As far as retrochart radio shows go I’ve long since thought that Gold Music’s From The Bottom To The Top show far outdoes dreary Dale’s Pick Of The Pops. For a start it plays everything in its given week’s Top 20 and not simply the most obvious and tedious “picks” from the chart, thereby providing a fuller and far more satisfying (not to mention much more educational) picture of what was going on in the chart at any particular time. In addition it plays a fair selection of “bubbling under” tracks; when the show visits the sixties with its necessarily shorter hits, this frequently means that the whole Top 40, or at the very least the bulk of it, gets played. For someone like my wife, who grew up in California and then in Toronto and thus didn’t hear much or, in some cases, any of this music at the time, it’s a real education.
Finally, there is always a studio guest who was present in the chart under discussion. I suppose that promotional commitments mean that the show doesn’t have to stick to the “this week in…” format and is therefore free to wander all over the place if it so wishes. This gives the show a freshness which stands in stark contrast to the nullified dullness of Dale. One recent outstanding example was when Martin Fry came in to talk about ABC and go through the singles chart week ending 12 June 1982 (in which ABC were at number four with “The Look Of Love”) – for once, the Gold jingle “Playing the greatest hits of all time” was more than justified since this is one of the greatest ever singles charts.
This week’s guest was Billy Ocean, coming in not to talk about his more prominent (and in my view less impressive) eighties smashes, but the chart of 20 March 1976, in which he was at number three with his debut hit, the smashing “Love Really Hurts Without You.” But, I hear you cry, the song peaked at number two – why not play that chart? Well, as I think will become apparent, this decision may have been taken for aesthetic reasons but apart from a really “meh” patch quite high up this is a hugely impressive list and there’s only one real stinker.
If you want to hear the show itself you can do so by going here (for the next seven days) but for the first time on any of my blogs I’m going to wave the whitish flag and post some YouTube links on here to go with each entry! Whoopee! Here in MC Email Land I regularly receive plaintive pleas from exasperated readers asking me to link my posts with the relevant music but I must admit that I’m very much of the old “let the writing do the talking and the convincing” school of wrinkled music writers and normally assume that any interested parties will hasten to YouTube/Spotify/wherever without my needing to prompt them. Nevertheless in some contexts it does work well and in this case I thought: why not? Spring is here, it’s nearly Easter and the sun’s doing its best to shine! I’m not promising that this will be a regular weekly feature – but if it proves popular enough then I’ll keep it going for as long as energy and interest allow.
So, without further ado, here is the Top 20, in Fluff Freeman-style reverse order, as it stood just over 33 (but not quite thirty-three and a third) years ago…
20. Squeeze Box – The Who
One of the rare examples of good humour from the extremely downbeat and self-aware The Who By Numbers album, with the band really relaxing and letting the ineluctable Cajun/music hall thrust of the song roll over them like a bonnie blue Brighton blanket. Is Roger doing a little Freddie Mercury pastiche halfway through (“Come on and squeeeeeeeeeeze meeeeeeeee!”)?
19. I Love Music – The O’Jays
The O’Jays were surprisingly intermittent visitors to our charts – no “992 Arguments” or “For The Love Of Money” for a start – but “I Love Music” charted twice, in ’76 and again (as a 12-inch) in ’78, and really there are few more joyous songs about the love and power of music as thing in itself and as instrument of personal change and enhancement. John Miles was shortly to bleat pretentiously about music being his first and last love but the O’Jays did it with so much more swing and elegance and far less ostensible fuss.
18. Miss You Nights – Cliff Richard
The return of a voice from the wilderness – his first UK hit single in 18 months and one of his absolute masterpieces; a stillness in its patient mourning which, as Lena said, points instantly and logically to Joy Division. “I’m a man…and cold daylight buys the pride I’d rather sell.” A brilliant feat of organisation by producer Bruce Welch, incorporating Andrew Powell’s majestic but never overwhelming string arrangement, Tony Rivers’ astonishing vocal harmony arrangement – at the song’s icy climax, Cliff is accompanied by Rivers and the Castaways alone – and, above all, Cliff’s own careful, desolated reading of Dave Townsend’s stark words and music, “Miss You Nights” marks the beginning of Cliff’s New Pop golden age which lasted well into 1981.
17. Yesterday – The Beatles
Went very well following Cliff, we thought; earlier thoughts on emotionally immobile mourning, released as a domestic 45 for the first time to spearhead a mass promotional Beatles single reissue programme, marking the point where Beatlemania strangely began to stir and look feasible again. As though paving the way for more radical changes shortly to come.
16. Rain – Status Quo
Ah, bless them. They’ll never change (except very slowly and subtly over several decades) and why should they? A relatively rare Rick Parfitt lead vocal, a Wyatt-esque pronunciation of “rain” throughout and it rocks as reliably as they have ever done.
15. Dat – Pluto Shervington
One of two entries in this list (see also #2 below) which required the publication of an explanatory glossary in Record Mirror; this was the heartwarming tale of devout Rasta Pluto at the market, covertly trying to purchase some pork. Reassuringly hardcore by ’76 reggae-pop crossover standards.
14. Rodrigo’s Guitar Concerto D’Aranjuez – Manuel and his Music of the Mountains
The shortest lived of all number one singles; Johnnie Walker announced it as such on his Tuesday lunchtime show on Radio 1, but it then transpired that the British Market Research Bureau had accidentally missed out an entire day’s worth of sales from their computations. Whoops! By six o’clock that evening the Four Seasons had won back the top slot, Tina Charles was placed second and the hapless, pseudonymous Geoff Love had been demoted to bronze medal position.
