Every 70s Number 1

The Intro

In just over two years I’ve covered all the chart-toppers of the 70s. 168 blogs covering some of the best and worst pop songs of the decade. It was a decade of predictable highs and some unexpectedly huge lows.

The 60s were an incredible decade of transformation in music, thanks to pioneers like The Beatles. But in 1970 they split, and left a vacuum that took some time to get filled. But that’s not to say things immediately went to pot. As albums overtook singles in popularity, the early-70s number 1s are a fascinating mishmash of genres, as pop tried to chart its course through early-adulthood.

As we’ll see, glam rock acts like T Rex and Slade finally replaced The Beatles to an extent, and helped the country through some dark years. But then pop went through the equivalent of a mid-life crisis.

The mid-70s made for some often grim listening experiences, and you’ve only to watch episodes of Top of the Pops from that time to see how depressing things had become. The audience often look listless and bored rigid. Which is interesting, as the middle of the 60s was the most fertile period in pop, perhaps ever.

As we know, the story goes that punk gave pop a much-needed shot in the arm. And it’s true, but it took a while for that to sink into chart music, and the last few years of the decade saw a huge improvement. That’s thanks to new wave, which melded the rebelliousness and energy of punk with pop sensibilities. 1979 in particular is an embarrassment of riches, as we’ll see.

So, as with the 50s and 60s, here we go with a whistle-stop review of each year of the 70s, with my picks for the best and worst of each year, ending with my pick for each from the entire decade.

1970

As with the start of the 60s, 1970 begins as the previous decade, with rock remaining the most popular genre. The biggest difference is, for the first time since 1962, The Beatles didn’t get to number 1. Starting things off nicely are Edison Lighthouse, with the very Summer of Love-sounding Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes). Things take a dark, strange turn after that, and I have to say that Lee Marvin’s Wand’rin’ Star still impresses! There are some great lyrics in there, growled very effectively. Simon & Garfunkel bowed out as a duo with the first classic – Bridge over Troubled Water proves the hippy dream of loving and caring for your brothers and sisters wasn’t dead, even if the two singers couldn’t stand recording together after this. The early stirrings of glam appear thanks to Norman Greenbaum’s brilliant one-hit wonder Spirit in the Sky, which went to number 1 in the 80s and 00s for two other acts. Hard to believe now but for a while, it looked as if Mungo Jerry might become as big as the Fab Four. As silly as that sounds, you can’t deny that In the Summertime can still put a smile on anyone’s face. It’s another great 1970 number 1. Also deserving a notable mention is Matthews’ Southern Comfort’s poignant take on Joni Mitchell’s Woodstock. It’s such an underrated chart-topper, and a touching tribute to the 60s. As the decade struggles to find its way, it looks back at what came before several times. Two number 1s this year are actually 60s tracks. Smokey Robinson and The Miracles’ Tears of a Clown, another classic, has aged brilliantly, dating back to 1967. I’ll talk about the other in due course… Speaking of past stars, Elvis Presley is back at number 1 for the first time since 1965 with a cover of a 50s song, and Dave Edmunds rounds off in a similar way with I Hear You Knocking. There’s decent soul with interesting lyrics courtesy of Freda Payne’s Band of Gold, and Christie’s Yellow River has a very catchy chorus. There’s very little I can say bad about 1970 really. Even the England World Cup football team’s official song Back Home was an OK curio.

The Best:

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Voodoo Chile

Released as a single after guitar genius Jimi Hendrix’s shock death at the age of 27, this track, originally called Voodoo Chile (Slight Return), closed the group’s final album Electric Ladyland, released in 1968. Never intended as a single, Hendrix sings about his superhuman prowess but soon lets his guitar do the talking, as he so often did, to dizzying effect. Panning around the listener’s head, this supercharged psychedelia is the perfect showcase of the great man’s amazing talent, and is another appropriate epitaph on an amazing decade.

What’s the best 1970 number 1 that actually dates from that year? That’s actually almost impossible to decide between Bridge over Troubled Water, Spirit in the Sky and Woodstock. I’ll go with Simon & Garfunkel.

The Worst:

Dana – All Kinds of Everything

In an very impressive year, the Irish singer’s Eurovision winner sticks out like a sore thumb. Perfect for that competition, not so right for a year of great rock and soul. This ultra-twee ballad was spoofed even at the time, and it’s aged badly.

1971

In general, a noticeable divide appears this year that applies for most of the decade. The hip kids are turned on to the new glam sound emerging from T Rex with classics like Hot Love and Get It On, and Slade finally crack the charts – though they’re not the full-on force they’ll soon become, Coz I Luv You is still a catchy stomper. Meanwhile, the parents and grandparents are happy with cheesy dreck like Dawn’s Knock Three Times. Take a closer look though and it’s not that straightforward, as everyone seemed to love Middle of the Road’s Chirpy Chirpy Cheep – their name was perhaps more appropriate than anyone gave them credit for. And as bad as it is, never discount the effectiveness of an earworm. Also appealing to every generation, which probably explains why it became the year’s biggest seller, is George Harrison, becoming the first Beatle to have a solo number 1. The originality of My Sweet Lord may be debated but Harrison did the job with this lovely hymn that transcends devotion to one God. We also see hear just how popular novelty songs became in the 70s, with Clive Dunn’s Grandad kicking things off and Benny Hill’s Ernie (The Fastest Milkman in the West). And I don’t mind either, really. The soul choices for this year are average – Diana Ross’s I’m Still Waiting, then toppled by The Tams’ Hey Girl Don’t Bother Me. Much more enjoyable, and a refreshing change, is the reggae/ska track Double Barrel by Dave and Ansil Collins. Rod Stewart also gets the first of many appearances, and Reason to Believe/Maggie May are good – the latter is obviously a classic. Mungo Jerry bow out with the raucous sleazy curio Baby Jump.

The Best:

T Rex – Hot Love

After years of searching for stardom, Marc Bolan finally hit upon the sound that would make him gain music immortality. Hot Love is particularly strong. It’s sexy, raunchy and retains the weirdness of his Tyrannosaurus Rex era with some strange lyrics and those slightly unhinged backing vocals from Flo & Eddie. It’s Bolan’s Hey Jude, with a long triumphant fade-out, before he became obsessed with streamlining his winning formula to the point of parody.

The Worst:

Dawn – Knock Three Times

It was a toss-up between this and Middle of the Road, but as I said, Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep is at least very memorable, as pop should be. This isn’t really, is a throwback to the Humperdinck-MOR of the 60s, and a sign of some of the crap to come throughout the 70s.

