UK Charts

Every 70s Number 2

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

I’m just about done with the 70s for the time being, but before I get on with Every UK Number 1: The 60s, here’s one more look at the decade. As usual when I finish choosing my highs and lows of a decade, I take a look at the number 2s (oo-er). Why? Well, it’s a chance to take an alternative look at the most popular songs of the decade and see how they compare with the songs that pipped them to the post. It’s long been believed that some of the greatest songs of all time missed out on the top spot. This certainly proved true in the 60s.

Will it prove to be the case for the 70s? Let’s find out. As per usual, I’ll look at each year, pick a best and worst for each year, then an overall winner and loser. Any future past number 1s aren’t included – these songs must have reached no higher than 2.

1970

Just as with the number 1 selection of this year, rock is the main genre dominating the runner-up chart position. And there’s some real beauties. Elvis Presley’s greatest song, Suspicious Minds, gets things off to an excellent start. Like the best number 2s, it’s criminal this didn’t top the charts. Folk trio Peter, Paul and Mary are next with their version of John Denver’s Leaving on a Jet Plane. This was the version that was a hit, and rightly so as the harmonies are lovely. Let’s Work Together – later a hit for Roxy Music as Let’s Stick Together – is an excellent dose of raucous blues-rock courtesy of Canned Heat. The Beatles bow out of the charts with Let It Be, which is obviously a classic, but for a change, I’m not picking it as the winner. We won’t see them again until Every 90s Number 2, when Free As a Bird was pipped to the post. Question by The Moody Blues is a lovely piece of prog rock. It’s a bit like Fleetwood Mac’s Oh Well, in that it’s more like a two-parter, but both halves are great. Groovin’ with Mr Bloe was a B-side for a band called Wind that changed their name to Mr Bloe when this song became an accidental hit in the US. Although an unknown called Elton John recorded a version, it was ignored in favour of the harmonica-led soul original at last. It’s not bad. Then we’ve a couple of bangers. All Right Now by Free and Lola by The Kinks are still evergreen rock classics. Less famous is Neanderthal Man by session musicians Hotlegs, later known as 10cc. They were messing about with drum sounds in the studio when they stumbled upon their suitably primitive rock smasher. The rocksteady favourite You Can Get it if You Really Want was written and recorded by Jimmy Cliff before number 1 artist Desmond Dekker and the Aces released their version, which outdid Cliff’s. I find it a little overrated, to be honest. Then another total rock classic, and one of the greatest riffs of all time – Deep Purple’s Black Night. Patches is a forgotten soul track by Chairmen of the Board’s singer General Johnson, but blind singer Clarence Carter took it to number 2. It’s not aged well. Rounding a great year off is When I’m Dead and Gone by rock band McGuinness Flint. It’s pretty nice, and thanks to the mandolin is rather similar to Maggie May. Two of the band later departed to become Gallagher and Lyle.

The Best:

The Jackson 5 – I Want You Back

As you can see with such incredible competition, the winner of 1970 has to be pretty special. I nearly went with Suspicious Minds but few songs show the majestic uplifting beauty of pop at its best than this. It’s mad to think the Jacksons didn’t get a UK number 1 until 1977. I Want You Back, their debut, is still guaranteed to fill dance floors after all these years. Effervescent and sweet without being too sugary, it’s bloody brilliant. And whatever Michael Jackson later became, what a talent he was in 1970.

The Worst:

Mary Hopkin – Knock Knock, Who’s There

Young folk star Hopkin had recorded some great Paul McCartney material initially, including number 1 Those Were the Days, but this tune, which became the runner-up at the Eurovision Song Contest, is a big letdown. It’s perfect as a 70s Eurovision entry, and certainly better than the winner, but it’s the worst song in a very good year.

1971

Similar to 1970 but a lower rate of classics. But the first stirrings of glam are here, with the genre’s pioneers, T Rex, topping and tailing the year. The Pushbike Song by Australian band The Mixtures, is a very obvious copy of Mungo Jerry’s In the Summertime, but I can’t help but enjoy it anyway. It’s followed by Another Day, which was the debut solo single by a Mr Paul McCartney. John Lennon may have slated this by comparing it to Yesterday in How Do You Sleep?, but unfairly so in my opinion. It’s a lovely single. A controversial classic next, as The Rolling Stones got to number 2 for the last time with Brown Sugar/Bitch/Let It Rock. The first track was until recently considered one of the band’s best, but in the wake of Black Lives Matter and #metoo, the lyrical references to the slave trade and rape have understandably seen this removed from the Stones setlist. Bitch is a decent track from Sticky Fingers, with a good guitar and brass riff, and Let It Rock is a so-so run-through an old Chuck Berry song at the University of Leeds. There must have been something in the air in 1971, as the next three tracks are all about death. Indiana Wants Me was inspired by Canadian country singer R Dean Taylor’s viewing of Bonnie and Clyde and is written from the point of view who murdered a man who insulted his woman, which seems somewhat of an overreaction. It’s not bad, atmospheric and ending with gunfire. Not as good as his best-known track There’s a Ghost in My House, though. Then there’s I Did What I Did for Maria by Sheffield singer Tony Christie, sounding just like Tom Jones here. This is from the POV of a widower on Death Row who is about to die for avenging the death of his wife. Interesting premise, but so-so as a song. Worth mentioning it was written and produced by 50s hitmaker Mitch Murray and Peter Callander, who wrote Georgie Fame’s 1968 number 1, The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde. They also wrote Christie’s 2005 number 1 Is This the Way to Amarillo. Then, Don’t Let It Die by Hurricane Smith. Norman Smith had been an engineer for The Beatles from 1963-65. Promoted to a producer, he worked with bands including Pink Floyd. He wrote this track as a warning abut the future of the Earth with Lennon in mind, but producer Mickie Most said Smith should release it himself. It’s pretty good, and Smith’s vocal is pretty weird, sounding slightly unhinged, even. Future glam stars The Sweet scored their first real hit with Co-Co, a catchy but cheesy calypso-style track. The New Seekers’ cover of Delaney & Bonnie’s Never Ending Song of Love is throwaway pap. Nancy Sinatra and her producer Lee Hazlewood, four years after her last number 1 Somethin’ Stupid, narrowly missed out with the duet Did You Ever, which I think is filthier than it first appears. Scottish popsters Middle of the Road followed up their number 1 Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep with Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, which isn’t quite as irritating as their chart-topper, at least but it’s throwaway nonsense. US funk rockers redbone liven things up somewhat with the spooky The Witch Queen of New Orleans. Tom Jones’s cover of a 50s track, Till, is typically overblown, but not very memorable. Marc Bolan returns to end the year with the lightweight but enjoyable Jeepster. T Rex really were on fire in the early 70s.

The Best:

T Rex – Ride a White Swan

And here’s the song that finally made Bolan, after years as a cult figure in Tyrannosaurus Rex, into a bona fide star. With only Bolan and percussionist Mickey Finn on board, it’s a fascinating bridge from the low-key whimsy of his former band into the electric, catchy pop template of T Rex’s future four number 1s and so much more.

The Worst:

Ray Stevens – Bridget the Midget (The Queen of the Blues)

Oh Ray, you really don’t do great with me, do you? On the basis of this and one of the worst chart-toppers of the 70s, The Streak, Stevens really was the master of awfully unfunny novelty crap. This is marginally better than that track, purely on the basis of a catchy piano riff. The rest is total shit. Pitched-up vocals from Stevens are meant to give the impression he is Bridget, a small, high-pitched singer. Fuck’s sake.

1972

Glam makes its presence felt with some classics and some that are best forgotten. But first, 11-year-old Scottish Opportunity Knocks winner Neil Reid with his soppy old cover of Mother of Mine. Pretty much forgotten now, unlike Don McLean’s American Pie. It’s better than his 1972 number 1 Vincent, but overfamiliarity with it makes me weary. Way too long, also. Ringo Starr! This is much more like it. His early 70s collaborations with fellow-Beatle George Harrison are well worth checking out, and Back Off Boogaloo is probably the best. Is it a Paul McCartney diss? Maybe, but it’s definitely very glam-sounding, that’s undeniable. Greek singer Vicky Leandros won Eurovision with Après Toi, and the English translation, Come What May, shows she had a great voice, but there’s not a lot to say about it otherwise. David Cassidy is next with a double A-side, Could It Be Forever?/Cherish. His voice is less irritating than it is on the number 1s he followed this up with, and I didn’t mind the former, but the latter is very wet and overlong, albeit with a nice climax (that’s what she said). I used to think Rocket Man was merely Elton John ripping off Space Oddity, but it’s grown on me over the last year or so. Great vocal and nice synth sound too. Won’t be a shock to hear I’d rather forget about Gary Glitter but unfortunately he crops up a lot now. Annoyingly though, Rock and Roll, Parts 1 and 2 still sounds good. But that’s down to producer Mike Leander. And at least Part 2 is an instrumental so we don’t even have to think about Glitter… except his voice is all over it still, particularly all those horrible yelping noises at the end… Then it’s Dr Hook and the Medicine Show’s Sylvia’s Mother. Nice idea, writing a song about a man ringing his ex to get her back, only for her mum to answer, but unfortunately the vocal is so overwrought it ruins it. Long before Jona Lewis was wishing he was home for Christmas, he was doing the Seaside Shuffle with Terry Dactyl and the Dinosaurs. Nice, jaunty little novelty track that makes me want to go for a paddle. After that we’ve the evergreen Children of the Revolution, a standout T Rex track that I actually prefer to his last two number 1s, Telegram Sam and Metal Guru. It’s a little different to Bolan’s usual fare thanks to the epic arrangement. Hotlegs became 10c with the release of doo-wop pastiche Donna, but it’s too similar to Oh! Darling by the Beatles, and not particularly funny. And here come the legendary Slade with Gudbuy T’Jane, an excellent ode to a woman who demonstrated a sex machine on a US chat show they appeared on.

The Best:

The Osmonds – Crazy Horses

Still astounds me how a Mormon boyband in effect pulled a ‘Monkees’ and decided to rock out and play their own instruments. Rehearsing in a basement, Wayne came up with the monster chugging riff, Merrill invented the melody and gave the verse vocal to Jay and Alan got the chords. Donny’s voice was breaking so he didn’t sing, but his organ was a stallion (that’s what she said), which, put through a wah-wah pedal, gave the song its hook. And what a hook. This ode to ecology had a great message, too. Their record label were understandably concerned before its release, but it did very well, particularly in the UK, and it bloody well deserved to.