I’ve still no idea what or who prompted the success of this interpretation of the most famous bit of music Rodrigo ever composed but don’t mind it at all – Miles and Gil it isn’t but Love’s arrangement is subtle enough to acknowledge the debt that Morricone owed to Rodrigo (among many others), both as composer and arranger. Also you can’t help but respect someone who was able to produce lush touristy string n’ castanet soundtracks (as Manuel) and hard-hitting Afro-funk (as Mandingo) and yet still carry out the day job as Max Bygraves’ musical director (AND do all those scrupulous Great Movie Themes-type albums on which many of us relied in those days).
13. Funky Weekend – The Stylistics
Surprisingly thrusting late hit for the most famous Philly group never actually to have recorded for Philadelphia International – OK, then, argue it out with the (Detroit) Spinners or even the Delfonics – with Van McCoy in his percussive/productive element. They had two Best Of compilations at number one in the album chart over this period and I’m really looking forward to assessing both (in the fullness of time – Then Play Long’s been going nearly eight months and I still haven’t got to the Beatles yet!).
12. Falling Apart At The Seams – Marmalade
Their first UK hit in nearly four years, and also their last. Not many of the original crew left by this time – Junior Campbell and Dean Ford both having long left – but it’s serviceable enough, if not startling, Brit AoR-pop.
11. (Do The) Spanish Hustle – The Fatback Band
I think young Trevor Nelson must have been spending his pocket money this week. It was a real pleasure to hear this great disco-funk track again – full album length at that, fellow cratediggers! – and to be reminded that while in Britain the Fatbacks are best known and loved for eighties perma-dancefloor smash “I Found Lovin’” they were a solidly adroit seventies funk band who at various times (including this one) boasted Mingus alumni George Adams and Don Pullen in their line-up. Terrific trumpet solo by George Williams.
10. It Should Have Been Me – Yvonne Fair
Back in 1962 she was one of James Brown’s backing singers on Live At The Apollo; thereafter she wandered in and out of Motown but never really got the big break she clearly merited. “It Should Have Been Me” was and is a shocking dynamo of a Deep Soul performance which threatens to drown its post-“Rock Your Baby” setting entirely. Sadly Yvonne died in 1994 aged just 51 but this remains an astonishing reminder of just how much more she and her talent deserved.
9. December ’63 (Oh What A Night) – The Four Seasons
No, I hadn’t quite worked out what this song was actually about at that time, either (see also “Squeeze Box” above). But after fourteen years of dutiful chart service they were certainly long overdue a UK number one hit, and even though Frankie Valli doesn’t have very much to do on this one the record’s fundamental good nature sees it through.
8. I Wanna Stay With You – Gallagher and Lyle
Benny and Graham have mostly made their pile writing for and producing others but through ’76-7 enjoyed a brief spell of success as performers. A fine and cleverly constructed piece of AoR-pop with a deceptive mellowness.
7. People Like You And People Like Me – The Glitter Band
Their final hit, and a rather muted end to what wasn’t a bad run of hits; these days more noted for its hello-Rare-Groove-didn’t-expect-to-see-you-here B-side “Makes You Blind.”
6. You See The Trouble With Me – Barry White
The Walrus’ second biggest UK hit after “You’re The First, The Last, My Everything” and eventually a number one in a very strange bootleg karaoke version put out under the Euroname of Black Legend; utterly charming, rhythmically always catching out (there’s rarely a straight 4/4 here) and Barry bewailing loneliness and frustration in an openhearted and approachable way that many of Our Indie Kids Today would do well to match.
5. You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me – Guys ‘N’ Dolls
Not Dusty, but it doesn’t really pretend to be; Dominic Grant shares his Scott Walker-ish co-lead vocal with Julie Forsyth (daughter of Bruce) and there’s a hint of the Dollar revolution to come both in the weirdly echoed harmonies and the vaguely cavernous musical arrangement (not to mention young Trevor himself plucking away on session bass). Certainly not the pitcher’s mound of genius that “There’s A Whole Lot Of Loving” was, though.
4. Save Your Kisses For Me – The Brotherhood of Man
Now it becomes clear; if Gold had played the chart where Sir William was in second place, they would have had to close the show with this, since it soared to number one the following week, stayed there for six agonising weeks and became 1976’s biggest selling single in the UK. If only one reason for the Sex Pistols were needed…
3. Love Really Hurts Without You – Billy Ocean
What a fine debut hit, after years of trying with faithful co-conspirator Ben Findon (and when’s HE going to get his dues?); clearly a Northern Soul/Motown pastiche but done with such verve, panache and obvious enjoyment (that amazing string section unison line/riff) that it’s impossible to resist.
2. Convoy – CW McCall
Is this 1967 come late or the early stirrings of punk or indeed Gen X? Make no mistake, this is a punk record to its chartreuse microbus bootstraps, advocating total anarchy, rolling over the Bears’ feeble defences as assuredly as McGoohan, McKern and Kanner (and Muscat) in their particular truck. Nothing’s going to stop this “trucking” convoy and everything’s going to change for the better. Obama would have been fourteen going on fifteen. Amazing that this hit at all in the UK but I’m more than glad that it did, especially since it means that my wife will get to write about it on her blog!
1. I Love To Love (But My Baby Loves To Dance) – Tina Charles
And finally…well, revolutions come in the places you least expect them, don’t they? Tina Charles and Trevor Horn were an item at this time; they were sharing a flat in Streatham, hoping for greater things, while Trevor was playing bass in her touring band and learning the production ropes from Biddu (and John Howard, and sometimes Tony Meehan) in the studio. Note the relatively sparse but deeply-pitched bass playing on “I Love To Love” before fast-forwarding to “Close (To The Edit)” and all that, but as with so much else in this largely excellent list, pointing the way towards New Pop and the eruptions of greater “WHOOOOO!!!”s that would eventually make their way towards the surface and into our hearts.