Traditional Pop - Every UK Number 1

The Intro

Yes, your eyes don’t deceive you, that’s two characters from a BBC sitcom, up there, at number 1. For three whole weeks in the long, hot summer of 1975, Windsor Davies and Don Estelle, stars of, ironically, the Jimmy Perry and David Croft comedy It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, ruled the hit parade with a trad-pop ballad from 1940.

Before

Thanks to their Second World War sitcom Dad’s Army, Perry and Croft were one of the most successful comedy writing duos of the 70s. Their second series set in the period, It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum had begun in 1974. Set in the fictional village of Tin Min in Burma during the last months of the conflict, and chronicling the exploits of a Royal Artillery concert party, Perry and Croft were recalling their own experiences in the war. It was another huge success, running until 1981, but you’ll probably never see it repeated ever again. There’s a fair bit of homophobia directed at camp character Gunner ‘Gloria’ Beaumont (Melvyn Hayes) and one actor, Michael Bates, blacked-up to portray Indian Bearer Rangi Ram.

The most enduring character was Windsor Davies’ Battery Sergeant Major Tudor Bryn ‘Shut Up’ Williams, an imposing, ferocious officer, who hated how his troop were stage performers. So much so, he would often call them a ‘bunch of poofs’. Among his victims was Don Estelle’s diminutive Gunner ‘Lofty’ Harold Horace Herbert Willy Sugden, but even Sergeant Major Williams could not help but enjoy Lofty’s lovely tenor voice.

Davies was born in Canning Town, London on 28 August 1930, but the family returned to their roots in the Welsh village of Nant-y-Moel in 1940. After he left school he worked as a coal miner before undergoing National Service in Libya and Egypt between 1950 and 1952. He then moved into teaching but also got the acting bug, performing amateur dramatics before turning professional in 1961. He had his first film role in 1962 in The Pot Carriers, and television roles followed, often as figures of authority, and was a paid heavy in the Doctor Who story “The Evil of the Daleks” in 1967, and was a sailor in The Onedin Line in 1971.

When Davies got the job on It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, he based Sergeant Major Williams on his superiors during National Service. With his catchphrases of ‘Shut up!’, ‘Hello lovely boy’ and ‘Oh dear, how sad, never mind’, Davies somehow made a complete bastard rather lovable. When a cast spin-off album was made, putting Davies and Estelle together was a natural decision as they spent four years touring the clubs as a duo before they became famous.

Estelle was born Ronald Edwards on 22 May 1933 in Crumpsall, Manchester. At the age of eight he was evacuated to Darwen, Lancashire to escape the German bombing of the city. In Darwen he found his voice and became a boy soprano at his new local church, and continued to sing at his old one when he returned home. He joined local charity group the Manchester Minstrels and took part in a BBC Radio talent show in 1954. It was while working as a warehouse manager by day and performing in clubs by night that he first met Davies.

On days off he worked as an extra for Granada Television and made his TV debut throwing darts on Coronation Street. Arthur Lowe, then a regular on the soap, suggested to Estelle that he should contact Perry and Croft, and as a result he landed a bit part in Dad’s Army in 1969, returning a year later for several episodes. Measuring only 4ft 9, Estelle was the perfect man to cast for the ironically nicknamed Lofty, and next to the towering Davies, they made for a great mismatched pair.

Whispering Grass was a near-faithful cover of The Ink Spots version from 1940, but it was originally recorded by Erskine Hawkins & His Orchestra. Fred Fisher, a Tin Pan Alley songwriter, wrote it with his daughter Doris.

Review

This is understandably considered a novelty number 1, and is certainly a weird idea, especially for anyone not around at the time. However, once I got past Davies’ in-character recital of some of the lyrics, I was pleasantly surprised. Estelle really does have a lovely voice, and other than Davies popping up again in the middle briefly (and is he helping with the backing vocals?), it’s played completely straight and is very similar to The Ink Spots version. It’s a sweet, endearing tune, and it took me back to the early days of this blog when most of the songs I covered were of this ilk. Lovely, boys.

After

Such was the popularity of their Whispering Grass, the duo followed it up with a cover of The Mills Brothers’ Paper Doll, which just missed out on a chart placing. They also recorded a full album together, Sing Lofty, in 1976.

While It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum was at the peak of its popularity, drawing in audiences of 17 million, Davies also starred in Carry On Behind (1975) and Carry On England (1976), where he played… yes, another comically angry Sergeant Major. He also had a role in the 1978 Welsh rugby film Grand Slam.

Such was the unmistakably rich quality of Davies’ voice, he had no shortage of voiceover work when It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum ended in 1981. I will have likely first heard his dulcet tones on the children’s sci-fi series Terrahawks (1983), where he played… a sergeant major. He also provided voices in Paul McCartney’s Rupert and the Frog Song (1984) and an advert for Cadbury’s Wispa. From 1981 to 1991 he starred alongside Donald Sinden in the ITV sitcom Never the Twain, and in 1997 appeared in an episode of another Perry and Croft sitcom, Oh Doctor Beeching!. Davies retired in 2014 and moved to the south of France with his wife. He died on 17 January 2019, aged 88.

Estelle fared less well. After It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum was axed, he starred in a BBC adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and had small roles in the films A Private Function (1984) and Santa Claus: The Movie (1985). He formed Don Estelle Music Publishing and released cassettes of his recordings on his Lofty label for years to come, but disappeared into obscurity.

He cut a rather tragic figure towards the end of his life, performing in his Lofty outfit in shopping centres beside his tapes, and was understandably bitter, but perhaps unreasonable, that his most famous role would never be shown on TV again in repeats. There was a return to the small screen for him though, thanks to his appearance as Little Don in early episodes of The League of Gentlemen in 1999. In 2001 he played a dirty old man in Page 3 girl Jo Hicks’s cover of The Benny Hill Show theme Yakety Sax.

The Outro

Estelle spent the last few years of his life living in New Zealand, but he returned to the UK weeks before his death. He needed a liver transplant but was too ill to undergo it, and he died in Rochdale Infirmary on 2 August 2003. He was buried with the oversized pith helmet he wore as Lofty.

The Info

Written by

Fred & Doris Fisher

Producer

Walter J Ridley

Weeks at number 1

3 (7-27 June)

Trivia

Births

19 June: Rower Ed Coode

Deaths

27 June: Conservative MP Arthur Salter, 1st Baron Salter

Meanwhile…

8 June: Peter Samuel Cook, aka The Cambridge Rapist, was arrested after stabbing a young woman at a nurses’ hostel.

9 June: Parliament proceedings are broadcast on radio for the first time.

13 June: UEFA places a three-year ban on Leeds United from European competitions following the behaviour of their fans at last month’s European Cup final.

14 June: West Midlands Ambulance crews stage a ban on non-emergency calls in a dispute over pay and hours.

17 June: Leeds United lodge an appeal against their ban from European competitions.

19 June – A coroner’s court jury returns a verdict of wilful murder and names Lord Lucan as the murderer in the inquest on Sandra Rivett, the nanny who was found dead at his wife’s home in London seven months previously.

The Intro

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

1952/53

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

The Best

Nat ‘King’ Cole – Pretend

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

The Worst

Diana Decker – Poppa Piccolino

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

1954

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

David Whitfield with Stanley Black and His Orchestra – Santo Natale

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

1955

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

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

1956

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

The Best

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst

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

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

1957

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

Russ Hamilton – We Will Make Love

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

1958

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

The Best

Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – Hard-Headed Woman

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

The Worst

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

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

1959

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

The Best 50s Number 2 Ever is…

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst 50s Number 2 Ever is…

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

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

The Outro

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