The Worst:

The New Seekers – Beg, Steal or Borrow

Another Eurovision entry, this time for the UK. It came second but like the other contest entries so far, it’s pretty dull. But they perform it well. I do have a little respect for The New Seekers – they seem to have had a bit more going for them than the usual light entertainment singers of the era.

1973

Peak glam, with only a few pop songs getting a look in. T Rex are back for the last time with Solid Gold Easy Action, which is only an average Bolan track, but that’s still better than most of the competition. Very much of its time is the rowdy left-wing folk singalong Part of the Union by The Strawbs. I’ve read differing opinions on this over the years. Is it pro-unions or a pisstake. Probably the former. Either way, it’s an earworm and a reminder of days when unions held more power. The Faces next, with the rather lacklustre Cindy Incidentally. It’s no Stay with Me or Ooh La La. Sadly Glitter was at the peak of his powers this year with two more famous stompers. Hello! Hello! I’m Back Again is the least revolting of the two, and of course is better known these days for being knicked by Oasis. The Sweet are much more welcome with their two – Hell Raiser and particularly The Ballroom Blitz are great raunchy rockers, which probably went down a storm live, and bassist Steve Priest’s camp interjections are always fun. I like The Carpenters in small doses, but Yesterday Once More is a bit too saccharine, however lovely the production is. Barry Blue was perhaps too lightweight to be remembered for his glam single Dancing (on a Saturday Night), but it’s pretty good, if a bit on the retro side, something which occurred more with glam a year later. The least glam-sounding glam song here is MY FRIEИD STAИ by Slade – their comeback single after drummer Don Powell’s car crash. I like the fact they styled this song with what looks to be Satanic writing. But the song is a bit of a curio, sounding more like a Chas and Dave tune. The Osmonds are back with Let Me In, which was familiar with me thanks to The Avalanches sampling it on Since I Left You in 2000. The rock of Crazy Horses is gone and replaced with the more familiar commercial pop sound, but it’s good at what it does. Judging them by their biggest hits, it seems The Osmonds were better as a group than their various offshoots. Don’t even get me started on Little Jimmy… The black glove of Alvin Stardust is one of the most recognisable glam sights of yore, but as I discovered when reviewing his number 1 Jealous Mind, it’s actually songwriter Pete Shelley singing that and this better, more famous track, My Coo-ca-Choo. Rounding things off is Marie Osmond with an old-fashioned cover of country track Paper Roses. Mad to think this was higher up the charts that December than Wizzard…

The Best:

David Bowie – The Jean Genie

It’s also mad to think David Bowie didn’t get to number 1 during his Ziggy Stardust phase and we have to settle with this instead. Bizarrely written and recorded at the same time as another Bo Diddley soundalike, number 1 Block Buster !, Bowie missed out on the top spot. And despite being a massive Bowie hardcore fan, I said in my review that I preferred The Sweet’s song (just). Yet that didn’t win by favourite number 1 of 1973. Confused? Me too. Anyway, allegedly inspired by Jean Genet and Iggy Pop, The Jean Genie always sounds great, even when you hear it for the millionth time.

The Worst:

Gary Glitter – Do You Wanna Touch Me? (Oh Yeah!) – Eugh. I hate to say it but despite despising this despicable chancer, a lot of Glitter songs still sound good. The guitar sound at the start of this is cool, but as usual I’m going to say it’s down to Leander. Lyrically, this is the most sickening Glitter tune to be forced to hear these days. Forever a black stain on the charts.

1974

Just as the standard of number 1s fell with the decline of glam, so did the runners-up. Even more so, in fact. The year begins with an overlong blast of circus music courtesy of Leo Sayer and his first hit, The Show Must Go On. It’s an odd little tune, with interesting lyrics but an overwrought vocal. Teenage Rampage is OK but probably the least impressive tune by The Sweet here. Then it’s the surprise comeback of The Hollies with a cover of Albert Hammond’s The Air That I Breathe. It’s perhaps best known these days for the verses being so similar to part of Radiohead’s Creep, but that takes away from the memorable chorus. Country singer Charlie Rich’s The Most Beautiful Girl is decent I suppose, if you like the genre, which I don’t much. Tiger Feet was definitely a late-glam era highlight and one of my favourite number 1s of 1974, but Mud’s The Cat Crept In just sounds like a tossed-off retread. The guitar is practically the same. The Bay City Rollers had two chart-toppers but Shang-a-Lang was the start of Roller-mania. It’s a very irritating song – I really don’t like the chorus. Finally, a song to shake things up a bit… It was This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us. Combining inventive glam, rather than its derivative aspect, with music hall and progressive pop, this is the song that alerted the world to Sparks. Produced by Muff Winwood of former chart-toppers The Spencer Davis Group, fact fans. Back to 50s-sounding glam with Showaddywaddy’s Hey Rock and Roll. The Leicester band were riding high from their New Faces win and penned this debut single. which features their name in the backing vocals. It’s terribly unoriginal, but the stomping in the chorus would have been quite fun for children I suppose. It wasn’t just rock that was low on ideas in 1974, as Kissin’ in the Back Row of the Movies by The Drifters sounds like 50s soul rather than genres like the Philly Sound, up soon. The band were unsure whether singing about picking their girl up from school when her homework was done was a good idea – imagine that happening now… Where do I know Stephanie De Sykes’ Born with a Smile on My Face from? Is it from a 90s comedy? Wherever I first heard it makes me nostalgic upon hearing it again, but can you be nostalgic for something you can’t even remember?! The Stylistics’ You Make Me Feel Brand New was more contemporary. Love the sitar at the start and tenor Airrion Love’s vocal is much more pleasant on the ears than the falsetto of Russell Thompkins Jr. Donny and Marie Osmond team up with the predictably boring easy listening tune I’m Leaving It Up to You. And the next one, Rock Me Gently by Andy Kim, isn’t much better. The electric piano gives it a nice sound, but it’s an average bubblegum pop song from one of the guys who sang with The Archies. Slade made the gritty film Flame in 1974, seemingly to prove there was more to them than the crazy outfits and excellent pop songs. Far Far Away is a decent attempt at a more mature sound, capturing the melancholy involved with life on the road. Other than the year’s best and worst, that only leaves Bachman Turner Overdrive’s You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet. As happy and catchy as this is, I can’t hear it without thinking of Smashie and Nicey, which makes it hard to do anything but laugh at it.

The Best:

Queen – Killer Queen

I can take or leave some of Queen’s output, which has often been ruined for me by overfamiliarity. But this, their breakthrough hit, has always been one of my favourites. This super-camp music hall ditty was about a high-class call girl, and was unusual in that Freddie Mercury came up with the lyrics before the tune. It’s a song that always sounds fresh and a large part of that is, ironically, the very 70s production.

The Worst:

Gary Glitter – Oh Yes! You’re Beautiful

Oh fuck off already! I wonder if the song title came to Glitter as he stared out into the sea of children at his gigs. Thankfully, he won’t trouble us anymore after this.

1975

An interesting, varied mix this year, topped and tailed with Christmas songs. Wombling Merry Christmas is fun, even if the concept of Mike Batt and co dressing up as Wombles seems so odd in modern times. It’s a very Bay City Rollers-style sound. Ralph McTell’s Streets of London next, which is the musical equivalent of a worn, comfy pair of slippers, even if the lyrics are actually quite depressing. I prefer Gloria Gaynor’s Never Can Say Goodbye to I Will Survive. Originally recorded by The Jackson 5, Gaynor’s version is considered one of the first disco tunes. A quick blast of the Glitter sound that’s OK to still enjoy. However, The Glitter Band never actually played on the paedophile’s records, only backing him live sometimes. Goodbye My Love isn’t up to scratch though, other than the nice guitar lick. The Carpenters are back but again, there’s better songs by Richard and Karen out there. Please Mr Postman is considered a classic, but it’s not a patch on The Beatles version. The Sweet broke away from Chinnichap in 1975 and produced a re-recording of Fox on the Run themselves. Singer Brian Connolly sounds more like Noddy Holder here and there’s a nice Roxy Music vibe to the keyboards. Not bad at all. Aww, it’s Minnie Riperton’s classic Lovin’ You next, which is excellent. Co-produced by Stevie Wonder, the melody was created by Riperton as a distraction for her daughter Maya, which is what she’s singing at the end. DJs faded it out though in case it was misinterpreted as a religious chant. The birdsong was a happy accident they decided to leave in. Showaddywaddy are back with their inferior version of Eddie Cochran’s Three Steps to Heaven. The spoken-word section is laughably sinister. Now, here’s a surprise… Ray Stevens, performing a country song straight… and it’s actually not bad! I like the banjo, Stevens has a great falsetto and it builds to a rousing finale. Roger Whittaker, much like his mate Des O’Connor, is seemingly unconcerned with getting emotion into a song. The Last Farewell is a predictably wet song about sailing from 1971, which was held off the top spot by Rod Stewart’s… Sailing. Leo Sayer is back with Moonlighting, sadly not the excellent theme to the 80s US TV series, but not bad. A close second place this year is Roxy Music’s Love is the Drug. I hadn’t even realised just how devoid of sex these songs had been up to now (I’m not counting Glitter in this). Excellent slinky groove to this one. We all know Hot Chocolate’s You Sexy Thing of course, and I’m still surprised it never made it to number 1. Sadly overfamiliarity and an air of cheese kind of spoils it these days, but it certainly is catchy as hell. Strangest song here is Laurel & Hardy’s The Trail of the Lonesome Pine. Apparently the silent comedy duo’s films were very popular on TV at the time and John Peel had championed this tune. Due to its age, it has an eerie, haunting melancholy to it that’s really interesting.

The Best:

Greg Lake – I Believe in Father Christmas

Combining sombre folk with Sergei Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kiljé Suite, this is one of my favourite Christmas songs. Emerson Lake and Palmer’s Greg Lake wrote the music and his former King Crimson bandmate Peter Sinfield wrote the lyrics as a protest at the commercialisation and loss of childhood belief in the festive season. Despite, or perhaps because of the downbeat, contemplative mood, it’s really beautiful and in sharp contrast to the usual party tone of other Christmas classics.