1972

Glam rock continues to grow, and T Rex have their final two number 1s. Although the well has begun to run dry rather quickly for Marc Bolan, I have to confess Telegram Sam has grown on me since I reviewed it, and Metal Guru is fine life-affirming pop. Slade also notched up two more chart-toppers, and with Mama Weer All Crazee Now, they hit upon the template of fun glam anthems that would peak the following year. You could potentially stick Alice Cooper in the genre too, although they were more schlock-rock really. Nonetheless, this is a rather poor link into the fact that School’s Out still sounds great. There’s plenty of great stuff from this year. Chicory Tip’s Son of My Father is the first number 1 to feature a synthesiser, and we’d hear more of that instrument and its pioneer Giorgio Moroder, who co-wrote this song, later in the 70s. Nilsson invented the power ballad with his cover of Badfinger’s Without You – this is the best version of a great tune, later a number 1 for Mariah Carey. 1972 saw the start of two families cornering the teen pop market – one real and one fictional. The Osmonds became an ever-present force in the charts, mainly thanks to the squeaky-clean Donny Osmond. His first number 1 was the syrupy Puppy Love. David Cassidy, from TV show The Partridge Family, was more rebellious and had aspersions to be a credible pop star. How Can I Be Sure is OK, I guess. Elsewhere in the pop world, The New Seekers version of the famous Coke jingle is obviously very sappy, but I have to confess to a soft spot for I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony). In the fair-to-middling category are Don McLean’s ode to Vincent Van Gogh and Rod Stewart’s You Wear It Well. There’s some baffling ones too, one of which is genuinely wonderful (Lieutenant Pigeon’s Mouldy Old Dough) and the other is probably the weirdest, possibly of all time (the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards’ Amazing Grace). Then there’s the ‘dreck’ category, containing Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Clair, Chuck Berry’s My Ding-a-Ling and… well, you can probably guess.

The Best:

T Rex – Metal Guru

I’d rank this third best of the four Bolan chart-toppers, but Hot Love and Get It On are two of the finest of the decade. Metal Guru is still great, from the ecstatic ‘Woah, yeah!’ at the start to the ‘yeah, yeah yeah’ at the fade. The lyrics are as usual, weird and silly, but the tune is infectious and would later be pinched by Johnny Marr to great effect for The Smiths’ Sheila Take a Bow. With this, T Rex become the second act after The Beatles to get my pick for best number 1 two years in a row (Hello, Goodbye and Hey Jude), and deservedly so.

The Worst:

Little Jimmy Osmond with The Mike Curb Congregation – Long Haired Lover from Liverpool

This was my pick of worst Christmas number 1s of the 70s and it’s so deserving. Genuinely offensive to the ears. A screeching, godawful racket, with nothing to say in its favour. Perhaps the decade’s nadir – no offence, Jimmy. Seems like a nice guy.

1973

We’re entering the peak of the glam era now, and what a storming start we have. A double-bill of 1973 highlights with The Sweet’s Block Buster!, followed by Slade’s Cum On Feel the Noize. The latter had an incredible year, notching up three chart-toppers, two of which are undeniable classics. Later in the year there’s the Wizzard song that’s for life not just for Christmas (See My Baby Jive), and a pretty enjoyable tribute to the 50s (Angel Fingers (A Teen Ballad)). Unfortunately Gary Glitter inevitably rears his ugly head, but all credit to his producer and songwriter Mike Leander, not the paedophile, because I can’t deny that I’m the Leader of the Gang (I Am!) and to a lesser extent I Love You Love Me Love would still be fondly remembered were it not for the obvious. The Chinnichap hit making team were scoring hits left, right and centre, and as well as The Sweet, there was the first of two bestsellers for Suzi Quatro with the rocking Can the Can. Osmond and Cassidy are back once more and the former’s two number 1s are not quite as sickly as Puppy Love from the year previous. His last solo entry, Young Love, was the first cover of a former number 1 – Tab Hunter was responsible in 1957. Cassidy’s double A-side is a strange mixed-bag. Daydreamer is a soppy melancholy middling track, and then he covers a Nilsson song. But The Puppy Song is just a novelty track, really. Second of two number 1s concerning dogs too, if you count Gilbert O’Sullivan’s Get Down. 10cc’s first of three chart-toppers this year got a pretty good review from me originally, but Rubber Bullets really stood out for me this time around. The weirdest track this year has to be the Simon Park Orchestra’s Eye Level (Theme from the Thames TV Series ‘Van Der Talk’), but I’ve always enjoyed it!

The Best:

Slade – Merry Xmaƨ Everybody: Despite this being my pick for greatest Christmas number 1 of all time, I wasn’t sure this would be my pick for 1973, purely because, well, there’s only one month a year you should be listening to this really, whereas their other classic, Cum On Feel the Noize, is also brilliant, underrated, and can be enjoyed anytime. However, in the end, it had to be Slade’s sixth and final chart-topper really, because ‘IT’S CHHHHRRRIIIISSSSSTTTMMMAAASSSS’ is still electrifying, even on the 430,000,000th listen.

The Worst:

Dawn (Featuring Tony Orlando) – Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree

This is actually more enjoyable then Knock Three Times, and I don’t hate it (against my better judgement), but the 1973 selection of number 1s is particularly impressive, so this rather sticks out like a sore thumb.

1974

The tail end of the glam years sees it become a little too retro. That’s no bad thing when it comes to Mud’s Tiger Feet, which is one of the most joyous songs of the decade, quite frankly. But although their Christmas number 1 Lonely This Christmas is one of my favourite Christmas-themed chart-toppers, it’s obviously an Elvis pastiche and isn’t a patch on Merry Xmaƨ Everybody. Alvin Stardust makes his one and only appearance here, but Jealous Mind is weirdly disjointed and only got where it did because of the previous success of the superior My Coo Ca Choo. Suzi Quatro’s second and last, Devil Gate Drive, is better, but not quite as good as Can the Can. Gary Glitter’s third and last, Always Yours, proves that Leander was the talent – this track is totally forgettable without his songwriting and production. Is Sugar Baby Love glam rock? I’m not sure, but The Rubettes liked to dress up and it’s certainly indebted to the 50s – that falsetto is glorious and has grown on me. Another sign pop was looking backwards now is the return of the death disc. Last seen back in the 60s, we’ve two in a row here – Paper Lace’s Billy – Don’t Be a Hero (middling) and Terry Jack’s Seasons in the Sun (better). Lots of pop, by some big names too. We’ve the debut of ABBA with Waterloo, The New Seekers’ endearingly bawdy sounding You Won’t Find Another Fool Like Me, David Essex’s Gonna Make You a Star and The Osmonds’ Love Me for a Reason, which is much better than Donny’s chart-toppers. All these are decent. Charles Aznavour’s She and John Denver’s Annie’s Song don’t do much for me, though. Some nice soul and reggae tracks courtesy of The Three Degrees (When Will I See You Again) and Barry White (You’re the First, the Last, My Everything). Less good is Sweet Sensation’s Sad Sweet Dreamer. Ken Boothe flies the reggae flag proudly with the lovely Everything I Own. And as for novelty one-hit wonders, well it doesn’t get much better than Carl Douglas’s Kung Fu Fighting, surely?

The Best:

George McCrae – Rock Your Baby

It’s genuinely difficult to pick between this and Tiger Feet. But Rock Your Baby is one of my favourite disco tracks of all time and was one of the first of its kind, so McCrae wins for advancing music rather than looking back like Mud. There’s lots of other reasons Rock Your Baby is so great, of course. That cute, primitive drum machine at the start, the slinky groove from members of KC and the Sunshine Band, but most of all, a gorgeous, angelic vocal from McCrae, who ended up singing this by accident. And what an accident, because it’s something I’ll never tire of. If anything, my love and appreciation for this grows every time I hear it.

