Every 50s Number 2

The Intro

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

1952/53

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

The Best

Nat ‘King’ Cole – Pretend

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

The Worst

Diana Decker – Poppa Piccolino

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

1954

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

David Whitfield with Stanley Black and His Orchestra – Santo Natale

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

1955

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

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

1956

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

The Best

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst

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

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

1957

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

Russ Hamilton – We Will Make Love

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

1958

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

The Best

Elvis Presley with The Jordanaires – Hard-Headed Woman

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

The Worst

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

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

1959

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

The Best

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

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

The Worst

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

The Best 50s Number 2 Ever is…

Elvis Presley – Hound Dog

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

The Worst 50s Number 2 Ever is…

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

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

The Outro

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

332. 10c.c. – Rubber Bullets (1973)

Whether it was a satire on The Troubles or just an affectionate throwback to Jailhouse Rock, Rubber Bullets introduced us to Mancunian band 10cc, four songwriters who specialised in witty, ironic pop and rock. But the story of ‘The Worst Band In the World’ starts years earlier.

Kevin Godley, Lol Creme and Graham Gouldman knew each other as children, and their first collaboration dates back to 1964, when Gouldman’s band The Whirlwinds recorded Creme’s Baby Not Like You as a B-side. This band evolved into The Mockingbirds, whose drummer was Kevin Godley.

In the summer of love of 1967, Godley and Creme recorded a one-off single as The Yellow Bellow Boom Room. Thanks to Gouldman, the duo were then signed to Marmalade Records, who hoped Godley and Creme may be the UK’s answer to Simon & Garfunkel. They recorded material as Frabjoy and Runcible Spoon, with Gouldman on bass and a guitarist called Eric Stewart.

Stewart had been lead guitarist and singer with The Mindbenders, whose biggest hit was A Groovy Kind of Love, which stalled at number two in 1966. Gouldman was briefly in the group before they disbanded in 1968. That year, Stewart became involved with Inner City Studios in Stockport. It was subsequently moved to bigger premises, and renamed Strawberry Studios, after Strawberry Fields Forever. Stewart became the co-owner.

In 1969 Gouldman, who had previously written hits including For Your Love for The Yardbirds, was in demand as a songwriter. He took up residence at Strawberry Studios and by the end of the year he was also a partner. He was writing bubblegum pop songs for Super K Productions, and would often use Stewart, Godley and Creme to perform them. All four were singers and multi-instrumentalists, and they made so many records under so many aliases, they lost count. They would even sometimes perform what were meant to be female backing vocals.

While Gouldman was working in New York, the other three had their first real success together. As Hotlegs, their single Neanderthal Man reached number two in the UK in 1970 and was a worldwide hit. It was soon followed by the 1971 album Think: School Stinks. Meanwhile, all four continued to write and perform for other bands, and after helping Neil Sedaka on two albums, they were finally spurred on to try and make a name for themselves. They became Festival, but their first single failed and Apple Records rejected their second.

Undeterred, they recorded a spoof doo-wop song, Donna. They contacted eccentric and later disgraced mogul Jonathan King, who loved it and signed them to his label UK Records. He takes claim for dubbing them 10cc after a dream in which he saw ’10cc The Best Band in the World’ on the front of the Hammersmith Odeon, but the most common explanation, confirmed by Creme and Gouldman, is that it was an above average volume of semen produced in a male ejaculation. Seedy, whichever is true.

Radio 1 DJ Tony Blackburn loved Donna, and made it his Record of the Week. It soared to number two in October 1972. However, follow-up Johnny Don’t Do It didn’t even make the Top 40. Fortunately, Rubber Bullets, went all the way. Recorded as part of their eponymous debut LP, this track is another wry throwback to 50s rock’n’roll, a sound all four musicians were very fond of returning to.

10cc have always claimed Rubber Bullets was a sequel-of-sorts to Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock, told from the point of view of the authorities, intent on putting a halt to the celebrations at the local county jail. This may well be the case (and there’s also a touch of the Beach Boys, particularly in Creme’s lead vocal), but it’s impossible to not consider its connection to The Troubles, which had rarely been out of the news in 1972-73. The use of rubber bullets saw a massive increase in this period. Despite being designed to bounce off the ground and strike at about knee level, children were killed by this ammunition. 10cc were obviously clever songwriters. Godley and Creme were responsible for the majority of this track and may well have had the chorus first and perhaps decided to make it less controversial by introducing all the Americanisms. Gouldman should also get a mention for his line ‘we’ve all got balls and brains, but some’s got balls and chains’, although that was edited out of the single version.

Not only were 10cc very smart, they were also very good at coming up with great pop songs, with years of experience between all four of them, there was no lack of expertise on hand, and Rubber Bullets was as catchy as it was clever, with a blistering guitar solo from Stewart, achieved with studio trickery. And yet, for all that’s commendable about this song (it’s apparent sympathies lie with the victims of the bullets), I can admire it rather than enjoy it, and I know I’m not the first person to say this about 10cc’s work. But their second number 1 in 1975 is another matter entirely. It’s one of the best of the 70s.

Written by: Lol Creme, Kevin Godley & Graham Gouldman

Producers: 10cc

Weeks at number 1: 1 (23-29 June)

Births:

Conservative MP Tom Tugendhat – 27 June

Meanwhile…

23 June: A Hull house fire kills a six-year-old boy. It was initially thought to be an accident but it later emerged as the first of 26 fire deaths caused over the next seven years by arsonist Peter Dinsdale. One of Britain’s most prolific serial killers, Dinsdale was imprisoned for life in 1981.