The Worst:

Guys ‘n’ Dolls – There’s a Whole Lot of Loving This sounds like it belongs on an advert for biscuits. And that’s exactly what it was. Recorded by session singers including Edison Lighthouse‘s Tony Burrows, this was used as a jingle for McVities. Such was its popularity, the group Guys ‘n’ Dolls were quickly formed to record a new version. However, they didn’t get their voices on this single as they weren’t assembled in time, so Burrows and co’s voices remain. There’s not a lot else to it other than the resemblance to Brotherhood of Man.

1976

Hmm, so this is interesting. The number 1s of 1976 were one of the worst years of the 70s, all in all. The standard of the runners-up is higher. In fact, there isn’t a truly awful track. Sailor are best known for Girls, Girls, Girls, but A Glass of Champagne did better at the time, and it’s not bad at all – albeit, a little bit too much of a Roxy Music pastiche. There were some weird phenomenons in the 70s, one of which was the CB radio craze which resulted in the novelty hit Convoy, credited to CW McCall (alias of Bill Fries). It’s, like all great novelty tracks, very catchy, and McCall’s voice was perfect for the part. Love Really Hurts Without You was Billy Ocean’s first of many hits. He’d do better, but it’s a well-remembered slice of soul, sounding very Motown. More soul follows courtesy of Barry White’s You See the Trouble with Me, co-written by Ray Parker Jr (Ghostbusters). It’s alright, but is sorely lacking the sex you’d expect from the Walrus of Love. I certainly haven’t had enough of Silly Love Songs – it’s one of my favourite Wings tracks. It’s a close runner-up for best of the year and is the cheeriest ‘Fuck you’ to Macca’s critics you’ll ever here. Love the harmonies in the breakdown near the end. A Little Bit More is one of Dr Hook’s (as they were known by then) best-known songs and I prefer it to Sylvia’s Mother, but those lyrics can’t help but sound a bit, well, rapey. Paul McCartney had a very good 1976 as Wings are back again with Let ‘Em In. I really like this tune, but unfortunately, it shows the problem with McCartney at times without John Lennon to bounce off. You’ve got this cool, moody music, set to lyrics about friends and family… just… knocking on his door, or ringing the bell. Shame. One of my favourite Rod Stewart songs is The Killing of Georgie (Part I and II) so it’s great to be reminded of that. Far removed from some of his more laddish tendencies, this is Stewart being sadly inspired by the killing of a friend of his band Faces. It’s a beautiful tune and a subject matter realty with sensitively. Or at least, Part I is. Part II is OK, but it’s a complete rip-off of The Beatles’ Don’t Let Me Down. The Real Thing are only really remembered for their great chart-topper You to Me Are Everything, but Can’t Get By Without You is also a good stab of disco, soul and funk. It must have surely inspired the theme to US 80s cop drama Hill Street Blues, which is what I thought it was when it came on. You Make Me Feel Like Dancing is one of Leo Sayer’s better tracks – he’s well-suited to this bright and breezy disco tune. Queen very nearly made it two Christmas number 1s in a row, and Somebody to Love has similarities to Bohemian Rhapsody. But it’s not as inventive. Nonetheless, it’s one of their most famous songs and a real rock anthem.

The Best:

Candi Staton – Young Hearts Run Free

Over lunch one day, Candi Staton’s producer David Crawford apparently asked the soul singer what was going on in her life and she told him about the abusive relationship she was struggling to find a way out of. Crawford took notes and promised her he’d write a song that would last forever. He achieved that with Young Hearts Run Free, which to me is the very definition of ‘bittersweet’. Set to a lovely upbeat disco backing, Staton isn’t jealous of the young people she sees in love, she just hopes they don’t end up like her. Many of the millions who’ve danced to this over the years may not have noticed how bleak the lyrics often are, which makes the beauty of the melody that much more effective. One of the best disco songs of the decade.

The Worst:

Demis Roussos – When Forever Has Gone

The Greek singer-songwriter was very big in 1976. OK, he was very big in general, but Excerpts from ‘The Roussos Phenomenon’ (EP), a spin-off from a hit BBC documentary, was the first EP to top the charts. This was the follow-up, but it’s not as good as the title track to that, Forever and Ever. It’s a bit sickly. Not by any means diabolical, but as I said, 1976 was a good year for number 2s.

1977

Disco is easily the most popular genre in a very strong year, full of great soul tracks that lit up the dancefloor. One of the best kicks things off. Heatwave’s Boogie Nights, written by Rod Temperton, has an amazing jazz-funk intro and outro, which opens out into a cool groove. David Soul’s Going in With My Eyes Open came between his two number 1s that year. It’s a rather bog standard ballad and the worst of the three tracks. Red Light Spells Danger by Billy Ocean is better than his last entry here. It has a great moody bassline and weird vocal effect to ramp up the tension. Then it’s the magnificent Stevie Wonder at the peak of his powers with his tribute to musical greats, in particular Sir Duke Ellington. Very nearly my pick for 1977. Southern soul singer Joe Tex’s biggest hit was Ain’t Gonna Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman) and rightly so. The bass is excellent here and I love the groove in the extended outro. Greg Lake’s back with Keith Emerson and Carl Palmer this time. Their version of Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man is a surprisingly punchy piece of prog rock, and is easy to enjoy. Lo and behold, here’s a Boney M track I don’t mind. If I ignore the cheesy interjections, Ma Baker is a nice disco tune and once again, a large part of that is down to the bass. Showaddywaddy return, once again with their feet firmly in the past, this time with a cover of Marv Johnson’s You Got What It Takes. Mediocre. Back to the disco next with the excellent Magic Fly. This one-hit wonder for the French band in spacesuits was highly influential, on fellow countrymen Air and Daft Punk, to name just a couple. Highly recommended. Black is Black had been a number 2 for Los Bravos in 1966 and here it is, revamped for the dancefloor by French vocal trio La Belle Epoque. It works well, with rhythmic strings and an usual echo on the vocals. Queen serve up another rock anthem at the end of the year. We Are the Champions is understandably one of their most famous tunes, and though some find it on the smug side, there’s no denying its mass appeal. A team of scientists declared it the catchiest pop song of all time in 2011.

The Best:

Sex Pistols – God Save the Queen

Here’s a timely tune. Created for the Silver Jubilee, the highest charting punk song of all time is being rereleased for the Platinum Jubilee. Sadly, its scabrous lyrics are more relevant than ever, as Johnny Rotten sings ‘And there’s no future/In England’s dreaming’. Words that could very easily be aimed at the horrendous, post-Brexit government led by our worst Prime Minister of all time, Boris Johnson. There’s enough proof out there to suggest that God Save the Queen was actually number 1 in the week of the Jubilee, but the establishment and music industry got together to ensure Rod Stewart was at pole position to save face. I prefer disco to punk nearly always, but this is an important moment in music that shouldn’t be forgotten and shook up pop culture forever.

The Worst:

Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band – The Floral Dance

As weird 70s novelty hits go, this is a doozy. An instrumental track that had lyrics when originally recorded in 1911, this version was rearranged by a West Yorkshire brass band and shot up the charts at Christmas. Why, I’ve no idea. If anyone could tell me, please do. Such was its popularity, Radio One DJ legend Terry Wogan recorded a version soon after. Though less successful at the time, it’s the better known of the two now.

1978

After such a good year, 1978 is a big disappointment. It’s nearly exclusively 50s and 60s throwbacks, which I’m not too keen on and it’s also the year of Grease, which I actually love. I know, this is confusing… Doo-wop revival nine-piece Darts are first up with Come Back My Love, originally from 1955. It left little impression on me. New wave makes its debut here as Blondie scored their first hit with Denis. It may be a surprise that despite how great the New Yorkers undoubtedly are, I’m not that keen on this. Could be because it’s a cover of a 1963 doo-wop song, originally called Denise. Sadly it’s the only new wave tune to make it to number 2. Darts again with The Boy from New York City, which was originally from 1964. This is actually OK – possibly because it’s by renowned hitmakers Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller. Then it’s, er, The Smurf Song by Father Abraham. Originally only 1,000 copies of this promo for the Belgian children’s characters were made. It somehow became huge because, er, it was the 70s. I loved the 80s animated series as a child, but this is just weird. Best of the bunch so far is a song I don’t think I’d ever heard before. Substitute had been a Righteous Brothers song three years previous but this version was by South African all-girl rockers Clout. It’s got a great chorus, really infectious. Darts are back for a third time and we’re in the doldrums again. Unlike their previous hits, It’s Raining was an original. However, it’s still retro and poor too. I like Rose Royce’s disco-soul ballad Love Don’t Live Here Anymore, mainly due to the early use of the LinnDrum. It’s followed by Boney M and again, not a bad one by their standards. Rasputin is probably their best song. Songs from the Grease soundtrack were everywhere that year, with You’re the One That I Want and Summer Nights enjoying 16 weeks in total in the top spot. Sandy was kept from the top spot by the latter. This John Travolta solo song was written specifically from the movie and it’s pretty fun, especially his naff way of singing ‘why-aye-aye-oh-why’.

The Best:

Olivia Newton-John – Hopelessly Devoted to You

OK, this is a surprise I guess. Like I said, not a fan in general of 50s/60s rock’n’roll tributes, or musicals in fact. But seeing Grease at a young age left its mark and you can’t deny the power of nostalgia. This Olivia Newton-John vehicle was another that didn’t feature in the original musical. It was written by Shadows member John Farrar and was a last-minute addition for the film. There are a few better songs technically in this section (although not that many, poor year in general), but it’s fun to belt out, so it wins, OK?

The Worst:

Showaddywaddy – I Wonder Why

The Leicester retro rock’n’roll act’s cover of a Dion and the Belmonts 1958 hit is lazy, it’s not a great song anyway and I’ve definitely had my fill of this genre now.

