United Kingdom
Written by Debbie Cook
Produced by David Foister
Highest Position: 3
Label: Dingle's
Formats available: 7" in plain sleeve
Folk music has rarely had much chart success, and has often been represented by novelty songs. This effort, by a perfectly authentic traditional folk band from Canterbury, is no exception. It's a breezy little song about a boozy coach trip to the Welsh coast, which has 'one-hit wonder; indelibly stamped on its forehead. I found it rather cheesy at the time, but on watching a Youtube clip I can confirm that it's aged pretty well and sounds perfectly charming. I mean, it's not a great record (and Debbie Cook's vocals can be a little too strong, which is often a problem in English folk) but it's perfectly listenable.
One bit of interesting trivia: the song was allegedly inspired by a trip to Rhyl, but Bangor was used as it scanned better. Councillors from Rhyl (clearly having nothing better to do) were up in arms about this apparent bait-and-switch, although the band have denied that it's about anywhere other than Bangor. Whatever, it is, to my knowledge, the only big hit song ever written about a seaside resort in Wales. I really feel that Barry Island has been unjustly ignored here.
The band did eventually evolve into The Oyster Band, who became a big draw on the British folk circuit during the 80s.
Sunday, 17 August 2014
5 January 1980 - ABBA - I Have A Dream
Sweden/Norway
Written by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus
Produced by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus
Highest Position: 2
Label: Epic
Formats available: 7" in company sleeve, 7" in gatefold picture sleeve
During the dark days of British pop that were 1975 an 1976, ABBA's classy run of immaculately produced Europop was usually a beacon of rare light among the jaded dross. And, as the decade picked up with the punk and disco revolutions, they remained relevant by adapting to the new dancefloor-based sounds (well, they couldn't exactly embrace punk). Unfortunately, this is one of their worst singles, proof that they could phone it in. It's a rather sappy effort that strains too hard to be heart-warming. There's a reasonably pretty keyboard line, but the arrangement is let down by the blandly-strummed acoustic guitar and the fact that there's not much of a song here. In fact, there's no chorus at all.
Also, we have a children's choir joining in towards the end, but, whereas Pink Floyd used their choir creatively, it feels like a cliché here. ABBA transcended Eurovision when they won in 1974, but this sounds like too many leaden Euroballads that have appeared in that contest down the years.
Another problem is that, well, there isn't much angst here. This is important because (a) they're from the land of August Strindberg and Ingmar Bergman, so gloom is expected and (b) they were all going through a pair of painful divorces at the time. As we will see, this was present in their other 80s singles. However here, they're papering over the cracks in their personal lives with fake smiles and it isn't convincing.
Written by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus
Produced by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus
Highest Position: 2
Label: Epic
Formats available: 7" in company sleeve, 7" in gatefold picture sleeve
During the dark days of British pop that were 1975 an 1976, ABBA's classy run of immaculately produced Europop was usually a beacon of rare light among the jaded dross. And, as the decade picked up with the punk and disco revolutions, they remained relevant by adapting to the new dancefloor-based sounds (well, they couldn't exactly embrace punk). Unfortunately, this is one of their worst singles, proof that they could phone it in. It's a rather sappy effort that strains too hard to be heart-warming. There's a reasonably pretty keyboard line, but the arrangement is let down by the blandly-strummed acoustic guitar and the fact that there's not much of a song here. In fact, there's no chorus at all.
Also, we have a children's choir joining in towards the end, but, whereas Pink Floyd used their choir creatively, it feels like a cliché here. ABBA transcended Eurovision when they won in 1974, but this sounds like too many leaden Euroballads that have appeared in that contest down the years.
Another problem is that, well, there isn't much angst here. This is important because (a) they're from the land of August Strindberg and Ingmar Bergman, so gloom is expected and (b) they were all going through a pair of painful divorces at the time. As we will see, this was present in their other 80s singles. However here, they're papering over the cracks in their personal lives with fake smiles and it isn't convincing.
5 January 1980 - Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)
United Kingdom
Written by Roger Waters
Produced by Bob Ezrin, David Gilmour, James Guthrie, Roger Waters
Highest Position: 1
Label: Harvest
Formats available: 7" in company sleeve, 7" in picture sleeve
Just how depressed was the British public in Christmas 1979? Usually in the 1970s you got a heart-warming festive treat performed by Slade or Mud as the Yuletide chart champion. But, with that tired decade on its last legs, British record-buyers just about summoned the energy to buy en masse the most depressing Christmas number one ever.