297. Mungo Jerry – Baby Jump (1971)

Everyone knows In the Summertime by jug band Mungo Jerry, but who remembers this follow-up? The raucous, rowdy Baby Jump must be one of the least-known number 1 singles of all time, and marked the end of ‘Mungo-mania’.

After the huge impact of In the Summertime in the UK, their debut single began to climb the US charts, so Mungo Jerry headed over in September 1970. Upon their return, double bassist Mike Cole was sacked and replaced by John Godfrey. They hadn’t been in a rush to immediately release a second single, preferring to let In the Summertime soak up as many sales as possible.

The band decided to rework a track that was popular at their live shows, and singer-songwriter Ray Dorset came up with some new lyrics too. They recorded Baby Jump at their label Pye’s 16-track studio, but weren’t happy with the results, deciding it needed to sound more lo-fi, so they returned to the studio where they had made In the Summertime, and Barry Murray was back in charge of production. Deciding the single was too short, they chose to repeat the trick of their first single, and Murray created a fake ending, with the song starting up from the start again.

Baby Jump is a real curio. If you didn’t know it, you’d think it was a different band. Perhaps even an early Tom Waits number. The light touch of their debut is replaced by raw rocking noise and Dorset adopts a growling, shouting voice. The track sounds like it’s been dropped in a muddy pool of water and left for a day or two. This might make it sound exciting, and for the first minute or so, Baby Jump is just that. But it soon outstays its welcome and you’re left wanting them to wrap it up – which makes that false ending all the more annoying.

The lyrics are problematic too. Those freewheeling, likeable but misogynistic lads of In the Summertime go full-throttle on the lust levels. Dorset has the horn for a girl in a micro-mini dress and black stockings, and he promises ‘You bet your life I’ll attack’. He goes on to compare him and his dream love to Lady Chatterley and her gamekeeper, Mona Lisa and Da Vinci, and worryingly, Humbert and Lolita. Which of course, suggests the girl he wants is underage. So, nine years before The Police namechecked Lolita author Vladimir Nabokov in 1980’s best-selling single, Don’t Stand So Close to Me, Mungo Jerry got there first. But at least Sting was conflicted about his situation.

Baby Jump made Mungo Jerry the first British act since Gerry and the Pacemakers to have two number 1s with their first two singles, but there seems to be some confusion about whether it even did really make it to number 1, as there was a national postal strike at the time, which affected chart data. They nearly equalled Gerry and co’s feat of three in a row with Lady Rose, but a controversial B-side, Have a Whiff on Me, meant the single was withdrawn.

Mungo Jerry’s momentum never really recovered, and in 1972 Dorset was summoned to a band meeting and Colin Earl and Paul King told him they wanted him gone. Bit rich, considering Dorset did most of the work, so the management fired them instead. They went on to form The King Earl Boogie Band.

From here on in, the line-up would change over and over, but Dorset remained, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned, is Mungo Jerry. He even used the name on solo material. There were a few more hits in the 70s, including Alright, Alright, Alright and You Don’t Have to Be in the Army to Fight the War. His last top 20 single was the catchy Long Legged Woman Dressed in Black in 1974.

However, Dorset would pen another number 1. He was the man behind Kelly Marie’s excellent tacky disco smash Feels Like I’m in Love in 1980. Originally he’d written it with Elvis Presley in mind – I would have loved to have heard that.

Three years later, Dorset joined former Fleetwood Mac guitarist and acid casualty Peter Green and Vincent Crane from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown in the group Katmandu, who released one album, A Case for the Blues, in 1985. Occasional Mungo Jerry albums have appeared since, the last being 100% Live in Baden Baden in 2018.

Written by: Ray Dorset

Producer: Barry Murray

Weeks at number 1: 2 (6-19 March)

Births:

Actress Rachel Weisz – 7 March

Deaths:

Harpsichordist Thurston Dart – 6 March
Poet Stevie Smith – 7 March

Meanwhile…

7 March: After recent protests in London, 10,000 striking workers protested in Glasgow against the Industrial Relations Bill.

8 March: The postal workers’ strike ended after 47 days.

294. Dave Edmunds – I Hear You Knocking (1970)

As 1970 drew to a close, November’s number 1s seemed to symbolically bid farewell to the 60s. So, what next? Glam was around the corner, but in the meantime, the Christmas number 1 looked back to pop’s past, as Welsh singer-songwriter spent six weeks at the top with a cover of a 50s R’n’B tune.

David William Edwards was born in Cardiff on 15 April 1944. Musically gifted as a child on the piano, at the age of 10 he formed The Edmund Bros Duo with his elder brother Geoff. They both formed The Stompers around 1957, with Dave on lead guitar and Geoff on rhythm. From there the younger Edmunds had brief stints in several groups before becoming lead singer of rockabilly trio The Raiders, who formed in 1961.

In 1966 Edmunds, following a brief spell in The Image, shifted to a blues-rock sound and formed a short-lived outfit called Human Beans, who mutated into the trio Love Sculpture. Their second single, a novelty high-speed reworking of Sabre Dance, which climbed to number five after getting the attention of DJ John Peel. After two albums Love Sculpture split in 1970.

Edmunds returned to Wales and learned how to recreate the sounds of the R’n’B and blues songs of the 50s by himself, and made plans to record a cover of blues classic Let’s Work Together by Wilbert Harrison, until he heard Canned Heat’s version. Around this time he worked with Shakin’ Stevens and the Sunsets, helping the 80s hitmaker score his first recording contract.