1979

As with the number 1s, 1979 is a strong year for runner-ups, thanks largely to new wave. One of the most famous bands of the decade brings things down at either end of the year though, surprisingly. But we’ve a disco belter in the Village People’s In the Navy. I think I may actually prefer this to Y.M.C.A. London new wave outfit Squeeze have a strong showing with their two biggest hits. Cool for Cats, at number 2 the day I was born, is my favourite of the two with its excellent disco groove and cockney vocals from Chris Difford. He should sing more often. Also love the synth breakdown from Jools Holland. Some Girls by Racey is infectious, even if it is a bit naff. Chinnichap’s mark is all over it, but it seems a bit old-fashioned and naff for 1979. Nonetheless, I have a soft spot for it. One of my favourites of the year is the ironic one-hit wonder Pop Muzik by M, aka singer/musician Robin Scott, who reminds me of Bryan Ferry. Which is also ironic as he’s followed by Roxy Music with the classy, melancholic Dance Away. Squeeze returned with the nicely acerbic working-class humour of Up the Junction. Then there’s a gear change with the wonderful lovers rock classic Silly Games by Dennis Bovell. I’ve loved this track since it took centre stage in Steve McQueen’s Lovers Rock and that vocal by Janet Kay is amazing. More reggae to follow, but Can’t Stand Losing You isn’t one of The Police’s better tracks if you ask me. I prefer their number 1s that year – Message in a Bottle and especially Walking on the Moon. Not sure what to make of BA Robertson’s Bang Bang. It doesn’t feel like authentic new wave but it is a quite good facsimile, I guess. Blondie return with Dreaming, one of their less famous hits but one I enjoyed as the theme to the final series of The Deuce. Runner-up for track of the year is Queen’s effortless Elvis tribute Crazy Little Thing Called Love. Apparently Mercury had it down in five minutes. The final number 2 of the decade was ABBA’s naff ballad I Have a Dream. It’s one of their most famous tracks but this is the side of ABBA that turns me off – that Europop anthem sound leaves me cold. How horrible that Westlife’s cover of this was the final number 1 of the 20th century.

The Best:

Elvis Costello and The Attractions – Oliver’s Army

My favourite track by new wave firebrand Elvis Costello, Oliver’s Army is probably the world’s only glossy pop track about The Troubles. The addition of piano flourishes to remind the public of ABBA’s classic Dancing Queen adds to the brilliance of this tune, inspired by seeing young British soldiers patrolling the streets of Belfast. Costello notes here how, wherever the war (and others are certainly noted), ‘they always get a working class boy to do the killing’. Oliver’s Army has been controversial of late, much like Brown Sugar, due to the lyric ‘Only takes one itchy trigger/One more widow, one less white nigger’. Despite somehow passing censorship on the radio for more than 30 years, in 2013 BBC 6 Music began removing the phrase. This caused controversy, with fans of the song noting its anti-war message. ‘White nigger’ was a slur used against Irish Catholics and Costello’s grandfather was called it while serving the British Army. In 2020 Costello pointed out that censorship only served to highlight the phrase and so he announced he would no longer perform the song and asked radio stations to not play it. I can see both sides of this and it’s hard to know what’s best. Nonetheless, it’s a great song.

ABBA – Chiquitita

ABBA. Infuriating. Dancing Queen is one of the finest number 1s of the 70s and the had an amazing hitrate. But they also came out with some crap. I Had a Dream I’ve already noted, but they opened 1979 with this pap, inspired by the far superior Simon and Garfunkel track El Condor Pasa (If I Could).

The Best 70s Number 2 Ever is…

Sex Pistols – God Save the Queen

It’s a common belief that punk changed the landscape of pop music, putting an end to staid MOR and prog rock. While this has been exaggerated somewhat (it amuses me to discover that ELP overtook the Sex Pistols at number 2 after the Silver Jubilee), hearing this in the context of the biggest hits of the decade really does hammer home how scary and exciting this must have sounded in 1977. Yes, punk didn’t set the charts alight too much after this, but its influence is soon seen in all the new wave that came in its wake and set the scene for the 80s. And as i’ve already pointed out, the message of this song is sadly more relevant than ever. As the Platium Jubilee begins, the UK has never been more divided. What a shame there’s no equivalent to punk and the Pistols in 2022. A Disney+ biopic doesn’t count.

The Worst 70s Number 2 Ever is…

Gary Glitter – Oh Yes! You’re Beautiful

There may have been worse songs in the 70s, but no other artist sickens in the way Gary Glitter does. And this time there’s little you can say that’s positive about the song either. Glam at its most mundane – in slave to the 50s, with a lyric that can’t sound anything but sickening in 2022. A symbol of everything that was wrong with the 70s. Lazy… derivative… tasteless… fake… played by Jimmy Savile on the radio, no doubt. Rotten to the core.

The Outro

As usual, my journey through the number 2s of the 70s often mirrored the chart-toppers. We’ve rock holding centre stage at the start, with a fascinating mix of classics. Then glam becomes the biggest scene and it’s exciting at first, before running out of steam a few years later. However, things get interesting in 1976, because for the first time that I can remember, the number 2s are of a higher standard in general than the number 1s. And 1977 is a hell of a year, full of disco classics and lesser-known soul and funk tunes for the dancefloor. Boney M, whose chart-toppers I dissed, come out of this better. 1978, the year in which the biggest selling songs of the year started to get more interesting thanks to new wave, instead fares badly here, thanks to the seemingly never-ending array of 50s revival acts. Thankfully, we go out with a bang once more with 1979. In general, the standard of the 70s number 2s is interesting, but not as high as the 60s.

Right, that’s it for this blog for the foreseeable. I’ll be back to announce the release date of the next book eventually. Wish me luck!

Every 60s Number 2

/ robbarker1979 / 1 Comment

The Intro

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, Save the Last 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

Connie Francis – 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’s Twist 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 Scarlett O’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 Wonderful Land. 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 Please Please Me was a number 1 anyway, but not in the ‘official’ chart this blog uses as reference.

The Worst

Ned Miller – From a Jack to a King

Bog-standard 60s country-pop that’s totally forgettable.

1964

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 Gonna Be 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 Nobody Needs 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 Stop Stop Stop, 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 Strawberry Fields Forever is probably their best song in my eyes. It’s frankly criminal that Release 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 Strawberry Fields 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 – There Goes 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.

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

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The Intro

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

Before

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Review

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

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

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

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

After

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Outro

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

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

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

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

The Info

Written by

Roger Waters

Producers

David Gilmour, Bob Ezrin, Roger Waters & James Guthrie

Weeks at number 1

5 (15 December 1979-18 January 1980)

Trivia

Births

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

Deaths

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

Meanwhile…

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

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

447. The Police – Walking on the Moon (1979)

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The Intro

Hot on the heels of their first number 1, Message In a Bottle, new-wave/reggae three-piece The Police were ruling the charts once again with this follow-up. And in a year of really hip number 1s, Walking on the Moon is one of the coolest.

Before

Their second album, Regatta de Blanc (which loosely translates into French as ‘White Reggae’) had been recorded between February and August. Although their label, A&M Records, had wanted to capitalise on their band’s growing wave of support with a bigger budget and more famous producer, The Police insisted on returning to Surrey Sound in Leatherhead with co-producer Nigel Gray.

Unlike their first album, Sting, Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers struggled to find enough new material to record and considered remaking debut single Fall Out. Digging out old material from before they were a band, they added new elements to flesh out the songs. Walking on the Moon, however, was brand new.

Sting came up with it while drunk one night in a Munich hotel following a gig. Slumped on the bed, the room spinning around him, he got up and started singing ‘Walking round the room, ya, ya, walking round the room’. In the morning he remembered the riff and wrote what he had down, but realised it was a rather dull premise for a song, so he changed the lyrics. He later admitted the song became the recollection of his first girlfriend, Deborah Anderson, and likened leaving her house in a loved-up state was akin to walking without gravity. Sting was a keen jazz buff, and one of his favourite tunes was John Coltrane’s Giant Steps, so the title also found its way in naturally to the opening line.

Originally conceived and demoed as a rocker, The Police and Gray decided a song about space should sound spaced out. Rather than delve into reggae as they often did, Walking on the Moon became a very successful experiment in dub. This genre, originally an offshoot of reggae, had been developed by pioneering producers including King Tubby, Augustus Pablo and Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry in the late-60s. They would reshape songs, often removing vocals and laying emphasis on the rhythm section, adding echo and reverb. It sounds brilliant when stoned.

A key instrument used in dub was the Roland RE-201 Space Echo unit, and The Police bought one with the money from their first hit, Roxanne. Drummer Copeland added the Space Echo to Walking on the Moon, using it to repeat not the preceding note, but the one before that. Doing so on the rhythm track created the wobbly, stuttering effect that makes it so atmospheric. The combination of Sting’s memorable three-note bass line with the drums was more than good enough on its own, but the icing on the cake was Summers’ idea to add the clanging guitar echo after the bass notes throughout.

Review

Were it not for Every Breath You Take, Walking on the Moon would easily rank as my favourite Police number 1. I love dub, in small doses, and it makes for great headphone music. Sting gets a mostly free pass for his often irritating vocal here, so great is the bass. If you think too much about it, the way he sings the title could still annoy – it is a cod-Jamaican accent, there’s no escaping it. It’s there again on the ‘Keep it up’ refrain at the end too. However, his least annoying performance comes in the least successful element of the song – the ‘Some may say/I’m wishing’ my days away’. The lyrics to this section don’t really fit the rest and just seem like rhymes for the sake of it.

I love the idea of likening new love to being as amazing as stepping out on to the Moon. The music is in complete contrast to that idea though, sounding edgy and mysterious. I guess there is a good comparison to be had with the great unknowns of what happens next in a love affair and moonwalking. Anyway, I’m rambling. I just wish there was a 12-inch version, which could have explored the outer reaches even more, really emphasising the echo.

Taking a literal approach for the video, Sting, Copeland and Summers were recorded at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida on 23 October 1979. They’re mostly pretending to play live, although Sting has an electric guitar rather than a bass, and Copeland is whacking his drumsticks against a Saturn V rocket. As with their last video, Derek Burbridge directs and Sting looks rather menacing, until all three crack up while dicking about inside.

After

Walking on the Moon very nearly made it to Christmas number 1, which would have made for a distinctly un-festive chart-topper and final number 1 of the 70s. What replaced it was even less cheery.