The Worst:

Ray Stevens – The Streak

Truly horrific novelty country pop, cashing in on the very 70s phenomenon of streaking. There’s many reasons to hate this. That high-pitched noise at every chorus. The ‘boogadie-boogadie’ backing vocals. The fact it’s not funny in the slightest. Bloody awful.

1975

This year is all over the place with styles and quality. On the rock front glam is dying out and you could argue Mud’s lacklustre cover of Buddy Holly’s Oh Boy is the last one. Were Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel glam? I’m not so sure but if you think so, then Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) is a bona fide classic and one of the year’s highlights. Queen weren’t glam but there’s certainly some similarities, and obviously Bohemian Rhapsody is one of the most famous number 1s (on two occasions) of all time. Overfamiliarity has perhaps spoiled it for me over the years, but hearing it in the context of the rest of the year, I love it once more. Classic rock started the year off, actually – Status Quo’s one and only chart-topper Down Down is a prime example of how good they can sound – in small doses. The intro to Pilot’s January is excellent, but it settles down into straightforward pop – but it’s growing on me. But special mention on the rock front has to go to 10cc’s I’m Not in Love. Like Bohemian Rhapsody, it pushes the envelope, which doesn’t happen often in the mid-70s. Unlike Bohemian Rhapsody, it’s under appreciated, and gets better with age. Absolutely brilliant and the best ‘new’ number 1 of 1975. What’s happening on the pop front? Well, Roller-mania was in full force with Bay City Rollers cropping up twice. And to be fair, both Bye Bye Baby and Give a Little Love are acceptable teen pop anthems. On the soul front, The Tymes M/s Grace and The Stylistics’ Can’t Give You Anything (But My Love) are nothing special. Elsewhere, there’s some big names once more. Essex’s second and last number 1, Hold Me Close, is a bit too chirpy and it’s a shame Rock On didn’t hold pole position. Tammy Wynette’s Stand By Your Man, originally a 60s hit, doesn’t do a lot for me and I can see why it’s somewhat controversial lyrically, especially in 2022. And it’s the 70s, so of course there’s some weird one-hit-wonders too. Telly Savalas’s spoken-word cover of If is bizarre but interesting. Windsor Davies and Don Estelle’s cover of Whispering Grass is strangely touching! Typically Tropical’s Barbados is politically incorrect and crap, but the Vengaboys would also have a number 1 over 20 years later with a very similar song about Ibiza.

The Best:

David Bowie – Space Oddity

Genuinely torn about rewarding another best number 1 to a 60s hit, and considered giving 1975 to 10cc. But… it’s David Bowie! And not only is it Bowie, it’s one of his best, and the one that started his path to stardom. Had Bowie never had another hit, he’d still be remembered for this classic tale about the alienation of Major Tom as he drifts off into space. It’s majestic, haunting and totally amazing. It’s frankly criminal that this should be Bowie’s only chart-topper in what was an amazing decade for him, but it’s better than none at all.

The Worst:

Billy Connolly – D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

Ye gads this is bad. Maybe it would help if I loved Connolly as a comic, I’m not sure. But it’s aged awfully. A reworking of a Wynette song that isn’t anywhere near as funny as the Big Yin seems to think it is.

1976

There’s a pretty big decline in quality on the whole. ABBA made a big return, enjoying three number 1s. One amazing, one OK, one poor. Big clue here – Mamma Mia is OK, Fernando isn’t. There’s somewhat of a Europop feeling to proceedings. As well as ABBA, there’s Brotherhood of Man’s sappy Eurovision winner, Save Your Kisses for Me, Dutch group Pussycat’s painful Mississippi and Greek warbler Demis Roussos’s Excerpts from ‘The Roussos Phenomenon (EP). The latter is at least of note for being the first ever EP to top the charts, and I have a soft spot for Forever and Ever. But three more inferior songs by Roussos kills the flow somewhat – it’s not quite the same as listening to The Beatles in their prime. Weirdly, it’s the second song called Forever and Ever at number 1 – and the first came earlier that year. It’s a real curio, featuring not only Midge Are, but a really strange mix of dark Gothic pomp and Rollers-style teen pop. What legends do we have this year? There’s The Four Seasons with the memorable December 1963 (Oh, What a Night), a deceptively sweet song about losing your virginity to a prostitute. And there’s also Elton John’s first stint at the top with Kiki Dee. Don’t Go Breaking My Heart is a still-charming bit of disco. In fact, disco is easily the highlight of the year, represented pretty well by this and The Real Thing’s You to Me Are Everything – one of the year’s highlights. Tina Charles’s I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves to Dance) isn’t quite as impressive. Which leaves a mixed bag. You’ve one of the best novelty hits of the decade with The Wurzels’ The Combine Harvester (Brand New Key). Ridiculous but hilariously addictive. Then the year ends with some odds and sods. Chicago’s If You Leave Me Now starts off strong but melts into mush. Showaddywaddy’s Under the Moon of Love is a rather fun slice of tail-end glam. And 50s crooner Johnny Mathis brings a stately end to proceedings with When a Child is Born (Soleado). But in general, a rot has set in, and things need shaking up.

The Best:

ABBA – Dancing Queen

One of the greatest pop songs of the decade. Dancing Queen would come out top in an average year easily. In a year like 1976, it wipes the floor with the competition. And I’m not exactly the world’s biggest ABBA fan. Writing this blog has made me more appreciative of them though, especially when you compare them to what else was happening – particularly at this point. Sublime bliss.

The Worst:

J.J. Barrie – No Charge

It takes an especially bad song to rank lower than Pussycat’s Mississippi, but this is absolutely fucking terrible. It’s so bad it makes me angry. It’s so bad it could bring me to tears. It’s so bad. So, so, so bad. I can’t… words can’t describe how bad this is. It’s really bad. Bad.

1977

As we know, the Queen’s jubilee year and the rise of punk saw an inevitable culture clash, resulting in perhaps the most controversial number 1 ever. Yes, upon researching, I can’t help but strongly suspect that the music industry really did pretend that the Sex Pistols’ God Save the Queen only made it to number two, to prevent embarrassment during the celebrations of the monarch that summer. A real shame because it would have ranked as one of the most exciting parts of another generally lacklustre year. Although it was better than 1976. And thankfully the ramifications did shake the charts up in due course, as we’ll see. The other biggest chart news of the year was certainly the death of Elvis Presley. So dominant in the 50s and 60s charts, his 17th number 1 (equalling The Beatles) Way Down showed that even ‘The King’ couldn’t resist the disco bandwagon. But there weren’t many other disco chart-toppers that year. Baccara’s Yes Sir, I Can Boogie was a fun slice of Euro-sleaze, though. Elsewhere it was mainly pop and soul. And David Soul, the Starsky & Hutch TV star had two average chart-toppers, Don’t Give Up on Us and Silver Lady. Julie Covington’s rendition of Don’t Cry for Me Argentina brought a song from a musicals to the pinnacle of the charts for the first time in ages, but it’s too stately for me to enjoy. Leo Sayer’s When I Need You is a decent power ballad. On the novelty front, The Manhattan Transfer’s Chanson d’Amour is deeply irritating, whereas The Floaters’ Float On is pretty cool. ABBA are back with another two great tracks – Knowing Me, Knowing You and The Name of the Game display their growing maturity very well. Deniece Williams’ tender soul song Free is underrated – but make sure you listen to the album version. Despite my annoyance over the Sex Pistols controversy, at least Rod Stewarts’ double-bill First Cut Is the Deepest/I Don’t Want to Talk About It are two of his better number 1 tracks and complement each other well. Country giant Kenny Rogers had his first chart-topper with the OK track Lucille. We’ve then got the number 1 debut of one of the biggest stars of the next decade, as The Jacksons’ had their only number 1 with Show You the Way to Go. The Jackson 5 had better singles, but this is lovely too. And then at the end of the year, another music legend made a triumphant return. Paul McCartney became the second former-Beatle to get to number 1 when Wings broke the record for the biggest-selling UK single of all time, which it kept for years. But not many know that the record doesn’t just go to Mull of Kintyre, but to Girls’ School too, as it was a double A-side.

