m talking about Little Eva’s The Loco-Motion and Let’s Dance by Chris Montez.
The Best
Chubby Checker – Let’s Twist Again
Easily the best track so far. This just hasn’t dated at all. It’s fun, catchy and Checker’s voice is unique and still sounds great. The 1960 original The Twist is still almost as good, too. My only problem with Let’sTwist Again is that I keep expecting The Fat Boys to interject.
The Worst
Del Shannon –Swiss Maid
Well, this is a million miles from Shannon’s classic Runaway. You can give early-60s songs some leeway for being politically incorrect, but this is also totally forgettable.
1963
The year in which pop music changed forever. Thankfully. Easy listening is still around, and Can’t Get Used to Losing You by Andy Williams was later a hit for The Beat. I was looking forward to hearing Jet Harris and Tony Meehan as I enjoyed the former Shadows members’ number 1 Diamonds. But ScarlettO’Hara was a bit of a let down other than the drum break. Harris isn’t even on it, but Joe Moretti of Johnny Kidd and The Pirates is. Then, we’re full swing into the Beatles era with the first cover of the Fab Four. There’s no escaping the fact that Billy J Kramer with The Dakotas’ version of Do You Want to Know a Secret? sorely misses the backing vocals of Lennon and McCartney. There’s another instrumental by The Shadows next, but Atlantis comes across as a lacklustre rewrite of WonderfulLand. Freddie and the Dreamers were a pleasant surprise – Garrity’s weird dance always made me think of them as laughable, but I’m Telling You Now is a great example of beat music. And The Searchers’ Sugar and Spice, written by Tony Hatch, has also aged well. Nice jangly guitar and backing vocals. But then there’s Cliff – always Cliff, never far away – ready to bring things back down to earth. Two this year – a run-of-the-mill cover of 50s number 1 It’s All in the Game, and then he’s back with The Shadows, bossing a lady around on Don’t Talk to Him. It’s rubbish, but there is a good guitar solo. Were it not for John, Paul, George and Ringo, I’d most likely say Then He Kissed Me by The Crystals was the pick of 1963. It’s aged very well.
The Best
The Beatles – Please Please Me
Even with their earliest, most basic material, The Beatles are streets ahead of their competitors in 1963. It’s in the harmonica, the harmonies, the energy. Everything really. I’ll always prefer Love Me Do, and hardcore fans would argue PleasePlease Me was a number 1 anyway, but not in the ‘official’ chart this blog uses as reference.
Things are looking up in this year. I assumed The Swinging Blue Jeans’ Hippy Hippy Shake was a Beatles soundalike, but the song is actually from 1959. It’s a great, welcome burst of energy to this playlist. Gerry and the Pacemakers’ I’m the One is OK, but doesn’t compare to their three chart-toppers. Unlike Bits and Pieces by The Dave Clark Five. The percussion on this top slice of the Tottenham Sound was achieved by two members drunkenly stomping on an exercise board. Also loved Just One Look by The Hollies, though originally by Doris Troy. The Bachelors typically slow things down to a crawl and sound very old-fashioned compared to recent fare. But their version of I Believe, a 1953 number 1, does have an impressive ending. Jamaican teenager Millie Small’s My Boy Lollipop is one of the most famous ska songs of all time, and still sounds great. I really struggle with Frankie Valli’s voice most of the time, and Rag Doll by The Four Seasons is no exception. Gene Pitney is another matter, however. He always puts in a great performance, even with lacklustre material like I’m GonnaBe Strong. Rounding things off nicely is Downtown, that classic Bacharach and David song by Petula Clark that is way better than either of her number 1s.
The Best
The Kinks – All Day and All of the Night
Totally excellent, still. This is the first runner-up for the number 1 spot that will have made The Beatles sit up and take notice that the rest were catching up. I think I prefer this to their chart-topper You Really Got Me. Together, these Kinks songs invented heavy metal.
The Worst
Brian Poole and The Tremeloes – Someone, Someone
An obscure B-side by The Crickets deserves to be left obscure after hearing this version by a frequently disappointing beat also-rans.
