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.
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.
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.
30 years on, I can still remember the first time I saw Jimi Hendrix. I can pinpoint the date because it was a clip on Good Morning Britain in which the presenters were talking about the 20th anniversary of his death, so I was 11. I’d never seen anything like this otherworldly flamboyant peacock, tearing away at his guitar with supernatural abandon, on stage in darkness. It was mesmerising, exciting, and even scary.
Jimi Hendrix was the greatest guitarist of his generation, perhaps ever, but he never had a number 1 in his lifetime. Voodoo Chile, from the final album by The Jimi Hendrix Experience Electric Ladyland in 1968, was released posthumously. Not a pop single, but what a riproaring way to call time on Hendrix and the 60s.
Before
He may have seemed like he’d arrived on Earth from outer space, but Johnny Allen Hendrix was born 27 November 1942 in Seattle, Washington, the eldest of five children. Four years later his parents changed his name to James Marshall Hendrix in honour of his father Al and his late brother Leon Marshall. Al was in the army, and absent for much of his eldest’s childhood. His mither Lucille struggled and James would often be sent to female family members and friends of Lucille.
When Al returned from service, he and Lucille would argue violently, and the shy James would hide in a closet. Many years later, he revealed to a girlfriend that he was once abused by a man in uniform. At the age of nine, his parents divorced and Al was granted custody.
In 1957, father and son were clearing an old woman’s home when the young Hendrix found a ukelele with one string left, which she said he could keep. He learnt to play by ear, and would particularly enjoy doing so to Elvis Presley’s Hound Dog.
By mid-1958, a few months after his mother’s early death, he bought his first acoustic guitar. He would play for hours, learning the blues licks of Robert Johnson, BB King and Muddy Waters, but the first tune he learned to play in full was the theme to Peter Gunn.
Soon after his purchase he formed his first group, called The Velvetones. but struggled to be heard above the din, and in 1959, Al bought him one. Hendrix joined The Rocking Kings, and began playing professionally.
Aged 18, Hendrix was caught riding in stolen cars more than once, and police offered him a choice between prison or the army, and he chose the latter and enlisted in 1961. Hendrix struggled and missed his beloved guitar, but when Al sent him it his peers would tease him and hide it from him. Fellow serviceman Billy Cox was impressed with his playing though and they soon joined other servicemen in a band called The Casuals.
After they had both been discharged in 1963 the duo formed new band The King Kasuals. Their second guitarist Alphonso ‘Baby Boo’ Young could play with his teeth, and before long Hendrix could too. As well as The King Kasuals, Hendrix began performing as a backing musician for soul stars including Sam Cooke, Ike & Tina Turner and Jackie Wilson.
In 1964 Hendrix joined The Isley Brothers’ backing band The IB Specials and made his first recording on their two part single Testify. But he got bored of being restricted to the same set every night and left in October to join Little Richard’s touring group The Upsetters. He would make his TV debut appearing alongside the rock’n’roll legend in 1965
There would be further performances with artists including saxophonist King Curtis, but Hendrix couldn’t stand the restrictions of not getting the spotlight to himself, so in 1966 he moved to New York’s happening Greenwich Village and would begin a residency fronting his new band Jimmy James and the Blue Flames, and it is here that he really developed his incredible style.
That May, while performing with Curtis Knight and the Squires he found an important fan in Linda Keith, the girlfriend of Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones. Their producer Andrew Loog Oldham was somehow blind to the potential of this virtuoso axeman, so Keith told Chas Chandler about him. Chandler was about to leave The Animals and was looking to move into managing and producing talent. He saw Hendrix performing Hey Joe in Greenwich Village, and was blown away. Hendrix signed with him and moved to London in September.
Hendrix and Chandler were on the lookout for members of a new band to showcase the former’s talent. They asked guitarist Noel Redding to play bass for him after seeing him at an audition for The New Animals, and drummer Mitch Mitchell had recently been fired from Georgie Fame and The Blue Flames. Chandler suggested Jimmy change the spelling of his name, and The Jimi Hendrix Experience had arrived.
The trio performed for the first time in France, supporting Johnny Holliday, that October. A month later they signed to Track Records, a new label set up by Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp, managers of The Who. A performance at the ultra-hip Bag O’Nails in front of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Brian Jones and Pete Townshend set tongues wagging. Debut single Hey Joe shot to number six in December.
If ever there was a case of right time, right place, it was The Jimi Hendrix Experience, in Swinging London, in 1966 and 67. And 1967 was truly their year. Purple Haze and The Wind Cries Mary were top 10 hits in March and May respectively. These first three singles displayed the versatility of these firebrands. They could do soulful covers, write their own psychedelic rock and tender ballads. Debut album Are You Experienced, also released in May, went even further, with the blues of Red House and experimental rock like the title track. It’s rightly considered one of the greatest debut albums of all time, and climbed the charts in the Summer of Love alongside landmark LPs by The Beatles and Pink Floyd.
That summer saw Hendrix blow McCartney’s mind with a live performance of the title track to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and one of the most memorable rock performances of all time at the Monterey Pop Festival. As if Hendrix’s guitar-playing wasn’t impressive enough, he ended their show by setting his instrument on fire. After Monterey they briefly toured as support for The Monkees, quitting after a fortnight due to the audience’s general bafflement.