The Info

Written by

Sting

Producers

The Police & Nigel Gray

Weeks at number 1

1 (8-14 December)

Trivia

Births

14 December: Footballer Michael Owen

Deaths

9 December: Boxing promoter Jack Solomons

Meanwhile…

10 December: Stunt performer Eddie Kidd performs an 80ft motorcycle jump.

14 December: Doubts are raised over the convictions of the four men in the Carl Bridgewater case. Hubert Vincent Spencer is charged with murdering 70-year-old farmer Hubert Wilkes. The farmhouse where Wilkes was murdered was less than half a mile away from the one where Bridgewater had been killed.

446. Dr. Hook – When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman (1979)

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The Intro

From the cover of Rolling Stone to UK number 1, New Jersey country rock band Dr Hook enjoyed three weeks at the top with this disco-flecked look at the perils of punching above your weight.

Before

Dr Hook and the Medicine Show: Tonic for the Soul formed in 1968. Guitarist George Cummings had left the band Chocolate Papers and moved to Union City, New Jersey to start a new group. He brought with him their vocalist Ray Sawyer and keyboardist Billy Francis. Sawyer had lost his right eye in a motorcycle accident in 1967 and he’d worn an eyepatch ever since. Cummings came up with the new name as a reference to Sawyer resembling a pirate, despite Captain Hook not wearing a patch. They hired Dennis Locorriere as their bassist, and soon after former Chocolate Papers drummer Popeye Phillips also joined their ranks.

Phillips didn’t hang around long, and neither did his replacement, Joseph Olivier, but session drummer John ‘Jay’ David did. After two years of performing locally, fortune smiled on the five-piece. Their demo tapes were heard by Ron Haffkine, the musical director on the film Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?. He liked their sound and hired them to perform two songs, both sung by Locorriere. Though the film was only a modest success upon its release in 1971, it did get Dr Hook and the Medicine Show a recording contract with CBS Records. Haffkine became their producer and manager.

Their first album, Doctor Hook, spawned Sylvia’s Mother, a cheeky dig at teen-heartbreak ballads. This became a huge hit, reaching two in the UK and five in the US, but number 1 in Australia, Ireland and New Zealand. Follow-up album Sloppy Seconds featured The Cover of Rolling Stone, which poked fun at the idea of having made it if they were to appear on the front of the music magazine. When Jann Wenner, one of Rolling Stone‘s founders, heard about the song, he sent Cameron Crowe, then 16, to interview the band. They made it to the cover – but in cartoon form, and the song peaked at six in the US.

Meanwhile, the song couldn’t even get played on most UK radio stations. The BBC considered it wasn’t on to in effect advertise a publication on the air. A few of their DJs got together and edited the song to sing ‘Radio Times‘ instead, but it still failed to chart.

As the occasionally tortured voice of Locorriere began to feature more and more over Sawyer’s vocals, they hired Jance Garfat to play bass and Rick Elswit became second guitarist, both in 1972. But things began to go downhill for Dr Hook and the Medicine Show over the next few years. They earned a reputation for partying hard and quirky live performances, where they’d sometimes impersonate their support acts. But they overindulged, the 1973 album Belly Up! was a flop and David then left, to be replaced by John Wolters. In 1974 they filed for bankruptcy and their LP Fried Face didn’t even get a release.

Realising they needed to get their act together, they shortened their name to Dr Hook, signed with Capitol Records and penned their own material for a new album. The aptly named Bankrupt saw them return to the US singles chart, at six with a cover of Sam Cooke’s Only Sixteen. Elswit was briefly out of action due to cancer, so Bob ‘Willard’ Henk was brought in to help in 1976. He remained even once Elswit had recuperated and returned.

Also in 1976, Haffkine had bought the song A Little Bit More by Bobby Gosh for 35 cents at a flea market. He loved it and thought his band could make it a hit, and this romantic, but slightly rapey ballad was a smash, particularly in the UK, where it stormed to number two. The album it came from, with the same name, also featured If Not You, which peaked at five and More Like the Movies, number 14 in 1978.

In 1978 came their eighth album, Pleasure and Pain, which featured When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman. Songwriter Even Stevens (great name) pitched the song to Haffkine in the studio bathroom of Muscle Shoals Sound Studio in Alabama.

Review

Dr Hook’s brand of novelty country rock in general does little for me, and this isn’t up there with some of 1979’s many classic, innovative chart-toppers. However, whether this disco shuffle was a cynical attempt to get on the disco bandwagon or not, I’ve a soft spot for it. The rhythm really is irresistible, and brings to mind one of my favourite examples of the genre – George McCrae’s Rock Your Baby. The lyrics haven’t aged well – they’re a bit on the condescending side, assuming that because this woman is beautiful, she’s not to be trusted. Take the tune out of the equation and the lyrics sound like the man in the relationship is paranoid to the point of psychosis. He’s ‘been fooled before/By fair-weathered friends and faint-hearted lovers’ and it’s clearly left its mark. Big round of applause for the innuendo of the first line though, especially when the backing singers join in.

The video is more in keeping with the music, with Dr Hook having a lot of fun, beaming away in the studio. Locorriere pokes fun at the lyrics, going all starey and wild-eyed at ‘You watch your friends’, glancing edgily at Sawyer, then grinning at the camera so we know he’s just kidding. But then – oh no! Sawyer drives off at the end with not one but two beautiful women! Locorriere cannot believe it! What larks.

After

When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman was so successful, Dr Hook also included it on their next LP, Sometimes You Win. Their final Capitol album also featured Better Love Next Time, which peaked at eight, and Sexy Eyes, another decent disco/soft rock hybrid and number four smash in 1980. Henke left that year and was replaced by Rod Smarr. Going further down the disco route, they signed with Casablanca Records, but their time in the charts was up.

Sawyer reportedly was unhappy with Dr Hook’s songs, and perhaps felt sidelined now Locorriere was considered their frontman. He was by now the equivalent of Bez in Happy Mondays, or Davy Jones in The Monkees, mostly just shaking maracas. He decided to leave in 1983 and two years later, Dr Hook split up.

The Outro

Locorriere retained ownership of the band’s name but from 1988 to 2015 Sawyer toured as ‘Dr Hook featuring Ray Sawyer’. In 2018 Sawyer died, aged 81. Few classic era Dr Hook band members remain – Wolters died in 1997, Graft in 2006, Francis in 2010 and Smarr in 2012. Locorriere still tours under the band’s name.

The Info

Written by

Even Stevens

Producer

Ron Haffkine

Weeks at number 1

3 (17 November-7 December)

Trivia

Births

22 November: 5ive singer Scott Robinson
29 November: Comedian Simon Anstell
1 December: Field hockey player Lisa Wooding
3 December: Singer-songwriter Daniel Bedingfield

Deaths

23 November: Actress Merle Oberon
30 November: Comedian Joyce Grenfell

Meanwhile…

23 November: IRA member Thomas McMahon is sentenced to life in prison for the assassination of Lord Mountbatten.

4 December: When three boys are killed in the Hastie Fire in Hull, the hunt begins for Bruce George Peter Lee, one of the UK’s most prolific killers.

7 December: Lord Soames was appointed as the transitional governor of Rhodesia in order to oversee its move to independence.

445. Lena Martell – One Day at a Time (1979)

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

As we reach the end of 1979’s number 1s, we’ve been really spoiled by some true classics – the most in any one year since the 60s. New wave had made a real impact and pop was changing once more. This dreary country track sticks out like a sore thumb and takes us back to the MOR of mid-70s.

Before

Lena Martell, born Helen Thomson on 15 May 1940 in Possilpark, Glasgow, was a cabaret singer and BBC TV star. She was singing with her big brother’s band aged only 11. She then became a vocalist for the Jimmie McGregor Band at the Barrowland Ballroom. When her bandleader died, Martell decided to go it alone. Her debut single, Love Can Be was released in 1961. The rest of the decade passed with plenty of singles and one album, but nothing charted.

By 1971 Martell had her own series on BBC One. Presenting Lena Martell was your standard 70s Saturday night TV variety show, in which she would sing and introduce light entertainment, comedy and musical guests. Viewing figures topped 12 million, and her TV fame resulted in a contract with Pye Records the year after. Martell’s debut LP for them was named after her show.

One Day at a Time was a country gospel tune written by Marijohn Wilkin, with help from her protégé Kris Kristofferson, who was at that time a huge star. It was first recorded by Marilyn Sellars in 1974, and was a US top 40 hit. Three years later the Irish singer Gloria had a top 5 hit in her home country, before it was re-released a year later. It became number 1 in her home country, and still holds the record for the longest chart run of any song in Ireland. Martell’s cover was originally released in 1977. It didn’t chart.

Review

So, the burning question is, how did Martell, who had never had a single in the hit parade beforehand, find herself at number 1 with the re-release two years later, when the charts were full of exciting and idiosyncratic talent like Gary Numan, Ian Dury and Blondie?

I’m totally at a loss. In the years leading up to 1979, I could see why the likes of Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree were popular. Tacky, middle of the road and old-fashioned, yes, but at least they had memorable choruses. One Day at a Time is earnest and boring. I can only imagine Martell had covered it on her show, impersonating an American singer rather than singing in Scottish, and it had gone down well, so Pye re-released it to cash in. The older generation of churchgoers went out in their droves and it hung about in the upper reaches of the chart. As The Buggles, with their number 1 that looked to the future slipped, Martell took over. But for three weeks? Baffling.

After

This was the peak of Martell’s career in both TV and music. In 1980 her final TV show, Lena’s Music, was transmitted. She released a cover of a former number 1, Don’t Cry for Me Argentina, which got nowhere. Like many others of her ilk, Martell moved into theatre, and became a big star in West End musicals. She has sporadically released music ever since, with her last album to date, The Rose, released in 2007.

The Info

Written by

Marijohn Wilkin & Kris Kristofferson

Producer

George Elrick

Weeks at number 1

3 (27 October-16 November)

Trivia

Births

8 November: Footballer Aaron Hughes

Deaths

10 November: Engineer Sir Barnes Wallis

Meanwhile…

27 October: Saint Vincent and the Grenadines gains independence.

28 October: Chairman Hua Guofeng becomes the first Chinese leader to visit Great Britain.

30 October: Martin Webster of the National Front is found guilty of inciting racial hatred.

1 November: The government announces £3.5 billion in public spending cuts and increases of prescription charges.

5 November Thomas McMahon and Francis McGirl, the two men accused of murdering Lord Mountbatten and three others, go on trial in Dublin.