1965
Oh god, Cilla Black’s version of You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling is up first… It’s not quite as bad as I feared. Ah, actually, I’ve just got to the ending. Arrrggghhh. Although the lyrics to Wayne Fontana & the Mindbenders’ The Game of Love sound rather sexist in 2022, it’s a great tune and over all too quickly for me. It’s quickly followed up by another great track. Well, the chorus to Them’s Here Comes the Night is great at least, with Van Morrison sounding great. But the verses are crap! That’s Jimmy Page in session guitarist role, incidentally. Peter and Gordon’s cover of Buddy Holly’s True Love Ways contains typically lovely harmonies, but the tune’s not up to much. I wonder if the harmonica on The Everly Brothers’ The Price of Love is them returning the favour of their influence on The Beatles? Heart Full of Soul has a spellbinding intro, and this track by The Yardbirds is one of the first examples of raga rock thanks to Jeff Beck’s work. But the rest of the track sadly doesn’t live up to that initial sound. Ah, but then we have We’ve Gotta Get Out of This Place, and this classic by The Animals leaves most other 1965 number twos for dust. Love that keyboard sound. The first ever song by prolific hitmakers Rogers Cook and Greenaway follows, and You’ve Got Your Troubles by The Fortunes has aged well. If You’ve Gotta Go, Go Now by Manfred Mann is OK, but kind of gets lost in the crowd. It’s not nearly as good as their chart-topper – also originally by Bob Dylan. Andy Williams’ version of Almost There is fairly forgettable.
The Best
The Who– My Generation
Pete Townshend was really pissed off one day to discover the Queen Mother had ordered his hearse to be towed away from a street in Belgravia because she was offended by the sight of it. He got on a train and wrote ‘People try to put us down/Just because we get around’ and came up with one of the best songs to never make it to number 1. Still rocks hard. Still electrifying. And it never will get old.
The Worst
Cliff Richard – Wind Me Up (Let Me Go)
Oh dear. Cliff is a little tin soldier, but unlike the Small Faces classic Tin Soldier, this leaves little impression. Might have been better with The Shadows helping out.
1966
Things start to get weirder, and there’s some brilliant stuff here. You Were on My Mind by Crispian St Peters is pretty decent mid-60s pop. I love this period of The Rolling Stones. There’s a great edge to the music, dark nihilistic lyrics by Mick Jagger, and Bill Wyman’s bass sounds great on 19th Nervous Breakdown. The Mindbenders’ version of A Groovy Kind of Love still sounds lovely. That’s 10cc’s Eric Stewart on the vocal. The Hollies are back with another cool track – I Can’t Let Go has an exciting intro nice chiming guitars and as always with Graham Nash and co, great harmonies. The Lovin’ Spoonful’s Daydream shows the counterculture starting to make a mark in the charts, and this lazy, sloping tune never grows old. And nor does Sloop John B! One of my favourite Beach Boys classics might have innocent enough lyrics but anyone who’s ever overdone it at a festival gets the double meaning of the lyrics. And then another classic! Wild Thing by The Troggs is another evergreen product of its time. Such primitive simplicity, and I love the flute. Cool baroque pop from good old Gene Pitney next, and NobodyNeeds Your Love is one I didn’t know but enjoyed. Great chorus. I have to confess I’d totally forgotten about Black is Black until now. Shame on me, because it’s ace. Very Stonesy groove and a similarly dark mood to it from the the Spanish group Los Bravos. We sample the lighter side of The Who next with I’m a Boy. Not bad, but the lyrics would probably stir quite a reaction if it came out these days. It’s worth bearing in mind that it was planned for a musical about a future in which you could order the sex of your children. Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich were weird weren’t they? I mean, the name suggests that anyway, obviously, but still… Anyway, Bend It! is lots of fun, with it’s quirky Greek sound. The Troggs return with another horny blast of their brand of pop. I Can’t Control Myself is underrated. The Hollies return with StopStopStop, but it’s not up there with previous records. Semi-Detached Suburban Mr James has interesting Beatles-style lyrics but the tune is a bit average. Gimme Some Lovin’ still sounds brilliant. Not bad for half an hour’s work by The Spencer Davis Group. What Would I Be is a huge step in the wrong direction after so much great progressive pop, but I have to confess I can’t help but like old Valerie Doonican.
The Best
The Beach Boys – God Only Knows
For any song to rank above this selection, it obviously has to be great. Well this is better than that. This beautiful, tender, transcendental love sone still towers above the crowd. One of the greatest opening couplets of all time, some of the most beautiful, swoon some vocals from Carl Wilson, and the genius of his brother Brian. It’s simply breathtaking.
The Worst
The Seekers –Morningtown Ride
Oh man. What a dour note to end such a great batch of songs from. Boring, nauseous and overly sentimental pap from the Australian folk group.