The Best:

Donna Summer – I Feel Love

Head and shoulders above most of the rest of the decade. Disco diva Summer’s collaboration with Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte was created with the intention of sounding like music of the future. They most likely didn’t realise just how prescient this turned out to be. Transcendent, pioneering, immortal. A number 1 I could listen to on a loop forever.

The Worst:

Brotherhood of Man – Angelo

I was genuinely disgusted that the song I ranked best of 1977 was knocked from the top by this. This is the 70s at its worst. A corny, light entertainment rip-off of ABBA’s Fernando, which I wasn’t too keen on either, but at least it was ABBA’s own song! This attempted rewrite shows a distinct lack of imagination and shows the team behind Brotherhood of Man up as total opportunists. Eugh.

1978

Things picked up a gear as the decade drew to a close. Punk was already on its way out but new wave rose in its wake, with The Boomtown Rats’ Rat Trap the first chart-topper of the genre. Better were to come, but it’s a good start Many more followed in 1979. However, the biggest success story of the year was definitely Grease. John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John enjoyed a whopping 16 weeks at the top in total with You’re the One That I Want (nine) and Summer Nights (seven). I like both – but I’m fully aware that, had I been a teen back then, I’d have been so relieved when Bob Geldof ripped up a picture of the actors on Top of the Pops. The other main winners of the year were Boney M, with two disco-light number 1s. I’ve never been a fan of Frank Farian’s tacky productions, and time hasn’t made me warm to Rivers of Babylon or Mary’s Boy Child/Oh My Lord any more. Far better on the disco front was the Bee Gees triumphant return to the top spot with one of my favourite tracks from the Saturday Night Fever, soundtrack (Travolta was everywhere). Stayin’ Alive was the album’s true classic, but this does nicely. And the other? Well blow me down if it isn’t Rod the Mod. Stewart was understandably accused of jumping on the disco bandwagon with Da ‘Ya’ Think I’m Sexy?, and yes, he looks ridiculous and the video is silly, but I like the song, so there. The year got off to an excellent start with some proper reggae by Althea & Donna with Uptown Top Ranking. In September 10cc spoofed the genre with the ill-advised Dreadlock Holiday. Not a patch on I’m Not in Love, but the tune is infectious as we all know. ABBA bow out of the decade on the number 1 front with the catchy-as-hell Take a Chance on Me. After a few mature singles, this brought the fun back big time. What’s left? Brotherhood of Man nervously poke their heads round the corner after the godawful Angelo, but they can rest easy because I actually find Figaro amusing rather than reprehensible. It gives great bass, and they’re not ripping off ABBA for a change. The Commodores make their only appearance in the summer, and while Lionel Richie wrote some great songs for them and his solo career, I find Three Times a Lady a little too sentimental. Brian and Michael’s Matchstalk Men & Matchstalk Cats & Dogs (Lowry’s Song) is an average novelty number 1, with touching lyrics about LS Lowry, but a bit too ‘Eee ba gum’ at the same time.

The Best:

Kate Bush – Wuthering Heights

The first ever number 1 by a UK woman, Wuthering Heights introduced the world to one of our most unique songwriting talents. Few number 1s had ever had such an original premise, despite its theme being totally unoriginal. I don’t know how many record buyers had even read Wuthering Heights, but it didn’t matter, because Bush embodies the ghostly Cathy of the novel so well, the longing pierces you, the chorus is mammoth, the piano is beautiful, and the guitar solo is heroic. I think ‘Ooh, let me have it/let me grab your soul away’ captures the way not only Cathy feels, but how anyone totally lost in love feels, and the resolution in ‘It’s me, Cathy’ is beautiful. Wise beyond her years.

The Worst:

Boney M – Mary’s Boy Child/Oh My Lord

I know many people still love Boney M, but I’ve never liked them. Done right, disco is life-affirming, entrancing and fantastic. Farian’s productions suck the life out of the genre, scream the word ‘fake’ and make me feel like I’m in a supermarket full of zombies on a rainy Sunday. If ever there was a time of year you’d think I’d be able to forgive them for that, it would be Christmas. But no, despite happily listening to all kinds of Christmas songs by artists I’d normally not touch with a bargepole, this cover of Harry Belafonte’s 1957 festive chart-topper is putrid.

1979

Wow. Not since the mid-60s has a year had such a strong showing of exciting, fascinating, invigorating number 1s. The seeds sown by punk finally bear fruit properly, and how. New wave runs rampant, with hit after hit. Ian Dury and The Blockheads’ Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick, Blondie’s Heart of Glass and Sunday Girl, Tubeway Army’s Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, Gary Numan’s Cars, The Boomtown Rats’ I Don’t Like Mondays, The Police’s Message in a Bottle and Walking on the Moon, The Buggles’ Video Killed the Radio Star… five of those are tremendous and could easily have been my pick for the year I was born. And the great thing about new wave is, it straddles many other genres at the same time. Disco remained strong this year, getting it off to a fun start with the Village People’s Y.M.C.A.. The Bee Gees are back again but in such a strong year, Tragedy kind of gets lost in the crowd. Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive is a classic to most but overkill has ruined its impact over the years. I prefer Anita Ward’s saucy Ring My Bell, personally. And I’ve always had a soft spot for Dr Hook’s When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman. The decade came to a close with that most unlikely disco group – prog rock titans Pink Floyd. Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) is far from the most festive Christmas number 1 of all time, but a song that set the scene for the Thatcher era that was just beginning. Is Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick disco? Or is it funk? It kind of defies description, so let’s just go with new wave. What I do know is, it’s amazing. On the legends front, Art Garfunkel’s hauntingly poignant Bright Eyes is a favourite of mine – and not just because it was the top of the pops when I was born. And good God, Cliff Richard is back – and even he puts up a good showing, with We Don’t Talk Anymore! Blondie’s form of new wave branches off into several genres, particularly with their first and best number 1 – Heart of Glass. Their second, Sunday Girl, is a pleasant enough pop ditty, but again, it’s up against some true greats. Gary Numan has always been adored by his ‘Numanoids’ but to the general public he’s often derided as a David Bowie and Kraftwerk impersonator. There’s no denying the influence of either on him, but that shouldn’t take away from the brilliance of his two singles here. Tubeway Army’s Are ‘Friends’ Electric? is my favourite of the two (just), because it sounds totally alien to previous number 1s – so strange, yet so catchy, and pointing the way to the 80s and beyond. Cars is great too, obviously. The Boomtown Rats’ second number 1, I Don’t Like Mondays, is much better known than Rat Trap, and although it’s perhaps a bit on the earnest side, I’ve always liked it. This blog has alerted me to how good some of The Police’s chart-toppers were. Message in a Bottle is better than I remember, blending reggae, punk and pop, but the dub-based majesty of Walking on the Moon is even better. Which leaves one more to mention here, and it’s wholly appropriate to bring a close to proceedings with Video Killed the Radio Star, a classic pop track that, like Numan, showed what was around the corner. There was plenty of intelligent, shiny, cool pop still to come in the 80s.