Fortunately, Edmunds heard Smiley Lewis’s I Hear You Knocking while driving, and noted he could use the backing track he’d already recorded for Let’s Work Together and make a cover of Lewis’s song. It was also a track he knew from Shakin’ Stevens and the Sunsets’ repertoire.

The original, written by New Orleans bandleader Dave Bartholomew (who had co-written the 1959 Elvis Presley number 1 One Night) and released by Lewis in 1955, is a straightforward slice of piano-driven 50s R’n’B, but Edmunds went full on blues-rock. He played every part on his version, using heavy compression to create an unusual, direct sound.

Edmunds’ I Hear You Knocking is a quirky choice for Christmas number 1, but of course, being at the top of the charts on 25 December wasn’t an ‘event’ back then. The weird production is attention-grabbing to begin with. Most unusual of all is the vocal track, which sounds like it’s being sung down a bad phone line, or is coming out of a damaged transistor radio. I’m not sure if Edmunds was aiming for a dated 50s sound, but if so, it doesn’t quite come out like that. It gets a bit annoying after a while, whatever the intention.

The chorus is memorable, and the slide guitar is effective, and I enjoy Edmunds’ shouting out ‘Smiley Lewis!’ and other rock’n’roll star names from the 50s in the instrumental break. I can see why listeners would have enjoyed a bit of basic blues-rock for a while. Not sure how it stayed at number 1 for six weeks, though.

Despite the success of I Hear You Knocking, it took Edmunds two years to release his debut album, Rockpile, which was mostly a collection of more oldies. He had left it too late to capitalise. Or maybe he wasn’t bothered about doing so anyway. He spent the next few years producing rock and blues acts like Brinsley Schwarz, Foghat and The Flamin’ Groovies. However, his two singles Baby I Love You and Born to Be With You reached the top 10 in 1973.

In 1974 Edmunds had a brief role in the David Essex film Stardust, and helped with the soundtrack. A year later came his second solo LP, Subtle as a Flying Mallet. Then his friendship with Nick Lowe from Brinsley Schwarz resulted in their new group Rockpile. Due to being on different labels they were unable to record until 1980 but would guest on each other’s solo material for the next few years.

In 1979 Edmunds scored his last top 10 hit with Girls Talk, written by Elvis Costello. Rockpile only recorded one album, 1980’s Seconds of Pleasure, before splitting up due to arguments between Edmunds and Lowe. Edmunds went back to mainly producing, and worked with big names including Paul McCartney, Status Quo, Stray Cats, The Everly Brothers and kd Lang. He had a US hit with Slipping Away in 1983 though, written and produced by ELO’s Jeff Lynne.

Edmunds went into semi-retirement in the mid-80s, but he did tour with Ringo Starr & His All-Star Band in 1992 and 2000. After a couple of albums released online, he began touring in his own right again in 2007. Edmunds performed I Hear You Knocking on Jools’ Annual Hootenanny in 2008 and then Sabre Dance in 2009. His last album was On Guitar… Dave Edmunds: Rags & Classics in 2015, featuring instrumental covers. After a final show in July 2017, Edmunds retired from music.

1970 was an interesting, eclectic year for number 1s, with several well-remembered chart-toppers. Lots were in thrall to the past, though, with the departure of The Beatles leaving the music world wondering what to do. Fortunately, T. Rex were now on the scene, having scored a number two hit with Ride a White Swan. Marc Bolan would soon have his first number 1.

Written by: Dave Bartholomew

Producer: Dave Edmunds

Weeks at number 1: 6 (28 November 1970-8 January 1971)

Births:

Singer Aled Jones – 29 December 
Welsh rugby union player Louise Rickard – 31 December
Football referee Andre Marriner – 1 January
BBC newsreader Suzanne Virdee – 1 January
TV presenter Jayne Middlemiss – 5 January
TV presenter Joanne Malin – 7 January

Deaths:

Olympic athlete Lillian Board – 26 December (see below)
Composer Cyril Scott – 31 December

Meanwhile…

Boxing Day: Olympian athlete Lillian Board, died in Munich, West Germany, after a three-month battle against cancer. She was 22.

New Year’s Eve 1970: Although Paul McCartney had announced his departure from The Beatles earlier in 1970, it was made official when he filed a lawsuit against the other three on this day to dissolve their partnership.

New Year’s Day 1971: The Divorce Reform Act 1969 came into effect, which allowed couples to divorce after a separation of two years (five if only one agrees). This ruling resulted in a sharp rise in divorces over the next two years.

2 January: The new year got off to a shocking start for football fans when a stairway crush at Ibrox Stadium in Glasgow during a match between Rangers and Celtic killed 66 and left many more injured.

3 January: BBC Open University broadcasts began.

8 January: Uruguayan left-wing urban guerrilla group Tupamaros kidnapped Geoffrey Jackson, the British ambassador to Uruguay, in Montevideo. He was held captive until September.

289. Elvis Presley – The Wonder of You (1970)

The Wonder of You was Elvis Presley’s 16th and final number 1 in his lifetime. In the five years since his last number 1, Crying in the Chapel (which dated back to 1960), the King’s career had reached the doldrums, before a dramatic comeback. Sadly, though, The Wonder of You marked the beginning of another descent – his last one.