1967
A storming start to another brilliant year of selections. The Donovan classic Sunshine Superman shows psychedelia had arrived. Half of Led Zeppelin – Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones – are on this as session musicians. Next up is The Move’s debut single, and Night of Fear is OK, but better was to come from them. Matthew & Son is more fun than Cat Stevens’ later work, and it’s one I’ve loved since childhood. It’s named after the tailor that made his suits, incidentally. I’m happy to report I’ve never seen The Sound of Music, but I can’t deny that Edelweiss is a lovely tune, sung here by Vince Hill. Comedian Harry Seacombe puts in a typically over-the-top performance of This Is My Song, also a number 1 this year for Petula Clark. The Mamas & the Papas’ Dedicated to the One I Love is a sweet number, and I like the piano break. The Kinks’ Waterloo Sunset… well, what a classic. Ray Davies penned one beautiful track here and this could easily rank as the song of the year really. Alternate Title! This was The Monkees’ Randy Scouse Git, named after a line singer Micky Dolenz heard on the sitcom Till Death Us Do Part, but their record label decided it was too risky to call it that here. It’s brilliant. Vikki Carr’s It Must Be Him drags things down somewhat. Could have sworn it was Cilla Black singing it. Matters remain mundane thanks to the Tom Jones ballad (It Looks Like ) I’ll Never Fall in Love – co-written by Lonnie Donegan. Next, there’s a triple-bill of great psych-pop. Excerpt from A Teenage Opera by Keith West is mad but catchy as hell and a fascinating glimpse into a musical that never got made. Famously the first ever song to be played on Radio 1, Flowers in the Rain sees the return of The Move and then there’s Traffic’s Hole in My Shoe, which was also a number two hit for Nigel Planer as The Young Ones‘ hippy Neil in 1984. The Dave Clark Five’s Everybody Knows isn’t a patch on their better-known tracks and then Tom Jones returns with the middling and maudlin I’m Coming Home. Finally, it’s the Magical Mystery Tour double EP, in which The Beatles rounded off an incredible year with songs from their ill-received movie, shown on Boxing Day on BBC One. The title track is fun psych-pop, Your Mother Should Know, probably my least favourite, nonetheless ends the film nicely. I Am the Walrus is one of the year’s highlights. A classic production, with a fascinating angry vocal from Lennon. The Fool and the Hill is lovely and wistful, and then Flying follows, a rare instrumental credited to the entire band. And the last track, George Harrison’s Blue Jay Way, holds a special place in my heart, as believe it or not, it’s the song that really turned me on to the Fab Four.
The Best
The Beatles – Penny Lane/Strawberry Field Forever
Well, this was a foregone conclusion, really. The Beatles are my favourite band of all time and StrawberryFields Forever is probably their best song in my eyes. It’s frankly criminal thatRelease Me should have made this their first single since 1963 to not make it to number 1. I don’t know what I can add to the millions of words written about this double-bill, but just to say that it’s a great example of John Lennon and Paul McCartney’s strengths and differences in songwriting. Penny Lane, however, I probably find a little overrated (I better prepare myself for some criticism for saying that!). Whereas StrawberryFields Forever encapsulates the LSD experience so well. George Martin deserves a lot of credit for joining two different versions of Lennon’s vision together, one dreamy and pastoral, one far darker. Just incredible.
The Worst
Engelbert Humperdinck – ThereGoes My Everything
In a year of such brave experimentation and forward-thinking pop, Humperdinck deserves singling out for somehow outperforming some of the greatest songs ever made (see above) with MOR pap, and this is a good example of that genre.
1968
As albums began to overtake singles in popularity, there’s a noticeable drop in quality this year. Having said that, Tom Jones is back but we all know Delilah is a fan favourite for a reason – it’s way superior to his previous dreary ballads here. Next up, a real blast from the past. Simon Says, by 1910 Bubblegum Company, is a song I haven’t heard since primary school. Put a smile on my face and I like the keyboard. Humperdinck is back with more MOR. Bobby Goldsboro’s Honey is a so-so ballad about a man’s dead wife, that reminds me of Uncle Peter on The Smell of Reeves & Mortimer, who broke out into it during the first series. Then it’s The Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp by country singer Johnny Darrell is totally new to me here and came as a pleasant surprise. There’s some great drumming in this soaringly jolly tale about a woman with 14 children and an alcoholic husband who turns to prostitution. Similarly, there’s also Little Arrows by Leapy Lee. No idea who that is and this was also previously unheard by me. It’s cool and sounds like the theme to some weird children’s show. Lincoln pop group The Casuals were former Opportunity Knocks winners and their Jesamine is OK, I guess. Barry Ryan with the Majority’s Eloise had a similar effect on me, but I did particularly like the orchestral slowdown. Nina Simone’s medley of tracks from Hair, Ain’t Got No, I Got Life, is of course, excellent thanks to a brilliant performance by the legendary singer. So What You Do, which was new to me, isn’t as good, but it’s a decent enough slow. And then, there’s the always enjoyable Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations.
The Best
Small Faces –Lazy Sunday
Evergreen psych-pop classic by one of the better bands of the decade. Singer Steve Marriott’s over-the-top Cockney vocal was inspired by an argument with The Hollies, who accused him of having never sung in his own accent. I just wish that lovely outdo lasted a bit longer, it’s a sudden contrast after the catchy silliness of the better-known knees-up majority of the song.