The Best:

Blondie – Heart of Glass

The New York five-piece will never know, or give the remotest shit, that they won out in 1979, but it’s a hell of a feat if you ask me, so strong was the competition. In the end, it was between this, Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick and Are ‘Friends’ Electric?. All three pushed the envelope of pop, crossed boundaries and still managed to capture the imagination of the public, for vastly different reasons. I went with this stone-cold classic because… it’s just so damn impressive that a punk-pop group from New York were able to make a disco-electro tune that proves they understood and loved dance music as much as rock. Of course, Debbie Harry is one of the greatest lead singers ever, so cool, strong, intelligent and sexy. Her performance in Heart of Glass is perfect. And it contains the word ‘ass’. What more could you want in a number 1?

The Worst:

Lena Martell – One Day at a Time

I just cannot understand how got through the net in 1979. This is the only number 1 song I dislike in the whole year. I’m not sure that’s happened before or will happen again. It’s certainly not the worst of the 70s though, and wouldn’t get singled out half as much had it appeared earlier in the decade. But bad timing, Martell. It’s so dated and dull.

The Best 70s Number 1 Ever is…

Donna Summer – I Feel Love

In an often disappointing decade, I Feel Love reigns supreme. It’s the blueprint for the future of music. Propelled by Moroder’s amazing, retro-yet-innovative production, Summer’s vocal is a soaring, sexy thing of beauty. Like previous decade winners Great Balls of Fire and She Loves You, it’s unique, yet in tune with the times, revolutionary, yet never forgets that it’s ultimately, a pop song. And if these three songs don’t prove that pop is so much more than just a three-minute tune to tap your feet to, please tell me why.

The Worst 70s Number 1 Ever is…

JJ Barrie – No Charge

No bloody wonder, more like. There were lots of painful chart-toppers in the 70s, as we’ve seen, but none elicited such anger and bile in me as this. It’s that awful over-sincere spoken word country twang, with the wailing of the backing singer, combined with the mawkish lyric. Hopefully, I’ll never have to suffer this ever again now.

The Outro

From soaring highs to awful troughs, the number 1s of the 70s are a very mixed bag. What surprised me was how, for me, the quality doesn’t suffer as soon as The Beatles split. Despite a noticeable void, there’s lots of great rock and pop in the early 70s. And then of course, T Rex usher in glam, and there’s lots of good, even great, glam songs here. Disco is the other main genre that pops up time and again throughout the decade. Again, the quality varies greatly, but at its best it takes pop forward and transcends a lot of mediocre material around at the same time. And then new wave is definitely the end of the decade’s best success story, having a massive impact and setting the scene for the 80s.

ABBA impressed me more than I expected, and from reviewing what else was around, particularly in 1976, I can see now why they’re so highly regarded. But they also sum up some of the decade’s weakest points – the MOR pop, cheesy and disposable. Although, you can’t blame ABBA for Brotherhood of Man, for instance.

It’s also worth noting that my favourite number 1s of 1970 and 1975 are actually from 1968 and 1969 respectively. It was a fascinating, brilliant, infuriating g decade for chart-toppers, all in all.

Blogs on every 70s number 1 are available to view via the Archive section.

379. Art Garfunkel – I Only Have Eyes for You (1975)

The Info

Paul Simon was the brains behind Simon & Garfunkel’s impressive catalogue of folk and pop, including 1970 number 1 Bridge over Troubled Water. He continued to have success after they split, but it was Art Garfunkel who scored not one but two solo number 1s.

Before

You can find a profile of the duo in the blog I linked to above, but I’ll briefly touch on Garfunkel’s early years here.

Arthur Ira Garfunkel was born 5 November 1941 in New York City. He was of Romanian Jewish descent. His love of singing began in first grade, and he would often sing in synagogue. His father later bought him a wire recorder and he would spend his afternoons singing, recording, and playing it back to listen for flaws and learn how to improve. Such was his obsession, he performed for four hours at his bar mitzvah in 1954.

It was in sixth grade that Garfunkel first crossed paths with Simon, in a production of Alice in Wonderland, and Simon apparently first became interested in singing after hearing Garfunkel in a school talent show.

Between 1956 and 1962 they recorded together as Tom & Jerry, but Garfunkel released his first solo record, Beat Love, in 1959, under the name Artie Garr. When he and Simon graduated, he went to Columbia University, becoming heavily involved in sports and a capella group the Columbia Kingsmen.

Simon & Garfunkel reformed in 1963, and the rest is history, and in my blog. But it’s also worth noting that although Simon wrote everything, Garfunkel did get involved in the production side. He also wrote the Canticle in Scarborough Fair/Canticle, would work out how the material would be sung, and was credited with the arrangement on The Boxer.

After the break-up in 1970, Garfunkel avoided music for three years. He starred in two Mike Nichols films – Catch-22 (1970) and Carnal Knowledge (1971). He then spent 1971 to 1972 teaching geometry in Connecticut. But following a greatest hits album and a one-off reunion with Simon at a benefit concert for presidential candidate George McGovern, he decided to go solo.

Garfunkel’s debut solo LP, Angel Clare, was released in 1973. Co-produced by the singer and Simon & Garfunkel producer Roy Halee, it featured covers of material by Van Morrison, Jimmy Webb and Randy Newman. Simon contributed guitar on one track, and it also featured Jerry Garcia and JJ Cale on guitars, plus members of The Wrecking Crew including Hal Blaine. A single from it, Webb’s All I Know, was a big hit in the US, reaching nine.

I Only Have Eyes for You was the first material to be lifted from Garfunkel’s forthcoming second album Breakaway. Another album of mostly contemporary covers, this single was unusual in that the song dated further back. It was written by multi-Oscar winner Harry Warren and lyricist Al Dubin for the 1934 musical movie Dames. The most famous version came from influential doo-wop group The Flamingos in 1959.

Review

You can’t really go wrong combining as beautiful a song as this with the always-lovely singing of Garfunkel. And with a lush production from Richard Perry (who produced Without You), it’s a song you can wrap yourself in like a warm blanket. Having said that, it might not be to everyone’s taste. Some may find it overdone and too schmaltzy, and if so, they’d likely prefer the version by The Flamingos. I’ve got room in my heart for both though.

The Outro

This version seems to be mostly forgotten in 2020 – indeed, until now I had assumed Garfunkel had only scored a number 1 with Bright Eyes. Perhaps because The Flamingos song has such a reputation for being a classic. But this is worth your time, especially if you like Simon & Garfunkel.