Presley proposed to Priscilla Beaulieu at Christmas 1966, seven years after they had first met, and they married in May 1967. Earlier that year he had released the Grammy-winning gospel album How Great Thou Art, but in October his soundtrack LP to his movie Clambake registered record low sales. The Summer of Love had just passed, flower power was everywhere, and Elvis couldn’t have been more out of fashion.

His manager Colonel Tom Parker made a deal for Presley to appear in a Christmas special on TV in December 1968. The singer was initially sceptical, and he had every reason to be, seemingly forever stuck releasing one dire film after another. However, once he got talking to the show’s director and co-producer Steve Binder, he realised this could be the chance to revitalise a failing career. He was proved right. The 68 comeback special, titled simply Elvis, featured lavish numbers, but everyone remembers the back-to-basic segments, in which he performed in tight leather in front of a small crowd (his first live performances since 1961). It was a return to the Elvis of the 50s, raw and fresh, with buckets of charisma. And he looked cool as fuck. No longer would the King be willing to do whatever he was told by Parker

Elvis kickstarted a purple patch in which the King was seemingly let off Parker’s tight rein, and he went on to record some of the best material of his career, particularly during the sessions for the 1969 album From Elvis in Memphis. The album closed with In the Ghetto, which reached number two on these shores, but was held off the top spot by Thunderclap Newman’s Something in the Air. Criminally, Suspicious Minds, probably my favourite Elvis song, also stalled at number two at the start of 1970 here, despite becoming his final US number 1.

Presley was keen to get back to regular live performances, and just when things were looking up for the new decade, Parker booked him to an initial run of 57 shows over four weeks at the new International Hotel in Las Vegas. Bill Belew, who had struck gold by coming up with the King’s leather look for his comeback, designed his first jumpsuit to wear. His initial Vegas show went down a storm, and Parker booked him a five-year run in which Presley would perform every February and August. The Jordannaires chose not to join him, and longtime collaborators guitarist Scotty Moore and drummer DJ Fontana also declined.

The Wonder of You was a live recording from one of his Vegas gigs of February 1970. It was the first live number 1 since Lonnie Donegan’s My Old Man’s a Dustman (Ballad of a Refuse Disposal Officer) in 1960. Thankfully it’s not as bad as that horror show of a song, but they are similar, in that Wonder of You represents the final slide into cabaret for a once vital, dangerous artist.

The song, written by Baker Knight, was originally a top 30 single for US singer Ray Peterson in 1959. It also became a hit for number 1 artists Ronnie Hilton, and The Platters too.

Elvis turns this into an anthem in which he pays tribute to the fans that have stuck by him through thick and thin. It even mentions him by his nickname, albeit inadvertently.
‘And when you smile the world is brighter
You touch my hand and I’m a king
Your kiss to me is worth a fortune
Your love for me is everything’

It’s one big love-in really, a drunken singalong, and the King and crowd alike are all having a whale of a time. But it all feels rather hollow with the knowledge of what was to come. Elvis’s next number 1 came after his death. His Vegas residency had transformed into a bloated drug-addled, depressed, darkly-comic version of the singer here.

Since its time at number 1, The Wonder of You has become associated with football clubs Port Vale, Arsenal and Scottish team Ross County.

Written by: Baker Knight

Weeks at number 1: 6 (1 August-11 September) 

Births:

Footballer Alan Shearer – 13 August
Snooker player Peter Ebdon – 27 August

Deaths:

Footballer Jesse Pennington – 5 September

Meanwhile…

9 August: Police battled with black rioters in Notting Hill, London.

20 August: England may have lost at the World Cup, but there was some good news for team captain Bobby Moore – he was cleared of stealing a bracelet in Colombia just before the tournament had begun.

21 August: The moderate Social Democratic and Labour Party was first established in Northern Ireland. 

26-31 August: The third Isle of Wight Festival took place, with music from Jimi Hendrix, The Who and The Doors. This was the last of the three original festivals there, and was the largest event of its kind for years, with anywhere between 500,000 and 700,000 attending.

9 September: BOAC Flight 775 was hijacked by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine after taking off from Bahrain. This was the first time a British plane had been hijacked.

261. Hugo Montenegro – The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1968)

1968, particularly the first half, had seen some unusual number 1s. As the year drew to a close, things got weird again. Enjoying a full month at the pole position of the singles chart was American orchestra leader and soundtrack composer Hugo Montenegro, with his remake of the theme to Sergio Leone’s 1966 Spaghetti Western The Good, The Bad and the Ugly.

This film was the final part of Leone’s Dollars Trilogy, following A Fistful of Dollars and A Few Dollars More, and starred Clint Eastwood as the Man with No Name once more. Despite initial scepticism from the critics, The Good, The Bad and the Ugly is now considered one of the greatest examples of the genre of all time. I have to confess I haven’t seen any of the trilogy. Westerns aren’t really my bag. But of course, I know the theme to this movie.

As with the other two parts of the trilogy, the score came from Italian composer Ennio Morricone. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (main title) was conducted by Bruno Nicolai. Simply put, it’s one of the most iconic pieces of film music ever, and features at the start of the movie. Largely in part to the theme, Morricone’s soundtrack album was a bestseller. But how did a remake become a number 1 single, two years after the film’s release, and who was Hugo Montenegro?

Montenegro had been born in New York City on 2 September 1925. He served in the US Navy for two years, but was mostly arranging the Newport Naval Base band in Newport, Rhode Island. When World War Two ended he studied composition at Manhattan College.