The Worst
Engelbert Humperdinck –A Man Without Love
Sigh. I mean, this is actually better than his previous hits here, but that’s not saying much at all.
1969
We’re nearly there folks. Gentle on My Mind is better known due to Glenn Campbell’s version, but it’s Dean Martin here, with a predictably great vocal. Not bad. Then, it’s Lulu with her Eurovision winner Boom Bang-a-Bang. Now, I’m not a fan of Lulu at all and think she’s really overrated, but I have a bit of a soft spot for this! I thought Mary Hopkin was a one-hit wonder, but I was surprised when I heard Goodbye that I didn’t realise it was her. Like her number 1, this was written and produced by McCartney. Herman’s Hermits’ My Sentimental Friend is pretty decent, and I really like the chorus. Fleetwood Mac’s Man of the World is even better – it’s a lovely melancholy blues with a really gentle vocal by the soon-to-leave Peter Green. Classic uplifting gospel next courtesy of the Edwin Hawkins Singers. Did you know that this famous live version of Oh Happy Day is based on a gospel arrangement from 1967 of a hymn that dates back to 1755? Well, if it isn’t Elvis Presley next! It’s his all-too-short-lived revival period too, so In the Ghetto towers over many of his number 1s. It was his first top 10 hit in three years. Robin Gibb had at this point fallen out with brothers Barry and Maurice and was going it alone. Saved by the Bell got him off to a great start but it wasn’t long before he was a Bee Gee once more. I’m all for a depressing ballad but I feel like this is a bit much. And then the next act to narrowly miss number 1 was… The Bee Gees! Yep, Barry and Maurice’s Don’t Forget to Remember isn’t a patch on the material that sparked their disco comeback. Clearly they worked better as a trio. Much better is the return of Fleetwood Mac here with, other than Albatross, their best track with Green. The only negative aspect to Oh Well is that they didn’t do more with that riff, because it’s as good as any early Led Zeppelin. The second part of the track is cool, but not nearly as cool. The Tremeloes are back without Brian Poole, and the ironically titled (Call Me) Number One is not bad at all. I love the epic guitar, and it’s an interesting oddity, all in all. It’s better to finally have Stevie Wonder show up then him not feature at all, but there are so many better songs by this genius than Yester-Me, Yester-You, Yesterday. And the decade of almost-chart-toppers comes to an end with Kenny Rogers’ Ruby Don’t Take Your Love to Town. It’s OK – nice scratchy guitar – but a strange track to end the decade on. Not as strange as the song that beat it to number 1, though.
The Best
Plastic Ono Band – Give Peace a Chance
Cynics may scoff at the simplistic message here but personally I think we could do with this song more than ever right now, writing as Russia and America potentially go to war. It’s a historic song, as it’s the first solo single by a Beatle, even though they were still together at this point. Written and recorded during his Bed-In in Montreal, Quebec, Canada with new wife Yoko Ono, it was credited as a Lennon-McCartney track because the former felt he owed the latter for helping him on the final Beatles chart-topper. Featuring comedian Tommy Smothers on guitar and backing vocals from celebrity friends including Petula Clark and Timothy Leary, you could argue it’s the first rap song, really, as Lennon shouts at a list of names including some of the backing singers, the chorus is endearing and so’s that primitive percussion.
The Worst
Lou Christie –I’m Gonna Make You Mine
I’ve got precious little to say about this track by the American soft-rock singer-songwriter. Nondescript will do, I guess.
The Best 60s Number 2 Ever is…
The Beatles – Penny Lane/Strawberry Field Forever
Not only is this the best 60s single to only just miss out on the top spot, it’s most likely the best of all time, and that’s down to Lennon’s track, which pays tribute to the garden of a children’s home he played in when he was a boy. Beginning as a simple folky number, the techniques The Beatles and Martin used to turn this into the final result were awesome, and much like Tomorrow Never Knows, served notice to the Fab Four’s fans that the days of Beatlemania, and now, anything goes in pop. So many highlights – the changeover from the original gentle, lighter take 7 into the intense take 26. The mellotron. The swarmandal. Ringo Starr’s drums. The unnerving, pitch-shifted vocal. The noise of the fade-back-in. ‘Cranberry sauce’. Amazingly, before his death Lennon complained that this track was sabotaged and badly recorded. I could go on forever, and I wish this track did.
The Worst 60s Number 2 Ever is…
The Seekers –Morningtown Ride
The majority of ‘worst’ number 2s from each year are just too dull and nondescript to pass comment on. I’ve forgotten most of them already to be honest. But this really stood out as being offensively bad to me. It’s so bloody twee, it’s painful.