9 November: Four men are found guilty over the killing of the paperboy Carl Bridgewater, who was shot dead at a Staffordshire farmhouse 14 months previously. James Robinson and Vincent Hickey receive life sentences with a recommended minimum of 25 years for murder, 18-year-old Michael Hickey (also guilty of murder) receives an indefinite custodial sentence, and Patrick Molloy is guilty of manslaughter and jailed for 12 years.

11 November: The last episode of the first series of the BBC One sitcom To the Manor Born, starring Penelope Keith and Peter Bowles, was watched by 23.95 million viewers, the all-time highest figure for a recorded programme in the UK at that point.

13 November: The Times newspaper was published for the first time in nearly a year after a long dispute between management and unions.
But tensions between the miners and the government rise again when the former reject a 20% pay increase. They threaten to strike until they get a pay rise of 65%.

15 November: Art historian Anthony Blunt’s role as the ‘fourth man’ of the ‘Cambridge Five’ double agents for the Soviet Union during the Second World War is revealed by Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in the House of Commons.

444. The Buggles – Video Killed the Radio Star (1979)

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

No song sums up the dawning of a new decade and changing times like Video Killed the Radio Star. It heralded the video age, with MTV choosing it to kick the channel off. And it introduced the world to one of the best producers of the 80s.

Before

Trevor Charles Horn was born 15 July 1949 in Hetton Le Hole, Houghton le Spring, County Durham. The second of four children, Horn’s father was a semi-professional musician, who taught him how to play the basics of double bass when he was only eight. He also learnt the recorder at school, but by the mid-60s he loved The Beatles, Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones. By then, Horn had already been in a group, The Outer Limits, as a guitarist, but after leaving school he worked at a rubber factory and spent two evenings a week as a Dylan-style singer. He even had his songs played on BBC Radio Leicester.

Horn moved to London at 21 and became a session musician, producing jingles and recording with rock groups. He also featured in Ray McVay’s big band, appearing on the BBC’s Come Dancing. Three years later, Horn was becoming increasingly interested in production. He became involved in the completion of a recording studio in Leicester and subsequently produced there, among others, Leicester City FC.

By 1976, Horn was back in London and joined the touring band for the disco singer Tina Charles as her bassist. Her keyboardist was Geoffrey Downes.

Downes, born 25 August 1952 in Stockport, Cheshire, had musical parents, who played piano. He followed in their footsteps, taking up keyboards in several local bands. He studied at Leeds College of Music and then moved to London for session work on jingles. Downes then featured in the group She’s French, before meeting Charles and Horn.

Horn briefly became Charles’s boyfriend, and he studied the techniques of her producer, Biddu, who made her number 1 single, I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves to Dance). Also in the touring band was guitarist Bob Woolley, and Horn, Downes and Woolley found they shared a mutual interest in Kraftwerk’s The Man-Machine album. The trio talked about the future of pop, and imagined a time when there would be a record label without any human artists, just a computer in a basement with one man creating groups and songs on his computer. One such group would be called The Buggles, perhaps, in a reference to The Beatles.

The trio began recording demos above a stonemason’s. One song, Video Killed the Radio Star, was written in an hour one afternoon in 1978. Largely by Horn and Woolley, the latter was the man behind the infectious chorus. A demo was recorded, with Charles on vocals. Perhaps in part due to her star power and the fact Downes’ girlfriend worked for Island Records, the label decided to sign them. Of course, it could have just been that they recognised a bloody good song when they heard it.

As The Buggles, the trio began recording the album The Age of Plastic six months after their debut single had been written. But Woolley, who had also co-written Clean, Clean and On TV, decided to form a different new wave group. The Camera Club also featured Thomas Dolby, and their version of Video Killed the Radio Star was released before the more famous version. Without Horn and Downes’s production, The Camera Club version was rougher around the edges and not a patch on The Buggles version, but it’s a decent enough curio.

Meanwhile, The Buggles more complex version needed time to get right, and took more than three months work in the studio. Downes contributed a new intro and middle eight and the verses were extended. The instrumental track was recorded at Virgin Records’ Town House in West London in 12 hours. Mixing and the vocals were put together at Sarm East Studio.

In addition to Horn on bass and lead vocal, Downes provided synthesisers and percussion. Paul Robinson was on drums, Dave Birch played lead guitar and Debi Doss and Linda Jarmin provided the backing vocals. The song was mixed by Gary Langan, who later recalled it took forever, in part due to Horn’s obsession with the sound of the bass drum and the vocals. To achieve the old radio effect of Horn’s vocal, featuring a clipped accent akin to the type of singers heard back in the first days of the singles chart in 1952, his voice was compressed and played through a Vox amplifier.

Review

I’ve always enjoyed and been fascinated by Video Killed the Radio Star, dating back to seeing the video as a child. Due to Horn’s ‘mad scientist’ appearance, the female backing singers and the production used on Horn’s vocal, you can be fooled into thinking it’s nothing more than a catchy but possibly annoying novelty song. But of course there’s more to it than that. The Buggles are at once looking to the future of music and mourning its replacing of the past. Woolley, Horn and Downes certainly predicted well – video did become incredibly important in the early 80s, and it was inevitable that the fledgling MTV picked it to mark its debut on 1 August 1981. Videos have become more common in this blog of late, and once I reach the 80s, most number 1 singles will have one.

For this song, the video is almost as important was the song itself. Written, directed and edited by Australian Russell Mulcahy, it was filmed in South London in a day. A young girl, who wears a rather creepy, deadpan expression, fiddles with a 50s-style radio, before a black-and-white Horn appears holding the type of mic held by the likes of trad-pop singers in the formative years of the charts. The radio explodes and suddenly we’re transported to the future. The Buggles perform in an all-white studio while a woman in a futuristic outfit and wig cavorts in a clear plastic tube. The all-white studio is a regular feature of late-70s, early-80s videos – was it a deliberate style choice or was it done to save money? The weird camera angles and generally odd demeanour of everyone definitely freaked me out as a young boy, but there was no denying the quality of the song. Oh, and famous film composer Hans Zimmer makes a brief appearance too.

Horn’s vocal is of course comical, but it adds colour to the song and recalls the days of yore when singers and radio announcers really did talk like that. The new wave vocals of Doss and Jarmin are a great counterpoint, with the production making them swirl and stand out when listening on headphones. Although the production and video certainly embrace the future, the lyrics to Video Killed the Radio Star suggest otherwise, and profess a wish to hold back time and see ‘VTR’ as the enemy (not VCR, as I thought until googling the lyrics). I love the pause and ghostly echo before ‘You are the radio star’, and you get more of the melancholy behind the song with the coda that comes at the end of the album version. Although The Buggles may not have had the star power to be remembered for more than one song, it’s clear from Video Killed the Radio Star that Horn was going to be a brilliant producer in the years ahead.

After

Video Killed the Radio Star went to number 1 in many European countries and Australia, but only scraped into the US chart at 40. The debut Buggles LP, The Age of Plastic, was released in January 1980 and peaked at 27 in the UK. Their second single, Living in Plastic, climbed to 16, then Clean Clean reached 38. It was the last chart action the duo had.

As The Buggles set to work on their next album, the prog rock band Yes were in the next-door studio. Their vocalist Jon Anderson and keyboardist Rick Wakeman had left during the sessions and they had yet to find replacements. Horn in particular was a big Yes fan, so Horn replaced Anderson, Downes was the new keyboardist, and The Buggles worked on the new Yes LP, Drama. Although the album performed well, many hardcore Yes fans weren’t keen on the new line-up, and Yes were booed during the accompanying tour. They split up that December.

The Buggles reconvened in January 1981 to begin second album Adventures in Modern Recording. However, Downes had decided to join the new supergroup, Asia. On the first day of recording with Horn, he quit The Buggles.

Horn soldiered on alone and Adventures in Modern Recording was released that November. It was a flop, but many of the studio techniques he adopted over the next few years were introduced here, including the use of sampling thanks to the Fairlight CMI. Without a band to help out, he enlisted Sheffield New Romantics ABC (by then he was working on their classic album Lexicon of Love). Their performance on Dutch TV to promote the single Lenny marked the end of The Buggles.

Over the years Downes became the longest-serving member of Asia. He also released solo albums, sometimes as The New Dance Orchestra. since 2011 he’s worked with Yes and Asia. Along the way, he made it into the Guinness Book of Records by performing with a record 28 keyboards on stage during one performance.

And Horn? Well, he produced some of the hottest acts of the 80s and worked on some of the greatest singles of all time, many of which went to number 1, so we’ll see his name a lot in years to come. Grace Jones, Dollar, Malcom McLaren, Yes, Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Pet Shop Boys all benefitted from his magic touch. Relax, one of the greatest chart-toppers of the decade, was, bar Holly Johnson’s brilliant vocal, all Horn’s work. He also co-formed avant-garde synth pop group Art of Noise, in 1983. Such was his influence, he became known as ‘The Man Who Invented the Eighties’.

In the 90s Horn worked with Seal, Paul McCartney and Tom Jones, to name but three. In 2002 he produced the number 1 All the Things She Said for Russian duo t.A.T.u. It’s worth noting that in 2009 he produced the Robbie Williams album Reality Killed the Video Star, which showcased their mutual disdain for shows like The X Factor.

In 2006 he formed supergroup The Producers, featuring, among others, Lol Creme of 10cc. They’re now known as The Trevor Horne Band. He’s also worked with current stars including John Legend and performs with Dire Straits Legacy.

The Outro

Horn and Downes have reformed The Buggles briefly several times since 1998. It wasn’t until 2010 that the first ever actual concert, billed as ‘The Lost Gig’, finally happened. This fundraiser for the Royal Hospital for Nero-disability saw them perform The Age of Plastic in its entirety, with help from a cavalcade of stars including Creme, Alison Moyet, Gary Barlow and Richard O’Brien.

In 2017 Horn announced that he, Downes and Woolley were working on a musical called The Robot Sings. Based on The Tempest, it would feature The Buggles’ number 1, plus new compositions by Downes.