It was also a curious release, given that the Cambridge progressive rock band had steadfastly refused to release any singles at all during the previous years of the decade. And what they released was hardly obvious commercial fare. The song really only makes sense in the context of The Wall, a sprawling double album about a rock star whose sense of alienation grows so powerful it turns him into a deeply unpleasant character who eventually has to learn to re-connect with the world. It is partly autobiographical, as Waters was reflecting on how fame had turned him into someone he wouldn't really want to meet. The song is a direct reflection on his own unhappy schooldays, and forms part of a trilogy within the album. It features moody, downbeat instrumentation as the band plods through a not at all dynamic mid-paced arrangement, and a chorus line that's barely there at all. Meanwhile, a discordant cockneyed accented children's choir joins in with the second verse and chorus to sinister effect. The song then ends on David Gilmour's tasteful guitar soloing towards the fade.
The band do not appear in the video, which features the choir plus some brilliant animated artwork from Gerald Scarfe (the marching hammers segment is a superb image of totalitarianism, and has frequently been parodied).
For all its lugubrious content, it remains a pretty powerful piece of moody art-rock, with a slightly incongruous disco beat. I'm still surprised that it became so popular. I suppose the anti-establishment mood of opening line "We don't need no education" fitted in well with the post-punk zeitgeist, but to me the line was lazy. The problem isn't education (a good thing that opens the mind) but with school, which can be a deadening, hidebound institution. I'd even argue that a school's obsession with rote learning and endless rule-following is actually anti-education.
For Pink Floyd, the album was the beginning of the end. They made only one more album with Waters (the poorly-received The Final Cut) before being ejected from the band as a bitter feud had made working relationships impossible. The band's new Gilmour-led line-up made a couple more albums. Waters frequently returned to The Wall in his solo career, often staging lavish live shows filled with special guests. This song has ultimately become his signature tune, it would appear.
Written by Roger Waters
Produced by Bob Ezrin, David Gilmour, James Guthrie, Roger Waters
Highest Position: 1
Label: Harvest
Formats available: 7" in company sleeve, 7" in picture sleeve
Just how depressed was the British public in Christmas 1979? Usually in the 1970s you got a heart-warming festive treat performed by Slade or Mud as the Yuletide chart champion. But, with that tired decade on its last legs, British record-buyers just about summoned the energy to buy en masse the most depressing Christmas number one ever.
It was also a curious release, given that the Cambridge progressive rock band had steadfastly refused to release any singles at all during the previous years of the decade. And what they released was hardly obvious commercial fare. The song really only makes sense in the context of The Wall, a sprawling double album about a rock star whose sense of alienation grows so powerful it turns him into a deeply unpleasant character who eventually has to learn to re-connect with the world. It is partly autobiographical, as Waters was reflecting on how fame had turned him into someone he wouldn't really want to meet. The song is a direct reflection on his own unhappy schooldays, and forms part of a trilogy within the album. It features moody, downbeat instrumentation as the band plods through a not at all dynamic mid-paced arrangement, and a chorus line that's barely there at all. Meanwhile, a discordant cockneyed accented children's choir joins in with the second verse and chorus to sinister effect. The song then ends on David Gilmour's tasteful guitar soloing towards the fade.
The band do not appear in the video, which features the choir plus some brilliant animated artwork from Gerald Scarfe (the marching hammers segment is a superb image of totalitarianism, and has frequently been parodied).
For all its lugubrious content, it remains a pretty powerful piece of moody art-rock, with a slightly incongruous disco beat. I'm still surprised that it became so popular. I suppose the anti-establishment mood of opening line "We don't need no education" fitted in well with the post-punk zeitgeist, but to me the line was lazy. The problem isn't education (a good thing that opens the mind) but with school, which can be a deadening, hidebound institution. I'd even argue that a school's obsession with rote learning and endless rule-following is actually anti-education.
For Pink Floyd, the album was the beginning of the end. They made only one more album with Waters (the poorly-received The Final Cut) before being ejected from the band as a bitter feud had made working relationships impossible. The band's new Gilmour-led line-up made a couple more albums. Waters frequently returned to The Wall in his solo career, often staging lavish live shows filled with special guests. This song has ultimately become his signature tune, it would appear.
Introduction
I am pretty obsessed with 80s music; I love the diversity and unpredictability of a decade where new genres were constantly developing and a sense of adventure was everywhere. So, I've set myself a challenge. I will listen to every single that made the top five in the UK during the 80s, and will jot down thoughts about every one, starting with the chart for week-ending 5 January 1980. This should be a wild ride uncovering classic singles and a whole load of questionable nonsense as well. Hold tight!
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