The Outro
Coming into this with the knowledge that classics such as Penny Lane/Strawberry Fields Forever, My Generation and All Day and All of the Night narrowly missed out at becoming number 1, I knew this was going to be a really enjoyable batch of songs. However, there were also way more I’d never heard of, too, particularly in 1968 and 69. Which makes me wonder if I’m only scratching the surface of 60s pop. But then I also wonder, is that for the best? Could it be that, yes, the 60s was an amazing time for music, but is it also an overrated decade at the same time? Because with the exception of 1965-67, there was a lot of average stuff to wade through. The classics remain so, though, and it was certainly more enjoyable than Every 50s Number 2.
Sir Roderick David Stewart, aka ‘Rod the Mod’, was one of the biggest-selling artists of the 70s and 80s, with over 120 million records sold worldwide, and six number 1 singles. And yet his first chart-topper, Maggie May, was tucked away as a B-side. Were it not for its appeal shining through, Stewart may not have become as big a superstar as he did.
Before
Stewart was born at home in Highgate, London on 10 January 1945. He was the youngest of five children, the other four having been born in Leith, Edinburgh, Scotland, where his father Robert, a builder, came from. After he retired, Robert bought a newsagent’s shop, which the Stewart family lived above. His youngest’s main hobby, which he still loves, was railway modelling.
Stewart’s other big obsession was football, and he became captain of his school’s team. His first musical hero was Al Jolson, but he soon got into rock’n’roll, and he saw Bill Haley & His Comets in concert. In 1960 he joined a skiffle group called The Kool Kats, and would play Lonnie Donegan covers.
Stewart left school at 15 and had various jobs working in the family shop, as a silk screen printer and at a cemetery, but he longed to be a professional footballer. In 1961 he decided to try his hand at singing, and along with The Raiders he auditioned for eccentric producer Joe Meek, but he wasn’t impressed.
Soon after, Stewart turned into a left-wing beatnik, listening to the folk music of Bob Dylan, Ewan MacColl and Woody Guthrie and attending protest marches, getting arrested three times between 1961 and 1963. He later confessed he often used the marches as a way of bedding girls. In 1962 he took to playing the harmonica and would busk at Leicester Square with folk singer Wizz Jones. They took their act to Europe, and Stewart found himself deported from Spain for vagrancy in 1963. Around this time, he was considered as a singer for The Kinks, then known as The Ray Davies Quartet.
Later that year he became a full-on Mod, adopting his trademark spiky hairstyle and becoming enthralled with soul and R’n’B music. He found his first professional job as a musician in The Dimensions. This was his introduction to London’s R’n’B scene, where he would take harmonica tips from Mick Jagger.
In January 1964 the 19-year-old had been to a Long John Baldry gig and was playing harmonica at Twickenham Station when Baldry himself heard him and invited him to join his group. Over time, Stewart overcame shyness and would dress up more, and would sometimes be billed as Rod ‘the Mod’ Stewart. He made his recording debut with Baldry and the Hoochie Coochie Men that June, uncredited. Two months later, after a performance at the Marquee Club, he was signed as a solo act to Decca Records. His debut single was the blues standard, with a terribly dodgy title, Good Morning Little Schoolgirl, which featured John Paul Jones among the session musicians.
Baldry’s group broke up, but he and Stewart patched up their differences and in 1965 became part of the line-up of new group Steampacket alongside Brian Auger. Steampacket were conceived as a white soul revue, and while supporting The Rolling Stones he had his first taste of crowd hysteria. Due to all being signed to different labels, Stewart’s group were unable to record any material. His solo career continued, but without making much impact. In 1966 he jumped ship from Steampacket to Shotgun Express, whose line-up included future Fleetwood Mac members Peter Green and Mick Fleetwood.
It was The Jeff Beck Group that finally gave Stewart his break when he joined their ranks in February 1967. He formed a long-lasting friendship with guitarist Ronnie Wood, began writing material, and his vocal technique developed into the rough rasp that made him stand out. However, he and Beck didn’t get on, and when Wood was announced as Steve Marriott’s replacement in Small Faces in June 1969, Stewart joined him a few months after as their new singer, and they became Faces.
At the same time, Stewart was making inroads with his solo career. Now with Mercury Records, he released his first album, An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down, a mix of well-received original material and rock, folk and blues covers.
1970 saw the release of both Faces’ debut LP First Step and his solo follow-up Gasoline Alley, which introduced the mandolin to his sound. Faces quickly amassed a dedicated following at their gigs, and Stewart was one single release away from becoming a household name. The plan was for (Find a) Reason to Believe to be the first single from his forthcoming album, Every Picture Tells a Story, with Maggie May as the B-side.