By the mid-50s he was directing, conducting and arranging orchestras for record labels, and he directed the Glen-Spice Orchestra on the first release by future pop star hearthrob Dion in 1957.

In the early 60s he found work with RCA Victor producing albums of cover versions of themes from films and TV series, including spy themes and westerns, which is what led to his version of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. It might sound quaint now, but these kind of albums were popular for decades. I can remember several in our family well into the 80s, featuring the themes of Superman, Star Wars, all the blockbusters of the time.

Montenegro’s version of Morricone’s classic was very similar to the classic original. It was recorded live in one day and featured, among others, Art Smith on ocarina, Art Morgan on harmonica, Elliot Fisher on electric violin, Manny Klein on piccolo trumpet and Muzzy Marcellino provided the whistling.

Despite the popularity of the soundtrack remake back then, it’s still an odd choice for a number 1 single. Having said that, you can’t deny the brilliance of the original, all that ominous forboding, the danger, the intrigue, wrapped up in a brilliant melody and sounding so unusual.

I realise I stated in my previous blog for With a Little Help from My Friends that if you’re going to make a cover, you need to make it different. And yet I enjoyed this facsimile. There’s very little difference, it’s just been made slightly more pop friendly, with light acoustic guitar and the danger slightly turned down. But it doesn’t sound tacky like many of these remakes used to do (ever heard anything from those Top of the Pops albums of the 70s?).

Montegro was understandably taken aback at the success of this single in the US and the UK. By making it to number 1 here it became the first instrumental to do so since Foot Tapper by The Shadows in 1963. It’s not strictly speaking an instrumental though – in this version, the random shouts you hear are actually members of the band shouting ‘HU-GO-MONT-EN-EGRO!’.

The composer continued to record remakes, and also composed original scores for films, including the Elvis Presley western Charro! in 1969. He’s also achieved a cult audience in recent years due to his albums that featured the Moog synthesiser, with the kitsch retro-space-age sounds proving influential on a new generation of musicians. On TV, he was famous for his TV themes for US sitcoms I Dream of Jeannie and The Partridge Family.

In the late 70s he was forced to put his career on hold due to his battle with severe emphysema. He died of the disease on 6 February 1981.

Written by: Ennio Morricone

Producer: Hugh Montenegro

Weeks at number 1: 4 (13 November-10 December)

Births:

Footballer Barry Hunter – 18 November
Journalist Andrew Gilligan – 22 November

Deaths:

Writer Mervyn Peake – 17 November
Children’s writer – Enid Blyton – 28 November

Meanwhile…

18 November: A warehouse fire on James Watt Street in Glasgow kills 22 office workers in the offices of upholstery factory B Stern Ltd. Only four people in the building managed to escape.

26 November: The Race Relations Act passed, which made it illegal to refuse housing, employment or public services to people in Britain due to their ethnic background.

30 November: The Trade Descriptions Act came into force, bringing an end (officially anyway) to shops and traders describing goods in a misleading way.

227. Tom Jones – Green, Green Grass of Home (1966)

And so, after such a stellar year of chart action, we’re back at the Christmas number 1. For the first time since 1962, it isn’t The Beatles, who were working on Strawberry Fields Forever. Holding court as the top of the pops for the whole month, and most of January, was 1966’s best-selling single – Tom Jones’s cover of Green, Green Grass of Home.

Since his last number 1, the storming It’s Not Unusual in 1965, Jones’s popularity had slipped somewhat. Granted, his theme to What’s New Pussycat?, by Bacharach and David, did well, but his theme to the James Bond movie Thunderball wasn’t so popular. His manager Gordon Mills decided a new approach was needed, and steered Jones towards using that deep voice to become a light entertainment-style crooner.

Green, Green Grass of Home had been written by Claude ‘Curly’ Puttman, Jr, and was first made popular by flamboyant country star Porter Wagoner in 1965. Later that year, controversial rock’n’roller Jerry Lee Lewis recorded a version for his album Country Songs for Country Folks, and it was this version that made Tom Jones decide to give it a crack himself. His producer Peter Sullivan weren’t so sure – country wasn’t what they had in mind for Jones, so Les Reed, who had written It’s Not Unusual, arranged the track and took it in an easy listening direction.

Jones recalled in an interview for The Mail on Sunday in 2011 that Lewis was on a UK tour just before the single’s release, and met with Jones. He was bowled over by this new pop version, and told Jones he had a hit on his hands.

It’s an odd one, really. Green, Green Grass of Home is still considered one of Tom Jones’s best songs, and yet it leaves me rather cold. The arrangement is rather dated now, particularly when compared to the previous number 1, Good Vibrations. I think the Beach Boys classic would have made for a much more appropriate song to round the year off. But there’s no accounting for taste. Which leads me onto my next point.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m against the death penalty, but it’s hard to feel sorry for the singer once you know the twist – that he’s behind bars and reminiscing on his hometown before he is hanged. The likelihood here is that this man has done something terrible. An odd choice for Christmas number 1, all in all. I hate the ‘Mary/cherries’ rhyme as well.

Green, Green Grass of Home is a sign of what happens to the charts in 1967. After all this energy, vigour and innovation, things go somewhat downhill. 1967 was a great year for albums, and I used to think that once we got full-blown into the ‘flower power’ era, there would be some wonderful single number 1s. There’s far fewer than I hoped, and more often than not, the fashion sways back towards MOR.