The Info

Written by

Al Dubin & Harry Warren

Producer

Richard Perry

Weeks at number 1

2 (25 October-7 November)

Trivia

Births

27 October: Novelist Zadie Smith

Deaths

27 October: Royal Air Force officer Frederick Charles Victor Laws

Meanwhile…

30 October: West Yorkshire Police launch a murder investigation when 28-year-old prostitute Wilma McCann is found dead in Chapeltown, Leeds. 

6 November: A pub rock group called Bazooka Joe performed at Saint Martins College. Their support band were performing for the first time. They were called Sex Pistols.

339. David Cassidy – Daydreamer/The Puppy Song (1973)

The Intro

David Cassidy continued his existential battle to be loved for his music rather than his looks throughout 1972 and 1973. After his first number 1 How Can I Be Sure, the star of The Partridge Family had further hits with the title track to Rock Me Baby and I Am a Clown, which was lifted from his debut LP Cherish.

There were also more albums by The Partridge Family, Cassidy’s fictional TV brethren, on which he had made his name and would have rather been rid of by this point. In October 1973 their final album, Bulletin Board was released, alongside Cassidy’s third solo effort, Dreams are Nuthin’ More than Wishes. To get the point across that he was in charge of his own music, he wrote notes for his reasons for choosing each song. This second number 1 release was a double A-side of tracks from the album.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKukFhUQPLQ

Reviews

Daydreamer was written by South African professional songwriter Terry Dempsey, who had written for many big names including Cliff Richard and The New Seekers. In 2910, Dempsey was killed in a bizarre accident when he was struck by the blades of a gyrocscope making an emergency landing during a ceremony in which the family were scattering ashes.

Cassidy stars as a heartbroken loner, walking round in the rain, chasing rainbows in which he may find someone new. Nice, clever wordplay there. It’s reminiscent of 1956 Christmas number 1 Just Walkin’ in the Rain by Johnnie Ray, not just due to the obvious mention of rain, but in the sense there’s a melancholy that’s quite comforting at play, that he’s actually kind of happy being on his own and wallowing in misery.

Unfortunately, as with How Can I Be Sure, I can’t enjoy Cassidy’s voice. For someone so determined to be admired for his ability, his singing is so affected, it doesn’t do a lot for me. Once again though, I’d take this over any of Donny Osmond’s number 1s.

The Puppy Song was penned by Harry Nilsson of Without You fame, and had featured on his album Harry, released in 1969. He had written it on request from Paul McCartney for Mary Hopkin’s debut album Post Card, which also included her number 1 from 1968, Those Were the Days.

More light-hearted than the flip side, the two songs complement each other well, with Cassidy’s daydreams moving on to thoughts of owning a dog, to replace the hole left by his love. The second verse comes from the viewpoint of a puppy daydreaming about having a friend to hang around with it. It’s a very ‘Nilsson’ kind of song, with a music-hall feel like a lot of his late-60s work, and an interesting departure for a teen idol, but again, I couldn’t warm to it too much. However, I do like the opening lines, which were paraphrased and became the title of Cassidy’s album.

After

Cassidy remained a familiar presence in the UK charts over the next few years, with hits like If I Didn’t Care and a cover of The Beatles’ Please Please Me in 1974. However, that same year, he was performing at London’s White City Stadium when nearly 800 people were injured in a crush at the front of the stage. 30 fans were taken to hospital, and 14-year-old Bernadette Whelan died four days after her injuries. Cassidy was devastated.

In 1975, Cassidy was free of The Partridge Family, and was the first person to have a hit with I Write the Songs, later to be Barry Manilow’s signature tune. But the follow-up, Darlin’ was his final top 20 entry for 10 years. In 1978 he was nominated for an Emmy Award for a role in Police Story, and he starred in David Cassidy: Man Undercover in 1979 but it was cancelled after one season.

The early-80s saw Cassidy performing in musical theatre, including Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat and Blood Brothers. He returned to the charts in 1985 with The Last Kiss. It featured backing vocals from George Michael. Another teen idol with ambitions to be recognised for his ability over his looks, Michael cited Cassidy as an influence, and the duo no doubt had much in common. It was his last UK single of note though, despite occasional chart action in the US.

Cassidy struggled over the years with his public image, and claimed the death of Whelan would haunt him all his life. He was arrested several times in later years for drink-driving incidents. Former Page 3 model Samantha Fox claimed on a 2017 Channel 4 documentary that he sexually assaulted her in 1985.

The Outro

In 2008 he went public with his alcohol problem. Then in February 2017 he struggled to remember lyrics while performing, and fell off the stage. Despite assumptions he had been drinking, Cassidy announced he had Alzheimer’s and retired soon after. That November Cassidy was hospitalised with liver and kidney failure. He was induced into a coma, and although he came out of it, doctors failed to find him a liver transplant in time, and he died of liver failure on 21 November, aged 67. It was revealed after he died that he hadn’t had Alzheimer’s.

The Info

Written by

Daydreamer: Terry Dempsey/The Puppy Song: Harry Nilsson

Producer

Rick Jarrard

Weeks at number 1

3 (27 October-16 November)

Trivia

Deaths

10 November: BBC Controller Gerald Cock

Meanwhile…

31 Octobe: The sixth series of much-loved BBC One sitcom Dad’s Army opened with the episode ‘The Deadly Attachment’. It’s the one featuring the line ‘Don’t tell them, Pike!’

8 November: The second Cod War between Britain and Iceland came to an end.

12 November: Miners began an overtime ban, while ambulance drivers started selective strikes.
Also this day, long-running BBC One sitcom Last of the Summer Wine began its first series run, following a premiere in the Comedy Playhouse on 4 January. Roy Clarke’s whimsical comedy set in rural Yorkshire would run for 31 series spanning 37 years.

14 November: Eight members of the Provisional IRA were convicted of the March bombings in London.
Also, The Princess Royal married Captain Mark Phillips at Westminster Abbey.

312. The Pipes and Drums and the Military Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards (Carabiniers & Greys) Bandmaster W.O.I.CI. Herbert. Pipe Major W.O.II. J. Pryde – Amazing Grace (1972)

The Intro

There are many baffling number 1s scattered through the years of the singles chart. This must be one of the biggest mysteries. Not only did The Pipes and Drums and the Military Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards topple Without You from number 1 with their instrumental cover of the Christian hymn Amazing Grace – it became the biggest seller of 1972.

Before

One of the oldest known songs to reach the top spot, Amazing Grace dates back to 1772, when the words were first written by English poet and clergyman John Newton. He grew up a wayward soul, narrowly avoiding death several times and each time hoping to repent and become closer to God, before reverting to his old ways. He was pressed into the Royal Navy, but would take advantage of chances to overstay his leave, and he deserted to visit a lover. Because of this, he was traded as crew to a slave ship, and began a career in slave trading. How very unholy. Newton had a taste of his own medicine however. After falling out with crew members and writing obscene poems about the ship’s captain, he would be chained up like the slaves on the ship.

In 1748, the ship Greyhound was hit by a terrible storm and nearly capsized. Newton, who had been reading religious texts beforehand, exclaimed ‘Lord have mercy upon us!’. When the Greyhound was finally safe, Newton pondered if, indeed, God had saved them. Not that this was enough to convert him instantly – Newton married his lover, but remained in the slave trade for a while.