Reviews
Reason to Believe (the bracketed bit dropped upon its single release) was the final track on the accompanying album. It’s a cover of a Tim Hardin track, which the folk singer had released on his debut album in 1965, and The Carpenters covered it in 1970.
Stewart plays the wounded lover, whose girl has lied to him. His gravelly voice suits the song well, and there’s some nice Hammond organ and piano work courtesy of Faces’ Ian McLagan. It’s a good album track, but it was never going to light up the charts the way its flip side did. So much so, the single became a double A-side as word spread.
Stewart has rather pissed away his potential over the years, and growing up in the 80s, I saw him as a ridiculous figure. However, Maggie May is a classic, and it’s the best number 1 he’s had. There’s no chorus, but it’s a compelling story, with a memorable mandolin intro courtesy of Lindisfarne’s Ray Jackson.
Rod the Mod had been inspired to write the song while working out some chords with guitarist Martin Quittenton of Steamhammer. He recalled his experience of losing his virginity in 1961 to an older woman at the Beaulieu Jazz Festival. The song isn’t named after her though. Stewart took it from the old Liverpool folk song about a prostitute (as briefly heard on The Beatles album Let It Be). Amazingly, you can see him taking part in the event here. The festival, not the self-confessed very brief sex… Also on the recording, which was only added to the album at the last minute, are Wood on bass and 12-string, McLagan and drummer Micky Waller, who played a drumkit with no cymbals, which were added later.
The original version of Stewart’s song opened side two of Every Picture Tells a Story with a 30-second guitar intro from Quittenton, named Delilah. In full, it’s over five minutes long, but the single edit cuts off some of the detail.
However, Stewart’s tale of love for an older woman remains fascinating. He gets you interested right from the start with those famous opening lines, revealing he was in fact a schoolboy when he was sleeping with Maggie. More mature than your average love song, Stewart finds time to insult Maggie only to remind her how deep he feels about her before she has chance to slap him:
‘The morning sun, when it’s in your face really shows your age But that don’t worry me none in my eyes, you’re everything’
Stewart resolves to get over May by, among other things, joining a ‘rock’n’roll band’ (mission accomplished), and although he claims he wishes he’d never seen her face, you don’t believe him, and as that beautiful mandolin rings out over the fade, you’re left wondering what happened to the singer that wrote such a great song.
After
A song that’s taken on new meaning to me of late, as my in-laws fell in love when this was in the charts (Maggie was my father-in-law’s name for his future wife) and it was played at his funeral, 48 years later. It’s difficult to listen to anymore without welling up.
The Outro
Maggie May established Stewart both here and in the US, reaching number 1 in both while he also held the number 1 album spots – a rare feat. Above you can see the famous Top of the Pops appearance of the song, in which he’s backed by his Faces bandmates and Radio 1 DJ John Peel miming the mandolin.
The Info
Written by:
Reason to Believe: Tim Hardin/Maggie May: Rod Stewart & Martin Quittenton
Producer
Rod Stewart
Weeks at number 1
5 (9 October-12 November)
Births
9 October:Fashion photographer Simon Atlee 13 October:Comedian Sasha Baron Cohen 16 October:Big Brother winner Craig Phillips 30 October:Actor John Alford 3 November:Archer Alison Williamson 8 November:Footballer Michael Jeffrey
Deaths
11 November:Independent MP AP Herbert
Meanwhile…
13 October: The British Army began destroying roads between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland as a security measure.
21 October: 20 people were killed in a gas explosion in the town centre of Clarkston, East Renfrewshire in Scotland.
23 October: When a car failed to stop at a Belfast checkpoint, Mary Ellen Meehan, 30, and her sister Dorothy Maguire, 19 were shot dead by soldiers.
28 October: Prime Minister Edward Heath scored a big victory when the House of Commons voted in favour of joining the EEC by a vote of 356-244. Also on this day, the Immigration Act 1971 restricted immigration, particularly primary immigration into the U.K. and introduced the status of right of abode into law. Plus, the UK became the sixth nation to launch a satellite into orbit using its own launch vehicle, the Prospero (X-3) experimental communications satellite.
30 October: The Democratic Unionist Party was founded by the formidable Reverend Ian Paisley in Northern Ireland.
31 October: A bomb, likely planted by the Angry Brigade, exploded at the top of London’s Post Office Tower.
10 November: The 10-route Spaghetti Junction motorway interchange was opened north of Birmingham’s city centre. The interchange would have a total of 12 routes when the final stretch of the M6 was opened in 1972.