Also that year, Tom Jones performed in Las Vegas for the first time. Like his friend Elvis Presley in the 1970s, his recording output suffered as his live act grew more flamboyant, and it was here he cultivated the sweaty, open shirt image that would make him a figure of fun over the years. There were still hits from time to time though, such as Delilah in 1968. From 1969 to 1971 he presented his own variety show on ITV called This Is Tom Jones. The year it ended he recorded one of my favourite Jones tracks, She’s a Lady, written by Paul Anka and later used to great effect in Terry Gilliam’s adaptation of Hunter S Thompson’s Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas (1998).

By the mid-70s his career had declined and he tried to get more film and TV work, but by the early 80s he was recording country material that failed to chart. The first of his many comebacks came in 1987 when A Boy From Nowhere made it to number two. Then the following year he teamed up with Art of Noise for a smash-hit cover of Prince’s Kiss. Unfortunately, someone missed the point of the original, and changed the lyrics from ‘Women, not girls rule my world’ to ‘Women and girls rule my world’, which sounds a bit seedy to me.

In 1992 he kickstarted the idea of ‘legends’ appearing at Glastonbury Festival, and had cameos on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and The Simpsons the following year. Also in 1993 he was back in the charts with If I Only Knew. I personally find this track hilarious for its opening, in which Jones’s bellow is used to headache-inducing levels. It’s hard not to enjoy it though. 1996 saw him cameo in Tim Burton’s sci-fi comedy movie Mars Attacks. He rounded off the millennium with Reload, an enormously successful collection of covers featuring the stars of the time.

It was around then I got a bit sick of Tom Jones. That bellow was everywhere, from the dodgy duet It’s Cold Outside with Matthews (which takes on new levels of meaning when you read he allegedly banged her over the mixing desk during the recording) to the especially irritating version of Mama Told Me Not to Come with Stereophonics. The biggest hit, Sex Bomb, with Mousse T, long outstayed its welcome. But the Queen loved him and he was given an OBE that year, before being knighted in 2006.

He’s never really gone away since the success of Reload, and is now a national treasure. There’s one more number 1 with which he’s involved, from 2009, so I’ll return to his story then.

Written by: Curly Putman

Producer: Peter Sullivan

Weeks at number 1: 7 (1 December 1966-18 January 1967) *BEST-SELLING SINGLE OF THE YEAR*

Births:

Footballer Dennis Wise – 16 December
Rugby player Martin Bayfield – 21 December
Rugby league player Martin Offiah – 29 December
Comedian Mark Lamarr – 7 January
Actress Emily Watson – 14 January

Deaths:

Land and water speed record breaker Donald Campbell – 4 January 

Meanwhile…

12 December 1966: Harry Roberts, John Whitney and John Duddy are sentenced to life for killing three policemen in August.

20 December: Prime Minister Harold Wilson and Rhodesian Prime Minister Ian Smith were in the news throughout the month as they attempted to negotiate the whole independence saga. On this day, Wilson withdrew all offers and announced that he will only consider independence when a black majority government is installed in Rhodesia.

22 December: A steadfast Smith announced he already considered the country a republic.

New Year’s Eve: Thieves stole millions of pounds worth of paintings from Dulwich Art Gallery in London.New Year’s Day 1967: The Queen decided to commemorate England’s World Cup achievement by making manager Alf Ramsey a Sir, and also awarded captain Bobby Moore with an OBE.

3 January: Stop-motion children’s TV favourite Trumpton began on BBC One.

4 January: Motorboat racer Donald Campbell was tragically killed while trying to break his own water speed record attempt on Coniston Water in the Lake District. Footage shows his Bluebird K7 and smash into the water. His body wasn’t found until 2001.

7 January: Another classic TV series began on BBC Two – The Forstyte Saga.

15 January: The UK entered the first round of negotiations for European Economic Community Membership.

18 January: The flamboyant Jeremy Thorpe replaced Jo Grimond as leader of the Liberal Party. He was a popular leader and increased the party’s voting stastics, but controversy would end his leadership early.

224. Jim Reeves – Distant Drums (1966)

Autumn 1966 saw the singles chart ruled for five weeks by a man who had died two years previous. American country singer-songwriter Jim Reeves ruled over the charts with Distant Drums in the same surprising way that Ken Dodd had a year previous with Tears. Amid all the amazing, pioneering music coming thick and fast, the charts were suddenly owned by the old folk once more.

‘Gentleman Jim’ had been born in Galloway, Texas on 20 August 1923. Known as Travis during his childhood, he loved to play baseball and spent three years in minor leagues before severing his sciatic nerve. As a sufferer of sciatica myself, I can only imagine this must have been really bloody painful.

Reeves avoided World War Two when he failed his physical exam in 1943, and so he began working as a radio announcer. A fan of popular singers like Frank Sinatra, Jimmie Rodgers and Bing Crosby, he would sometimes sing live in-between songs, and began to see a career in it.

By the early 50s Reeves was doing well in the US charts. Bimbo reached number 1 in the country chart in 1954. His first and only album release for Abbott Records, Jim Reeves Sings, came in November 1955. By that point he had signed a ten-year deal with RCA Victor with Steve Sholes. That same year, Sholes signed Elvis Presley.

Like every other country and western performer of the era, Reeves’ earliest recordings had him adopting a loud, rather cliched Texan style, but over time he developed his trademark style, a smooth, warm and gentle baritone, his lips nearly touching the mic as he crooned. RCA executives thought this was a bad idea, but Reeves was lucky to have producer Chet Atkins on his side. The first example of this new approach, Four Walls, was a commercial hit for Reeves in 1957. Soon, other artists were adopting the same approach, and this gentle approach, together with lush arrangements, became known as the Nashville Sound.