The Info

Written by

Bruce Woolley, Trevor Horn & Geoff Downes

Producers

The Buggles

Weeks at number 1

1 (20-26 October)

Meanwhile…

23 October: All remaining foreign exchange controls were abolished.

24 October: Welcome home to ITV! After 10 weeks of industrial action, the ITV strike came to an end.

443. The Police – Message in a Bottle (1979)

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

Formed in the ashes of punk, The Police were one of the most successful new wave bands, combining rock, punk, reggae and jazz influences. They had five UK number 1s between 1979 and 1983 and sold over 75 million records, making them one of the bestselling bands of all time. And singer-songwriter Sting went on to become very famous indeed as a solo star.

Before

Two thirds of The Police first teamed up in late November 1976, when Stewart Copeland met Gordon Sumner. Copeland was born in Alexandra, Virginia, but moved to the UK briefly in the 60s and again in 1974 to become the road manager for prog rock group Curved Air. He then became their drummer, but the band had split by the time of his first encounter with Sumner.

Sumner, from Northumberland, was a teacher who performed bass with the Newcastle Big Band and Phoenix Jazzmen on his time off. While with the latter he earned his nickname due to a black and yellow striped jumper he was fond of wearing. He co-founded the jazz fusion group Last Exit in 1974 but they split the same year as Curved Air.

Copeland was inspired by punk and suggested to Sting they form a new group and join the scene in London. Sting moved there in January. He was less keen on punk, but ambitious to succeed and saw how it could create opportunities. Corsican guitarist Henry Padovani became the third member.

The Police performed their debut gig in Newport, Wales on 1 March 1977, which apparently only lasted 10 minutes. Two months later came their first single, Fall Out, on Illegal Records, founded by Copeland, his brother Miles Copeland III and Paul Mulligan, their manager.

That May, Sting was invited by former Gong member Mike Howlett to perform in his new project Strontium 90. When the planned drummer became unavailable, Sting took Copeland along. Also in Strontium 90 was Andy Summers. The Lancashire-born guitarist had previously played with Eric Burdon and The Animals and with Kevin Ayers. Strontium 90 recorded some demo tracks and among them was Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic, a future number 1 for The Police.

Sting was becoming frustrated with Padovani’s ability and asked Summers to join The Police. Summers would only do so if he replaced Padovani but Sting and Copeland couldn’t go through with telling him, but only two gigs later, Summers issued them with another ultimatum and Padovani was out. He joined Wayne County & The Electric Chairs.

Sting became more excited about the avenues The Police could explore in their new line-up, and the songs came thick and fast. But they were struggling for money, and it was the opportunity to star in an advert for Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum, directed by Tony Scott, which resulted in the trio dying their hair blonde. The advert never aired, but there peroxide cuts made them stand out, as did their looks in general, particularly Sting.

Copeland III leant The Police money to finance their debut LP, Outlandos d’Amour. Released in November 1978, it had been preceded by Roxanne in April. This reggae-influenced tale of a prostitute was claimed by their label to have been banned by the BBC, which wasn’t true. But they did ban the follow-up Can’t Stand Losing You due to the sleeve pic of Copeland hanging himself. Neither single, nor their next, So Lonely, charted.

However, in February 1979 Roxanne was released in the US and it did pretty well, peaking at 32. It was re-released in the UK and following a performance on Top of the Pops it scored them their first hit, climbing to 12. Suddenly they had momentum. A US tour was followed by a re-release of Can’t Stand Losing You, which was a number two smash.

In the same month the re-release of Roxanne catapulted The Police to stardom, they recorded Message in a Bottle at Surrey Sound Studios. In September it became the first single from their second album Regatta de Blanc. This was, incidentally, the same month the film Quadrophenia, based on The Who album from 1973, was released. Sting played Ace Face.

The central guitar riff to Message in a Bottle had been thought up by Sting and was intended for a different song originally. The arpeggiated guitar part before the third verse was Summer’s idea. Copeland’s drumming, later considered by Summers to be his finest drum track, was overdubbed from around six different parts.

https://youtu.be/MbXWrmQW-OE

Review

Me and The Police have a strange relationship. With their unique mix of different genres including dub, reggae and jazz, I should in theory have a lot of time for them. And at least two of their number 1s are brilliant. But I’m often put off by Sting’s voice. I’m really not a fan of his attempt to sound black and I’m surprised in today’s #cancelled culture that it isn’t more widely criticised. Thankfully he reins it in during their later years but it’s here in full effect. The ‘o’ at the end of many of the lines is irritating and rather patronising.

I can’t deny the band themselves sound great, though. Without the polish of the later years, there’s a real muscularity to their sound, and all three put in a great effort. And Sting’s lyrics, in which a castaway puts a message in a bottle to try and find love, only to discover a year later ‘a hundred billion bottles on the shore’, from likeminded souls, are rather poignant. Love the music behind Sting every time he sings the title moodily, too. It’s quite a lengthy track but at the same time flashes by all too quickly. I’d love to hear a longer version.

The official video, as seen above, mostly features the band miming to the track in a dressing room, intercut with shots of a city and the band performing live. Sting mostly looks rather menacing, while Copeland manically drums on parts of his drumkit.

After

Despite The Police’s varied influences, Message In a Bottle is a great pop song, and a deserved chart-topper. It also went to number 1 in Ireland, and five in Australia, but somehow failed to catch on in the US. All three band members still regard it highly and Summers thinks it’s their best ever track. Number 1 for three weeks in the autumn of the year, The Police would soon follow it up with an even better single.

The Info

Written by

Sting

Producers

The Police & Nigel Gray

Weeks at number 1

3 (29 September-19 October)

Trivia

Deaths

10 October: Psychologist Dr Christopher Evans

442. Gary Numan – Cars (1979)

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

Four days after Tubeway Army went to number 1 with the influential new wave sound of Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, singer-songwriter and producer Gary Numan had dropped the band name and recorded a John Peel session as a solo artist. His next single, Cars, was a stone cold electro-pop classic and a deserved second chart-topper.

Before

Numan was already working on his debut solo LP, The Pleasure Principle, when Tubeway Army promoted Are ‘Friends’ Electric? on Top of the Pops. Paul Gardiner remained on bass, but Cedric Sharpley was the drummer and their ranks were bolstered by Ultravox keyboardist Billy Currie (his band were on hiatus) on violin and Chris Payne on keyboards. This line-up were now, in effect, just Numan’s backing band.

The Pleasure Principle was recorded in London’s Marcus Music Studio and saw Numan drop guitars altogether in favour of an almost entirely electronic array of instruments, with most sounds emanating from a Minimoog and Polymoog, played by either himself or Payne. As with Tubeway Army’s Replicas album, most of his lyrics were sci-fi based, focusing on subject matters including the last machine left on Earth.

A more contemporary and down-to-earth lyrical concept was Cars, which Numan later claimed was written before Are ‘Friends’ Electric? and his first attempt at a straightforward pop song. The lyrics were inspired by a road rage incident, in which the singer claimed he was in a traffic jam in London when people in the car in front got out and tried to pull him from his car and attack him. Numan locked the doors and managed to get away by driving on the pavement.

In addition to vocals and synths, Numan provided synthetic percussion alongside Sharpley’s drums and percussion. Gardiner and Payne were also involved but Currie wasn’t. The Minimoog was mostly used to augment that classic bass riff, while the Polymoog provided the icy synthetic string accompaniment.

Review

Numan later described Cars as ‘pretty average’ but it’s one of the best number 1s of 1979. Musically, like Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, it’s incredibly simple, but that’s part of the charm and why the public took to it so well and it’s still so fondly remembered. That riff is of course the main weapon to hook listeners in, but I love the proto-New Romantic Polymoog sound that heralds the early-80s pop production sound.

It’s fascinating to hear Numan come at cars from a different angle to Kraftwerk, who of course were a huge influence on Numan. Whereas the German electronic pioneers had written Autobahn as a lengthy love song to driving on the motorway, Cars is short and to the point. Numan sees his vehicle as sanctuary from the outside world, locking himself away from human contact.

‘Here in my car,
I feel safest of all,
I can lock all my doors,
It’s the only way to live,
In cars’

As someone with Asperger’s, it’s fair to say Numan is probably writing about himself here. However, as the song progresses (and there’s actually few lyrics here at all – the second half of the song is instrumental), Numan realises he actually does need companionship: ‘Will you visit me please/If I open my door’. The door is literally left open as the song plays out.

Looking at the song another way, it’s perhaps a take on a near-future. Numan plays up his android persona with that Bowie-like vocal technique, giving the impression of a human stripped of emotion, driving round a dystopian landscape in which people no longer interact.

Of course, most people lost likely just liked it because it was really memorable and a song about cars is somewhat of a novelty, and guaranteed to be used on a million TV shows whenever a song about cars is needed, because why not, it’s the song Cars?

In the video, Numan and co play up the Kraftwerk similarities even more. Starting with Numan standing alone on a pyramid stage (in a nod to the artwork for The Pleasure Principle, in which Numan stares at a small pyramid on a desk), he’s then joined by the rest of his band, who all stand emotionless, joining Numan in acting like robots. Ruining this somewhat is Sharpley, who is in classic rock drummer mode, seemingly playing a totally different song to everyone else. Then, there’s five Numans holding imaginary steering wheels as on the single’s sleeve, stood on a giant Polymoog. It’s a fun, cool study in new wave electronic cool.

After

Released on 21 August, a month later Cars was in pole position in the UK. It did very well elsewhere too, earning him his first (and, alas, only) US hit, peaking at nine. The Pleasure Principle went to number 1 in the UK album chart, and the next single, Complex, reached six.

The following year came the album Telekon, featuring a larger array of synths but returning guitars to the mix. It spawned two top 10 singles – We Are Glass (five) and I Die: You Die (six). Never much of a fan of touring back then, he announced his retirement from performing live and said goodbye with live shows at Wembley Arena. Soon after came a new album, Dance in which Numan began to move away from the electro-pop sound, just as it exploded across the charts courtesy of the New Romantic movement. It featured Queen drummer Roger Taylor. It’s one single, She’s Got Claws, went to six.

As up-and-comers such as Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, The Human League and Duran Duran started notching up hits, Numan’s commercial fortunes declined. Although the 1982 album I, Assassin included the excellent funk sound of Music for Chameleons (as mimed to by Steve Coogan in I’m Alan Partridge) and We Take Mystery (To Bed), the latter was his last top 10 single to date, peaking at nine.