In March 1971, singer-songwriter Marc Bolan appeared on Top of the Pops to promote T. Rex’s second single Hot Love, as shown below. His stylist, Chelita Secunda, had suggested he wear glitter under his eyes, and it was this appearance that spearheaded the glam rock movement and gave Bolan the stardom he had strived for. Forget ‘Mungo-mania’ – ‘T. Rextasy’ was the first true pop phenomenon in the UK since ‘Beatlemania’. Pop was rejuvenated.
Before
Bolan was born Mark Feld on 30 September 1947. He was raised in Stoke Newington, East London until the Felds moved to Wimbledon in southwest London when he was a young boy. Around this time he, like so many of his contemporaries, fell in love with rock’n’roll, particularly stars like Chuck Berry and Eddie Cochran. He was only nine when he was given his first guitar and he formed a skiffle band, and soon after he was playing guitar for Susie and the Hula Hoops, whose singer was 12-year-old Helen Shapiro, who would have two number 1s in 1961 with You Don’t Know and Walkin’ Back to Happiness.
Feld was expelled from school at 15 and around this time became known as ‘The Face’ due to his good looks. He joined a modelling agency and appeared in catalogues for Littlewoods and John Temple wearing Mod getup just as The Beatles were first making waves.
In 1964 Feld made his first known recording, All at Once, in which he aped Cliff Richard. Next, he changed his name to Toby Tyler when he became interested in the music of Bob Dylan, and he began to dress like him too. His first acetate was a cover of Blowin’ in the Wind.
The following year, he signed with Decca Records and changed his name to Marc Bowland, before his label suggested Marc Bolan. First single, The Wizard, featured Jimmy Page and backing vocalists The Ladybirds, who later collaborated with Benny Hill. None of his solo singles, in which he adopted a US folk sound, made any impact.
Simon Napier-Bell, manager of The Yardbirds and John’s Children, a struggling psychedelic rock act, first met Bolan in 1966 when he showed up at his house with a guitar, proclaiming that he was going to be a big star and wanted Napier-Bell to work with him. Bolan was nearly placed in The Yardbirds but was placed in John’s Children as guitarist and songwriter in March 1967 instead. The group were outrageous, and Bolan proved to be a good fit, writing the single Desdemona, which was banned by the BBC for the lyric ‘lift up your skirt and fly’. Only a month later, they toured as support for The Who but were soon given their marching orders for upstaging the headliners (Bolan would whip his guitar with a chain). John’s Children also performed at The 14-Hour Technicolour Dream at Alexander Palace that month. Yet by June Bolan had left the group after falling out with his manager over their unreleased single A Midsummer Night’s Scene.
Bolan formed his own group, Tyrannosaurus Rex, and after one rushed, disastrous gig, he pared the band down to just himself and their drummer, Steve Peregrin Took, who would play percussion and occasional bass alongside Bolan and his acoustic guitar. For the next few years, Tyrannosaurus Rex amassed a cult following, with Radio 1 DJ John Peel among their biggest fans. Bolan’s fey, whimsical warbling could get a bit much at times, and I speak as a lover of 60s psychedelia, but the signs of a very talented singer-songwriter are there right from their debut single Debora and first album, the brilliantly titled My People Were Fair and Had Sky in Their Hair… But Now They’re Content to Wear Stars on Their Brows (1968), produced by Tony Visconti. Peel even read short stories by Bolan on their albums.
This was the last album to feature Took, who had been growing apart from Bolan, who was working on a book of poetry called The Warlock of Love. Bolan’s ego didn’t take kindly to the thought of Took contributing to songwriting, so he replaced him with Mickey Finn for fourth album Beard of Stars, released in March 1970. David Bowie’s follow-up to Space Oddity, The Prettiest Star also came out that month, with Bolan on guitar. The single tanked.
As the new decade dawned, Bolan was outgrowing Tyrannosaurus Rex, and was simplifying his songwriting while reintroducing an electric band setup to the mix. Visconti had been abbreviating the band’s name to T. Rex for a while on recording tapes, and while Bolan didn’t appreciate it at first, he decided to adopt the name to represent the next stage of development.
While preparing to release their first material in their new incarnation, Bolan replaced The Kinks as headlining act at the Pilton Festival at Worthy Farm, the day after Jimi Hendrix died on 19 September. 50 years on, it’s known as Glastonbury Festival, the king of the UK festival scene.
T. Rex released their first single, Ride a White Swan in October. This, simple, catchy layered guitar track caught on, and finally Bolan had a hit on his hands, narrowly missing out on the number 1 spot due to Clive Dunn’s Grandad in January 1971. T. Rex’s eponymous debut also went top 10 in the album charts. Bolan was now famous, but he needed to capitalise and go one better to avoid being a one-hit wonder.