As the 60s began Reeves scored big in the pop and country charts with He’ll Have to Go. From here on in his stature grew enormously worldwide, eclipsing his fame in the US, even. He was more popular than label mate Elvis in South Africa. Among his hits in the UK in 1963 was Welcome to My World, used in recent years in adverts for Thomson Holidays.

In an eerie foreshadowing of what was to come, the singer’s final session for RCA resulted in three songs – Make the World Go Away, Missing You and Is It Really Over? With tape left over, they cut one more track – I Can’t Stop Loving You, which had been a number 1 for Ray Charles in 1962.

On 31 July Reeves and his manager Dean Manuel (also the pianist in Reeves’ backing group, the Blue Boys) were flying over Brentwood, Tennessee when they encountered a violent thunderstorm. Two days later, after intense searching by friends including Marty Robbins, the wreckage was found, and by the afternoon, Gentleman Jim’s death was announced publicly.

Material by Reeves continued to be released after his untimely death, aged 40. Distant Drums was a song by country singer and dancer Cindy Walker. It had been recorded by Roy Orbison in 1963, but it is Reeves’ version that is remembered best.

So just how did Distant Drums not only make it to number 1, but hold court for five weeks? It’s really hard to say. It seems RCA had chosen to release it due to creeping anti-war sentiment over the situation in Vietnam, but I’m not sure you could describe it as an explicit protest song. Even if it was, surely there were more commercial examples of such a thing out there? The fact he was two years dead already means it wasn’t due to the strength of feeling after he was gone, either.

To be fair to Reeves, he never intended it as a single – it was merely meant as a demo, and had been tarted up with an orchestral backing. But lord, is it dull. I’m no country fan anyway, but it’s a B-side or album track at best. I’ve read that perhaps so many young bands were jockeying for the top spot at the time, Reeves’ single split the vote, but who knows? It’s another one of those chart mysteries.

Written by: Cindy Walker

Producer: Chet Atkins

Weeks at number 1: 5 (22 September-26 October)

Births:

Prime Minister David Cameron – 9 October 
Footballer Tony Adams – 10 October

Deaths:

Singer Alma Cogan – 26 October (see below)

Meanwhile…

21 October: At 9.15am in the mining village of Aberfan in Glamorgan, South Wales, pupils at Pantglas Junior School were just beginning their lessons. A large colliery spoil tip, high up on a mountain slope behind the village, suddenly turned into a slurry due to a period of heavy rain beforehand. Within five minutes, the slurry had engulfed the school, along with nearby houses and a farm. This tragic event resulted in the horrific deaths of 116 children and 28 adults. The TV footage of the incident makes for surreal, grim viewing.

26 October: Former chart-topper Alma Cogan, whose Dreamboat was number 1 in 1955, died of ovarian cancer aged only 34.

210. Nancy Sinatra – These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ (1966)

On 17 February, Nancy Sinatra began a month at number 1 with Lee Hazelwood’s These Boots Are Made for Walkin’, which finally brought a much-needed dose of feminism to the top of the charts.

The eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra and his first wife Nancy Barbato, Sinatra was born in Jersey City, New Jersey on 8 June 1940. When she was five her legendary father immortalised her in song with Nancy (with the Laughing Face). He clearly wanted her to follow in his footsteps, and she spent much of her childhood having singing, piano, dance and drama lessons.

In the late-50s she was studying music, dancing and voice at the University of California, but she dropped out and in 1960 and appeared on the television special The Frank Sinatra Timex Show: Welcome Home Elvis. She was sent to the airport on behalf of Frank to welcome Presley back from his stint in the army, and performed alongside her father in a rendition of You Make Me Feel So Young/Old (delete as applicable).

In 1961 Sinatra signed to her father’s label, Reprise Records and released her debut single Cuff Links and a Tie Clip. Besides a few chart appearances in Europe and Japan, she was going nowhere, and by 1965 she was on the verge of being dropped. It was around this time that Reprise introduced her to Lee Hazlewood.

Hazelwood was best known up to this point for his work with rockabilly guitarist Duane Eddy, and he produced Peter Gunn and Rebel Rouser, among others. He had written These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ with the intention of recording it himself. It’s more than fair it would have had a fraction of the impact if this had been the case. In an article for Los Angeles Magazine in 2016, Sinatra recalled Hazelwood had come over to her parents’ house to audition songs for her. The minute he played the infamous bass line on his guitar, she was hooked. But ‘he said, “It’s not really a girl’s song. I sing it myself onstage.” I told him that coming from a guy it was harsh and abusive, but was perfect for a little girl to sing. He agreed. When he left, my father, who had been sitting in the living room reading the paper, said, “The song about the boots is best.”’

Sinatra recorded the song on 19 November 1965 in Hollywood, with The Wrecking Crew providing the backing. Hazlewood’s idea to have her sing it in a lower register was a genius move, as was that slinky descending, dare I say, groovy opening. Sinatra’s had enough of her lover’s cheating ways despite his promises to change. What makes it so effective, and revolutionary at the time, is the fact she isn’t angry, or sad. She’s cool, calm, collected and entirely in charge, and it’s for these reasons (along with the boots imagery, obviously) that make These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ so sexy. A sexy number 1 by a female artist – how many times had that happened up to this point? Sinatra’s father famously denounced pop in the 60s, which is ironic, considering his own daughter helped invent modern female pop as we know it. I’m not going to mention ‘girl power’. Oh, I just did.