1983 album Warriors saw Numan explore jazz-funk further and he announced his return to touring. It was his last LP for Beggar’s Banquet and he released several on his own label, Numa. Berserker (1984) featured samplers for the first time but was his least successful release at that point. The Fury didn’t do much better a year later but Strange Charm in 1986 did at least feature two top 30 singles – This Is Love (28) and I Can’t Stop (27). However, it was the last release on Numa.

In 1987 Beggar’s Banquet released a remix of Cars to promote a greatest hits compilation. The E Reg Model remix is pretty good – I don’t know who’s behind the production but there’s some nice touches added and it avoids the trap of many mid-80s remixes of veering off into bombastic production. It deservedly reached 16.

Numan signed with IRS but they angered him by changing the 1988 album Metal Rhythm to New Anger and remixing it against his wishes. After 1991’s Outland he reactivated Numa but Machine + Soul marked a low ebb, released mainly to try and pay off debts. With moral support from his future wife Gemma, Numan decided to give up on trying to rekindle his pop career and instead begin writing more personally. The result, Sacrifice, proved timely. Released in 1994, he played all the instruments himself and created a dark, industrial sound, just as bands he had influenced, like Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson, began to gain popularity.

Numan shut down his label permanently as his critical stock began to rise once more. A third remix of Cars (this one was known as ‘The Premier Mix’; there had been an unnamed one in 1993) charted in 1996 after its use on an advert for Carling Premier. Similar in sound to the ‘E Reg’ version, it earned Numan his first top 20 song in nine years, motoring to 17. The albums Exile (1997) and Pure (2000) were lavished with critical praise and Rip, from the latter, reached 29 in 2002.

With Scottish industrial singer Rico, he scored a number 13 hit in 2003. Quite a remarkable comeback. He also provided vocals for dance music duo Plump DJs that year. With money coming in once more, Numan launched Mortal Records and released Jagged in 2006, accompanied by a successful tour. Two years later, to commemorate his 30th year in music, he toured the Tubeway Army LP Replicas (1979) in its entirety.

In 2011 Numan released Dead Son Rising and collaborated with US experimental rock outfit Battles. Two years later came the eagerly awaited Splinter (Songs from a Broken Mind), which became his bestselling album in 30 years, only to be overtaken by the sequel, a concept album about a post-apocalyptic world caused by global warming. Savage (Songs from a Broken World) was his most popular release since Telekon.

Numan’s 21st and latest album, Intruder, was released in 2021. Over the decades he’s gone from being reviled by some, and/or a figure of fun (he’s said in recent years how announcing his support for Margaret Thatcher did lasting damage) to a respected figure in music. And rightly so, because his two number 1s are brilliant.

The Outro

Now 63, he won’t ever be admired to the level of David Bowie and Kraftwerk, who he was often accused of ripping off, but he’s stuck it out and influenced many through the years. And all along, his hardcore devotees, the Numanoids, have stuck with him through thick and thin.

The Info

Written & produced by

Gary Numan

Weeks at number 1

1 (22-28 September)

Trivia

Births

22 September: Labour MP Rebecca Long-Bailey
28 September: Gymnast Annika Reeder

Deaths

27 September: Comedian Gracie Fields/Wings guitarist Jimmy McCulloch

Meanwhile…

25 September: Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher opens the new Central Milton Keynes Shopping Centre. The then-largest indoor shopping centre in Britain had taken six years to build.

441. Cliff Richard – We Don’t Talk Anymore (1979)

/ robbarker1979

The Intro

Remember this guy? Once a mainstay of this blog, the ‘Peter Pan of Pop’ hadn’t topped the charts since Congratulations won Eurovision in 1968. 11 years later, Cliff Richard’s comeback, which began with Devil Woman, was complete with this 10th number 1.

Before

The Shadows, who often acted as Richard’s backing band, with who he shared many hits and number 1s, decided to split at the end of 1968. Their last single together was Don’t Forget to Catch Me, which reached 21. Despite being unfashionable, he still had a large enough following to notch up plenty of hits, ending the 60s with two top 10 hits in 1969 – Big Ship (eight) and Throw Down a Line (with Shadows guitarist Hank Marvin), climbing to seven.

The 70s began with Richard fronting his own BBC series, It’s Cliff Richard, which ran from 1970 to 1976 and featured the singer with musical friends including Marvin and Olivia Newton-John. His 50th single, the intriguingly named Goodbye Sam, Hello Samantha, went all the way to six in 1970. Many of Richard’s singles for the first half of the 70s were in line with his Christian beliefs – I’m not going to listen to them all to find out, but I’d put money on Jesus (1972) being a prime example.

Having been considered almost as much an actor as a singer in his peak years of the 60s, Richard gave up his film career after starring in the film Take Me High in 1973. He also had another bash at the Eurovision Song Contest that year. Power to All Our Friends finished third that year. Apparently he was so nervous during the competition he took valium and his manager struggled to wake him. It was at least a big hit, climbing to four and earning him his best chart performance for the next six years.

The next couple of years were lean for the not-very-mean machine. His only single in 1974, (You Keep Me) Hangin’ On did OK (13), but he messed up in 1975 when he chose to cover Conway Twitty’s Honky Tonk Angel. Richard recorded a video, 1,000 singles were pressed up and EMI expected it to perform well, but when Richard discovered ‘honky tonk angel’ was Southern American slang for a prostitute, the whiter-than-white pop star was horrified and insisted it was withdrawn. What on earth would God have made of it? This meant that, for the first time in his career, Richard had gone a calendar year without a chart entry.

However, it was decided that, rather than continue down the purely righteous path Richard seemed hell-bent on, he should be repackaged as a rock singer. At the time this must have seemed laughable, and to be honest I’m struggling to imagine it while typing this. But, good Lord, it worked!

Teaming up with Bruce Welch (another guitarist from the Shadows) on production duties, the nicely titled LP I’m Nearly Famous was an unexpected smash. And not only commercially – guitarists Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton were just two of the rock stars spotted wearing ‘I’m Nearly Famous’ badges in honour of the comeback kid. Although Miss You Nights (15) was a ballad, the follow-up, Devil Woman, is a classic slab of pop-rock, with a hell of a chorus. And listen, that’s Cliff Richard singing a song with ‘devil’ in it! With punk rock rearing its ugly head, a more edgy Cliff Richard was very timely.

The comeback didn’t last long though. The next album, Every Picture Tells a Story, spawned only one hit – My Kinda Life (number 15 in 1977). Perhaps feeling he must atone for his sins, Richard then released an album of Christian gospel called Small Corners in 1978. Neither that or his next pop LP, Green Light, performed well. 1978 was also the year Richard reunited with The Shadows for concerts at the London Palladium, as captured on Thank You Very Much.

Despite appearing on stage with Welch once more, the Shadows guitarist didn’t produce his next album, Rock’n’Roll Juvenile. That honour went to Terry Britten, who had worked with Richard many times in the past. Recording sessions began back in July 1978 but vocals weren’t begun until January 1979.

We Don’t Talk Anymore was recorded in one day, five months later. For some reason, Welch received production credit for Richard’s 10th number 1. It was written and arranged by Alan Tarney, a new collaborator, who also played guitar, keyboards, synthesiser and bass on the track, as well as performing backing vocals. On drums was his former bandmate in Quartet, Trevor Spencer.

Review

It’s no Devil Woman, but We Don’t Talk Anymore is a decent pop song and Richard’s best number 1 since Summer Holiday in 1963. I have to confess that I used to think this came much later in his career, and was a Stock Aitken Waterman production from the late-80s or early-90s. It’s something about that catchy, melancholic yet soaring chorus combined with a very light production sound. In its own way, it’s as contemporary as Are ‘Friends’ Electric? with its keyboard-heavy arrangement. Though not nearly as good.

Has to be said though, I’ve never heard Richard sound so passionate. I mean, it’s not exactly a raw, emotional performance – this is Cliff Richard we’re talking about after all. But he gives it a rare bit of oomph! The verses are pretty bog-standard ‘my woman has left me’ and not much to write home about – it’s all about the earworm of the chorus really, and the emotion at the end. Weird lyrical phrasing too – ‘It’s so funny/How we don’t talk anymore’. None too shabby. With The Beatles long gone and Elvis Presley six feet under, Richard could still sell records, when he tried.

The video for We Don’t Talk Anymore is as 70s as it gets, featuring Richard and band performing amid a smoky stage, Richard occasionally merging into himself through a dated but charming kaleidoscopic effect.

After

Cliff Richard fared better in the 80s than the 70s, regularly appearing in the upper reaches of the charts. But it would be seven years before his 11th number 1, for which he shared billing with a series named after one of his most famous chart-toppers…

The Info

Written by

Alan Tarney

Producer

Bruce Welch

Weeks at number 1

4 (25 August-21 September)

Trivia

Births

14 September: Rugby league player Stuart Fielden

Deaths

27 August: Louis Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma (see ‘Meanwhile…’)
28 August: Doreen Knatchbull, Baroness Brabourne
29 August: Painter Ivon Hitchens

Meanwhile…

27 August: Lord Mountbatten of Burma, cousin to the Queen and uncle of the Duke of Edinburgh, was assassinated by a Provisional IRA bomb while on board a boat when holidaying in the Republic of Ireland. His 15-year-old nephew Nicholas Knatchbull and boatboy Paul Maxwell were also killed, and Dowager Lady Brabourne died from injuries sustained a day later.
Also that day, 18 British soldiers were killed in Northern Ireland at the Warrenpoint ambush.

30 August: Two men were arrested in Dublin and charged with the murder of Lord Mountbatten and the three other victims of the bombing.

2 September: Police found the body of 20-year-old student Barbara Leach in an alleyway near Bradford city centre. She was to be named as the 12th victim of the Yorkshire Ripper.

5 September: The Queen lead mourning at the funeral of Lord Mountbatten.
Also on this day, Manchester City paid a British club record fee of £1,450,000 for Wolverhampton Wanderers midfielder Steve Daley.

8 September: Wolverhampton Wanderers broke the record by paying just under £1,500,000 for Aston Villa and Scotland striker Andy Gray. 

10 September: British Leyland announced production of MG cars would cease in the autumn of 1980. 

14 September: The government announced plans to regenerate the London Docklands through housing and commercial developments.

21 September: A Royal Air Force Harrier jet crashed into a house in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire, killing two men and a boy.