In 1756 the Newtons were living in Liverpool, and he became obsessed with religion. Eight years later Newton was offered the curacy of the small village of Olney in Buckinghamshire. He befriended a gifted writer, William Cowper, and became interested in writing hymns. The duo decided to present a new poem or hymn at each weekly prayer meeting. Newton wrote the lyrics in late 1772 and they were likely first read on New Year’s Day 1773. A collection of their work, Olney Hymns, was bound and published anonymously in 1779. ‘1 Chronicles 17:16–17, Faith’s Review and Expectation’ was the name of the hymn that began with ‘Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound)’.

Olney Hymns became very popular in Britain with evangelicals, although Amazing Grace wasn’t among the ones widely used. It was in the early-19th-century religious revival of communal singing in the US that it caught on. Nobody knows what, if any, music the hymn was set to initially, but the first known instance had it set to the tune Hephzibah by English composer John Husband in 1808. There were 20 differing versions until 1835 when American composer William Walker assigned Newton’s words to the song New Britain. His tunebook Southern Harmony, published in 1847, was a huge seller, and this became the definitive Amazing Grace, of which there are over a thousand recorded versions, including this one.

The first known recorded version was an a cappella performance by the Sacred Harp Choir in 1922. It was US gospel singer Mahalia Jackson’s 1947 recording that revived Amazing Grace in the 20th century and turned it into, ironically, a song used by African Americans to express their joy at being delivered from slavery. From there it became ever more popular for political reasons during the civil rights movement and opposition to the Vietnam War.

Folk singer Judy Collins (strangely credited for the song on the original vinyl by the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards) witnessed the song’s power on a civil rights march in 1964 and began performing it regularly. She recorded it a cappella for her 1970 album Whales & Nightingales and claimed it helped her through her alcohol dependency. It became a big hit, reaching number five in the UK.

And somehow this song that was used as a means of protest against war made its way to the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards. This cavalry regiment of the British Army was formed on 2 July at Holyrood, Edinburgh. Some time after, the pipes and drums recorded an LP, arranged by Stuart Fairbarn, based on Collins’ version. According to a 1972 article by The New York Times, late-night DJs picked this track from the album The Amazing Sound of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards and it grew in popularity, which must surely have come as a surprise even at the time.

Review

Clearly, there must have been a love for bagpipes in the UK in the 70s, as this number 1 can’t help but bring to mind the fact that Mull of Kintyre, five years later, became one of the biggest-sellers of all time. Why was this? I can find no point of reference upon investigation. This wasn’t the theme for a TV show or film, for example. I wonder if, in the light of The Troubles, the English felt closer to the Scottish? Was the news of all the violence in Northern Ireland making people turn to Scottish culture? Quite possibly – but if so, how do you explain the fact it also went to number 1 in Australia, Canada, New Zealand and South Africa?

Personally speaking, I’m ok with bagpipes, which can be somewhat divisive. I like the droning quality they bring to music. My favourite use is when they appear unexpectedly on Parliament’s beautiful cover of Ruth Copeland’s The Silent Boatman. And who doesn’t love Amazing Grace? Difficult song to get wrong, and it’s tastefully done, with Pipe Major Tony Crease’s solo mirroring Collins’ voice. But after two listens, I’m no clearer to understanding just how this became the year’s biggest single.

After

Despite its huge success in 1972, the Pipe Major at the time was summoned to Edinburgh Castle for a telling off for demeaning the bagpipes. As the money rolled in, there must have been a softening of the rules as, The Royal Scots Dragoon Guards have released many albums since, including a remake of this song.

The Outro

The irony of reading how a song by a slave trader became so important to black people as the Black Lives Matter movement rages on around me hasn’t escaped me. I wonder if this song will soon be #cancelled along with the statues of racists, or whether it will escape the understandable anger due to its ubiquitous use in the black community.

The Info

Written by

Traditional

Producer

Pete Kerr

Weeks at number 1

5 (15 April-19 May) *BEST-SELLING SINGLE OF THE YEAR*

Trivia

Births

16 April: Motorcycle racer John McGuinness
17 April: Racewalker Vicky Lupton
22 April:
Actress Sarah Patterson
2 May: Footballer Paul Adcock
3 May: Broadcast journalist Katya Adler
5 May: Olympic rower James Cracknell

Deaths

11 May: Poet EV Rieu

Meanwhile…

19 April: Lord Chief Justice Lord Widgery exonerated the British troops who opened fire on Bloody Sunday of blame, saying the demonstration had been illegal.

30 April: The Brighton Belle Pullman car train made its final journey from London to Brighton.

3 May: In the first ever UEFA Cup final, Tottenham Hotspur beat Wolverhampton Wanderers 2-1 in the first leg at the Molineux in Wolverhampton.

6 May: Leeds United won the FA Cup for first time, defeating 1971 winners Arsenal 1-0 at Wembley Stadium.

8 May: Derby County won the Football League’s First Division title for the first time.

12 May: The Crown Court, established by the Courts Act 1971, replaced the Assize and Quarter Sessions in England and Wales. Also this day, property qualifications requiring jurors to be householders were abolished.  

17 May: Spurs completed a 3-2 aggregate win over Wolverhampton Wanderers at White Hart Lane to win the first UEFA Cup.

18 May: Queen Elizabeth II met her ill uncle, Edward, Duke of Windsor for the last time, at his Paris home.

311. Nilsson – Without You (1972)

The Intro

One of the earliest, finest power ballads, reaching number 1 in the 70s and 90s, Without You is a tune surrounded by tragedy. This version, by maverick singer-songwriter Nilsson, is the best.

Before

Harry Edward Nilsson III, born in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn on 15 June 1941, came from a family of circus performers on his father’s side, who were known for their aerial ballet. His father walked out on the family when he was only three – which had a profound effect on Nilsson, becoming the subject matter of his songs 1941 and Daddy’s Song.

He grew up with his mother and younger half-sister. They were so poor, he took on a number of jobs from a young age, including a job at the Paramount Theatre in Los Angeles. Nilsson grew more and more interested in music, and it was his mechanic uncle that helped him on the way to becoming such a great singer. He formed an Everly Brothers-style duo with a friend. When the Paramount closed in 1960, he lied his way into a job working for a bank on their new computer system.

In 1962, Nilsson also got a job singing the demos of budding songwriter Scott Turner. He’d also started writing tunes himself, and in 1963 he co-wrote for Little Richard. Reportedly, upon hearing Nilsson sing, he exclaimed ‘My! You sing good for a white boy!’ the following year, he wrote three songs with Phil Spector.

Thanks to publisher Perry Botkin Jr, who invested his life savings into getting Nilsson the means to record four songs for Tower Records (a subsidiary of Capitol). This material was compiled into his debut album, Spotlight on Nilsson, released in 1966. That same year, he signed with RCA Victor and recorded Pandemonium Shadow Show (1967). This LP really showcased the potential of his voice and ability to cover other artists as well as his own material. His cover of The Beatles’ You Can’t Do That, in which he quoted 17 other songs by the Fab Four, caught the attention of their press officer Derek Taylor. Thanks to a major label behind him, and his songwriting duties for hot acts like The Monkees, Nilsson finally quit the bank.