Hot Love was recorded on 21 and 22 January at Trident Studios – the week Ride a White Swan peaked at number two. Seizing the moment, Bolan decided to flesh out T. Rex’s sound and adopt a classic four-piece line-up. With new bassist Steve Currie making his recording debut, Bolan and Visconti hired Bill Fifield as drummer, leaving Finn relegated to just handclaps. After helping out on T. Rex, this single saw the return of Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman on backing vocals. The duo had been founding members of The Turtles, and as Flo & Eddie had recently been part of Frank Zappa’s group The Mothers of Invention. Kaylan and Volman’s slightly unhinged harmonies became an integral part of the classic T. Rex sound.
Review
Although Ride a White Swan served notice that Bolan was moving on from his old self-limited sonic boundaries, the lyrics were still very much the Tolkien whimsy of your average Tyrannosaurus Rex track. Hot Love featured a more simplistic, direct lyrical approach. Bolan is merely telling you about his lover.
Taken as read, much of T. Rex’s lyrical output can seem childish, sometimes even ridiculous, yet most of the time Bolan pulls it off, and he does so here. I’ve always admired the chutzpah of the lines ‘Well she ain’t no witch and I love the way she twitch – a ha ha’ and the charming camp of ‘I don’t mean to be bold, a-but a-may I hold your hand?’ but I’d never noticed the ludicrous ‘I’m a labourer of love in my persian gloves – a ha ha’ before. My favourite lyric of recent memory, right there.
There’s no point spending too much time dissecting Bolan’s words though, it’s more about the feel they add to his songs, and Hot Love feels sexy, which isn’t a label you could ever give his Tyrannosaurus Rex material. It’s fascinating to me how a voice that’s so fey, singing such daft words, can at the same time be so sensual.
The tune displays a key ingredient of glam rock – 50s rock’n’roll. Bolan has updated a simple bluesy riff and, thanks to the input of Visconti’s glossy studio sheen and string arrangement, updated it for 70s audiences. Kaylan and Volman’s backing vocals keep a certain strangeness in place and stop things getting too smooth, but this is a high definition Bolan that hadn’t been heard before, and Hot Love is just one reason why Visconti is rightly one of the most famous producers of all time.
The second half of Hot Love shifts into a ‘La-la-la-la-la-la-la’ Bolan, Kaylan and Volman singalong, akin to Hey Jude, but faster and weirder. It’s a real earworm, and no doubt helped it to number 1, but I find it goes on a bit too long, and I prefer the first half personally. Having said that, it really does show up the previous number 1, Baby Jump, as lumpen and turgid by comparison. A much-needed breath of fresh air in the charts, to put it mildly.
After
Released on 12 February on Fly Records, Hot Love rocketed up the charts, in part thanks to those famous Top of the Pops appearances. Bolan displayed star material in spades, and was perhaps the first musician since Elvis Presley to prove that image could be a vital ingredient in pop. Looking every inch the rock star with his glitter and guitar, he made glam rock about appearance as well as the sound, and other acts like Slade and friend/rival Bowie were watching and taking notes.
The Outro
The 70s were often a drab, moribund decade. Glam rock may have been a peculiarly British phenomenon that didn’t catch on elsewhere in the way Beatlemania did, but in the UK it was sorely needed, and brought about some of the best number 1s of the next four years. Bolan was integral in this.
T. Rex would prove to have a formula that Bolan couldn’t advance much from, and his star burnt out quick, but in the early 70s he gave pop the kick up the arse it needed. There are better T. Rex songs. However, Hot Love is one of the most important number 1s of the decade.
The Info
Written by
Marc Bolan
Producer
Tony Visconti
Weeks at number 1
6 (20 March-30 April)
Trivia
Births
23 March:Scottish actress Kate Dickie/TV presenter Gail Porter 27 March:Scottish racing driver David Coulthard 31 March:Cricketer Paul Grayson/Scottish actor Ewan McGregor 2 April:Cricketer Jason Lewry 3 April:Conservative MP Douglas Carswell 11 April:Liberal Democrat MP John Leech 16 April:Actress Belinda Stewart-Wilson 18 April:Scottish actor David Tennant
Deaths
20 April:Actor Cecil Parker
Meanwhile…
1 April: All restrictions on gold ownership were lifted in the UK. Since 1966 Britons had been banned from holding more than four gold coins or from buying any new ones, unless they held a licence.
11 April: 10 British Army soldiers were injured in rioting in Derry, Northern Ireland.
15 April: The planned Barbican Centre in London was given the go-ahead.
18 April: A serious fire at Kentish Town West railway station meant that the station remained closed until 5 October 1981.
19 April: Unemployment reached a post-World War Two high of nearly 815,000.
27 April: Eight members of the Welsh Language Society went on trial for destroying English language road signs in Wales. Also on this day, British Leyland launched the Morris Marina, which succeeded the Minor.