Sinatra’s image change to help her promote the song also pioneered 60s fashion, and there’s good reason the track is used in spoof spy film Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997). Her bleached-blonde hair, heavy eye make-up, mini-skirt and boots are the epitomy of 60s glamour, and the film she made for the track, with go-go dancers parading behind her, is truly iconic.

Written & produced by: Lee Hazelwood

Arranged by: Billy Strange

Weeks at number 1: 4 (17 February-16 March)

Births:

Comedian Ben Miller – 24 February 
Comedian Alan Davies – 6 March 
Politician Gregory Barker – 8 March 
Author Alastair Reynolds – 13 March 

Deaths:

Conservative MP Viscount Astor – 8 March 

Meanwhile…

17 February: The fall-out from Rhodesia continued through the rest of the winter, with the UK protesting to South Africa over its supplying of petrol to the country.

28 February: Prime Minister Harold Wilson announced a snap general election for 31 March.

2 March: Chancellor James Callaghan announced the decimalisation of the pound, which would come into effect on 15 February 1971.

5 March: BOAC Flight 911 crashed during severe turbulence over Mount Fuji soon after taking off from Tokyo International Airport in Japan. All 124 on board were killed.

9 March: Gangster Ronnie Kray, one half of infamous East End criminal duo the Kray Twins, shot dead George Cornell, an associate of the rival Richardson Gang.

11 March: Chi-Chi, London Zoo’s giant panda, was flown to Moscow to get it on with Moscow Zoo’s An-An. Wonder if they played them the number 1 of the time?

198. The Hollies – I’m Alive (1965)

Mancunian beat outfit The Hollies were one of the most popular acts of the era, ratcheting up many weeks in the top 10 from 1963 onwards. They may have only had one number 1 in the 60s, but they did topple Elvis Presley.

The nucleus of the group, Allan Clarke and Graham Nash, were friends from primary school who, like so many others, were keen skiffle fans. They were also admirers of The Everly Brothers and began modelling themselves on them, becoming known as Ricky and Dane Young. Soon after they joined up with a local band called The Fourtones.

In 1962 their guitarist Derek Quinn quit to join Freddie and the Dreamers, so Clarke and Nash also jumped ship. They teamed up with another Manchester band called The Deltas, who had just lost a member to The Mindbenders. The Deltas consisted of guitarist Vic Steele, bassist Eric Haydock and Don Rathbone on drums.

That December, they changed their name to The Hollies. Exactly why is unclear. It used to be said that Haydock came up with the name in relation to the festive season, but in 2009 Nash said it was a group decision and was influenced by Christmas and their mutual love of Buddy Holly.

The Hollies performed at the Cavern Club in Liverpool in January 1963, where they came to the attention of Parlophone assistant producer Ron Richards. He offered the band an audition, but Steele chose to quit as he didn’t want to turn professional. They replaced him with Tony Hicks, and they passed the audition, with Richards becoming their producer until well into the 70s. One of the songs they performed, a cover of the Coasters’ (Ain’t That) Just Like Me, became their debut single in May 1963. It did well, reaching number 25. After second single Searchin’, Rathbone chose to leave, and Hicks’ old bandmate Bobby Elliott became their new drummer.

In 1964 the Hollies went from strength to strength. Debut album Stay with the Hollies reached number two in the charts. And they scored hit after hit, most impressive of which was Just One Look. They stood out mainly due to the great harmonies of Clarke and Nash, and a tendency to pick strong songs to cover.  By September Clarke, Nash and Hicks were penning their own tunes and Richards agreed to let them record and release We’re Through as a single, which was another smash.

Some time in late 1964 or early 1965, Clint Ballard Jr approached the Hollies with a song he’d written especially for them. Ballard was a US songwriter who had discovered and managed The Kalin Twins, who had a UK number 1 with When in 1958. He had written Good Timin’ for Jimmy Jones, which went to the top in 1960. His timing with the Hollies was bad initially, as they passed on I’m Alive and it ended up in the hands of fellow Mancunians The Toggery Five. Perhaps they didn’t want to rely too much on covers, but they relented and recorded their own version in May and released it ASAP. And on 24 June the number 1 spot was finally theirs.

It’s all about the uplifting, anthemic chorus really, otherwise I’m not sure there’s much of a song there. But the harmonies are strong as ever and there’s some impressive drum fills too, so the group do the best they can with somewhat average material. I’ve already forgotten the verses but ‘I’m alive!’ is a nice earworm.

The Hollies battled with Presley for a few weeks, with Crying in the Chapel returning to number 1 after a week, but I’m Alive won the war and went back to the top for a further fortnight. It would be 23 years before an advertising campaign helped get the Hollies back to number 1 in 1988.

Written by: Clint Ballard Jr

Producer: Ron Richards

Weeks at number 1: 3 (24-30 June, 8-21 July)

Births:

Footballer Gary Pallister – 30 June
Labour MP David Miliband – 15 July
Dinah Rose, QC – 16 July
Academic Steve Webb – 18 July

Meanwhile…

8 July: After 15 months behind bars, Great Train Robber Ronnie Biggs escaped from Wandsworth Prison. He scaled a wall with a rope ladder and dropped into a waiting removal van. The canny criminal then fled to Brussels.

12 July: Secretary of State for Education and Science Tony Crosland issued Circular 10/65, which set into motion the abolition of grammar schools and secondary moderns. One of the best actions Labour took during the Wilson government.