Nilsson’s career went from strength to strength over the next few years critically and then commercially. His cover of Fred Neil’s Everybody’s Talkin’ first featured on 1968 album Aerial Ballet, before becoming a deserved hit a year later thanks to its inclusion in the film Midnight Cowboy. At the press conference in which The Beatles announced the formation of Apple Corp, John Lennon was asked the name of his favourite American singer, and Paul McCartney was asked his favourite American group. Both replied ‘Harry Nilsson’. Aerial Ballet also contained his original version of the melancholy One, later covered by Three Dog Night.

In 1970, Nilsson had become aware of a then-little-known songwriter called Randy Newman. He was so impressed, he made a whole album of his material, Nilsson Sings Newman, which helped get Newman recognised despite selling poorly. The following year Nilsson travelled to the UK to record Nilsson Schmilsson, his most famous work, which featured Without You by Badfinger.

The sad story of Badfinger is a cautionary tale of the pitfalls of the mercenary music business. One of the first signings to Apple Records, with the help of The Beatles they scored several hits. Without You, written by band members Pete Ham and Tom Evans. Their version had featured on 1970 album No Dice. It’s a decent stab, but a little unsure of itself, like a demo when compared to the covers that were to come, but then, Ham and Evans hadn’t realised the potential it had.

It had originally been two separate songs. Ham had written one called If It’s Love. He thought one of the verses had potential.

‘Well I can’t forget tomorrow
When I think of all my sorrow
I had you there but then I let you go
And now it’s only fair that I should let you know… if it’s love’

Meanwhile, Evans had a chorus for a song called I Can’t Live, which fitted well with Ham’s song. Combined, they finished Without You.

Recorded in London’s Trident Studios, Nilsson was backed by Apple alumni and Beatles collaborators. The man behind the haunting, plaintive piano was Gary Wright, who had appeared on George Harrison’s My Sweet Lord, Klaus Voorman of Plastic Ono Band took up bass, leading session drummer Jim Keltner was on drums and John Uribe played acoustic guitar. Strings and horns were arranged by Paul Buckmaster.

Review

Although this sounds timeless now, nobody was producing power ballads quite like this in 1972, and although as a genre I’m more likely to laugh at them than truly appreciate them, Without You is a classic. You could argue these days that Nilsson is in effect using emotional blackmail to get his love to stay, but to argue that, you’d be ignoring such an impressively bleak, tortured performance. He sounds so tender at the start, his voice almost feminine as he remembers how she left him. It’s still an awe-inspiring performance, the way his voice shifts halfway through that first chorus. He’s a broken man, and by the final chorus… you just know that Nilsson knows how it feels to be so bereft. This is the difference between his version and Mariah Carey’s number 1 in 1994. Yes, she hits all the notes and it’s technically great, but hard to believe in. It’s also a great production by Perry, classy, and not too overblown. Unlike many power ballads, it’s succinct. It doesn’t outstay its welcome.

After

Nilsson quickly followed up his hit album with Son of Schmilsson, but he had begun to ignore Perry’s advice and lost fans with the use of swearing in his songs. He did however write another UK number 1 – David Cassidy topped the charts with his cover of The Puppy Song in 1973.

Nilsson was going through a divorce at the time, which made him the perfect drinking companion for Lennon, separated from Yoko Ono and in the midst of his ‘lost weekend’ with May Pang. They became close friends, raising hell and gaining the wrong kind of press for incidents like being thrown out of a Smothers Brothers show. They managed to get it together enough to make an uneven album together, Pussy Cats in 1974, featuring a killer cover of Many Rivers to Cross.

Three years later, Nilsson readied what he considered his best work Knnillssonn. RCA agreed and promised a big promo campaign, but the death of Elvis Presley threw a spanner in the works. However they did release a greatest hits without his permission, so he left the label.

In 1978, Nilsson, along with the world, was shocked to discover The Who’s Keith Moon was found dead in the London flat he rented out. This in itself was terrible news, but the fact that Cass Elliott of The Mamas & the Papas had died in the very same room in 1974, was too much to take. He sold the flat to Pete Townshend and spent all his time in LA from then on.

Nilsson’s output grew more sporadic as the 80s began. His soundtrack for Robert Altman’s Popeye (1980) did as well as the disappointing film, and he was left reeling from the murder of his friend Lennon in December. Nilsson never toured or performed at big concerts, but the death caused him to make more public appearances to give his opinions on gun control in the US. In the mid-80s he returned to the studio, becoming mainly involved in writing music for film and TV through his new production company Hawkeye. Sadly, the project floundered and it was discovered his financial adviser had embezzled Nilsson of all his earnings. He was left close to bankruptcy, while she served less than two years in prison.

Nilsson was born with congenital heart problems, and when he suffered a heart attack in 1993, he knew the writing was on the wall. Years of heavy boozing and smoking will also have taken its toll. He pressed RCA to release a box set of his work, and tried to make one last album, but had only recorded vocal tracks when he died of heart failure on 15 January 1994, aged only 52. The album was finally released in November 2019 as Losst and Founnd. A gifted singer and songwriter, who did things the way he wanted (and one could argue he created the first remix album with 1971’s Aerial Pandemonium Ballet) Nilsson is remembered fondly.

The Outro

One of the most famous stories attached to Without You is of course the horrible fate of both its songwriters. Following Nilsson’s cover, the future looked bright for Ham and Evans, who were awarded the 1972 Ivor Novello Award for Best Song Musically and Lyrically. However, it was to be their last hit. When Apple folded in 1973, the group became mired in legal disputes thanks to manager Stan Polley. They were left in limbo and without money coming in, and Ham was showing signs of mental illness. On 23 April 1975, Ham’s body was found hanging in his garage studio, with a suicide note that ended ‘P.S. Stan Polley is a soulless bastard’.

After this tragedy, Evans and guitarist Joey Molland spent years trying in vain to recapture Badfinger’s magic, often amid blazing rows. The money issues only got worse, and Evans then became caught up in royalty rows with Molland, drummer Mike Gibbins and their first manager Bill Collins. Following a particularly nasty argument between Molland and Evans, the songwriter’s body was found at his home on 19 November 1983. He too had hung himself.

If you like your cover versions twisted and harrowing, and if any song deserves that, it’s this one, I’d suggest cult singer-songwriter Bobby Conn’s from 2000, which you can enjoy here.

The Info

Written by

Pete Ham & Tom Evans

Producer

Richard Perry

Weeks at number 1

5 (11 March-14 April)

Trivia

Births

20 March: Franz Ferdinand singer Alexander Kapranos
28 March: Actor Nick Frost

Deaths

13 March: Photographer Tony Ray-Jones
21 March:Violinist David McCallum Sr
29 March: Film producer J Arthur Rank

Meanwhile…

21 March: Chancellor Anthony Barber announced a £1,200,000,000 tax reduction in the Budget.

26 March: The UK’s last trolleybus system, in Bradford, was closed.

30 March: The Parliament of Northern Ireland was suspended.

31 March: A large CND demonstration was held protesting against the nuclear base at Aldermaston.

1 April : William Whitelaw was appointed as the first Northern Ireland Secretary.

6 April: Motoring giant Ford launched new flagship saloon model, the Granada, which replaced the Zephyr, to be produced in Dagenham.

11 April: BBC Radio 4 launched long-running parodic panel show I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue. The ‘antidote to panel games’ still entertains to this day.