The trio ended an incredible year with the release of second album Axis: Bold as Love. While the least impressive of their three LPs, it was still sterling work. On 20 December they set to work on the opus that would be the group’s swansong – the double album Electric Ladyland.
Tensions rose during recording, with Hendrix taking more of an interest in the production, which annoyed Chandler, as did his increasing perfectionism. Not only that, the sessions were getting more and more chaotic thanks to fellow musicians dropping by, and also Redding was busy with his new group Fat Mattress, so Hendrix would record his own bass parts. Nonetheless, Electric Ladyland was a masterpiece thanks to songs like Crosstown Traffic and the definitive Bob Dylan cover, All Along the Watchtower. And then there was the album closer.
Voodoo Chile (Slight Return) was a rocked-up, alternative to Voodoo Chile, a 14-minute-plus blues jam featuring Steve Winwood, among others, earlier on the album. The day after that version had been recorded, The Jimi Hendrix Experience returned to the studio to film a documentary, and a session of jamming resulted in Hendrix’s sole number 1 single.
Review
What a track, what a way to pay tribute to one of the greatest musicians ever, and what a full stop on the 60s. Voodoo Chile, as it became confusingly titled upon its posthumous single release (the Slight Return being dropped by Track Records) is no pop single. It’s The Jimi Hendrix Experience at full throttle and saying goodbye. Opening with one of the greatest guitar riffs of all time, the track then explodes.
Hendrix pays tribute to the masters of blues from his youth with some lyrical imagery portraying Hendrix as some kind of superhuman, able to chop down mountains with the edge of his hand. Not that far removed from songs like Bo Diddley’s I’m a Man.
The music is in another dimension to such material, though, a heavy psychedelic onslaught of guitar noodling that, thanks in part to the stereo panning, swirls around your head and never gets boring, unlike perhaps some of Hendrix’s later work. The lyrics don’t last long, but may well be the reason this was picked as a tribute to Hendrix. The second and last verse ends with the guitarist apologising for taking up all the listener’s sweet time (like he has anything to apologise for) and then a promise:
‘If I don’t meet you no more in this world I’ll meet you in the next one And don’t be late Don’t be late!’
Voodoo Chile has probably always been my favourite song by The Jimi Hendrix Experience, and I love the fact that for one week, this was number 1. Storming, magnificent and unforgettable.
After
Electric Ladyland was released in October 1968. 1969 began with the trio caused controversy with their appearance on the BBC’s Happening for Lulu when they abruptly stopped performing Hey Joe to perform Sunshine of Your Love by way of tribute to the recently disbanded Cream. They prevented Lulu performing her closing number, and Hendrix was told they would never work for the BBC again. Around this time, Chandler quit.
The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s two February gigs at the Royal Albert Hall were their final UK shows, and in June after a performance at the Denver Pop Festival, matters between Hendrix and Redding came to a head, and Redding left.
Hendrix expanded the line-up, adding his old friend Cox on bass, and they headlined the Woodstock Festival as Gypsy Sun and Rainbows, famously blowing the minds of the remaining hippies on the Monday morning with an incendiary version of The Star-Spangled Banner.
To put an end to several years of legal disputes, Hendrix recorded a live album, Band of Gypsys, with Cox and new drummer Buddy Miles. The Band of Gypsys were not to last long as an entity though, and Hendrix’s manager Michael Jeffrey announced in February 1970 that The Jimi Hendrix Experience were to return in their original line-up. This was news to the frontman though, who was reluctant for Redding to return, so he began touring with Mitchell and Cox instead on The Cry of Love Tour.
On 31 August 1970 Hendrix headlined the Isle of Wight Festival, but was beset with technical problems. On 2 September he angered fans in Denmark after three songs announcing ‘I’ve been dead a long time’. After a badly-received set in Germany, Cox was suffering from severe paranoia after a bad LSD trip, and he returned to the US.
Hendrix and Mitchell returned to the UK, and the former spoke to Chandler about being unhappy with Jeffrey’s management. He did an impromptu performance on 16 September with War at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club, which was uncharacteristically low-key.
Two days later, his girlfriend Monika Dannemann found him unconscious in bed, and he was pronounced dead soon after. Hendrix had choked on his own vomit on a cocktail of barbiturates and sleeping tablets. He was only 27.
The Outro
Perhaps Jimi Hendrix was never meant to live a long life. His flame only burned for a few years, but it burned brighter and more colourfully than most can only dream about. Following Redding’s departure, Hendrix had struggled to live up to those first three albums, which suggests The Jimi Hendrix Experience had a very special alchemy. Mitchell was a fantastic drummer in particular, and if Hendrix hadn’t been in the spotlight so much, he may have been better remembered. Redding, sardonic and grounded, was perhaps good at stopping Hendrix from getting too carried away in the studio.
Redding was found dead at home in Ireland on 11 March 2003 after a shock haemorrhage, aged 57, and Mitchell died five years later on 12 November in a hotel in Portland, Oregon of natural causes, aged 62.
