Tag Archives: noddy holder

Number Ones of 1972 (Part 2)

… [continued from Part 1]

When the UK had ‘suffered’ enough Chicory Tip at Number One, it then propelled a peculiar love song to the top of the charts. 

Without You” was written and originally recorded by Badfinger, a band from Wales who were (somewhat inexplicably IMHO) signed to The BeatlesApple Records

The song was heard by John Lennon’s pal Harry Nilsson – who had already enjoyed chart success with “Everybody’s Talkin” in 1969 – who gave it a new lonely starkness to produce what some people might describe as a “timeless wedding day classic”.

I liked the song a lot more then than I do now. In between it seemed to feature in all my relationship woes of the 70’s, 80’s and early 90’s, so perhaps it has just soured on me? I do know that I was horrified by this version by Mariah Carey, but I’ll admit she’s a lot better to look at than poor old Harry.

OK, now when I said I liked most of the Number 1’s of 1972 – or at least suggested I had an inkling of affection for them – there is one that is most definitely NOT included in that comment.

Now, I’m not a fan of the turgid religious yawn known as “Amazing Grace” at the best of times, but when it played by bagpipes I usually look for the nearest gun to shoot myself with.

I HATE bagpipes.

So for 5 weeks in 1972 I doubtless cut my recording of the Top 30 chart short whilst The Drums & Pipes & Military Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards‘ hideous interpretation of the song was Number 1. (I even feel as if I should apologise for including the link?!)

What do you have if you have the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards up to their neck in sand? Yep, not enough sand.

The wailing octopi were followed by yet another Number One hit for T.Rex, this time the magnificent “Metal Guru“, Bolan’s tribute to (in his words) “a god of no specific nature”.

Presumably one who sits in an armour plated chair and doesn’t have a telephone?

(The whole glam rock thing with Bolan, Bowie, The Sweet, Slade and… yes, even The Rubettes, deserves several posts all to itself… so anticipate my thoughts about it all sometime in the next few months)

With Chicory Tip having beaten his classic “American Pie” to Number 1, (despite my personal attempts to ensure everyone knew the lyrics) Don McLean followed it up with his strange ode to painter Van Gogh.

Vincent (Starry Starry Night)” is a lightweight fluffy pop song which contains the dubious refrain “This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you“… to which the painter could only have replied “PARDON?”

Trivia fact: Roberta Flack‘s 1974 hit “Killing me Softly with His Song” was written about Don McLean, specifically about a concert he played in LA in 1971. (If any readers win pub quizzes with this kind of material I expect my cut!)

We go from dreary old Don to screamy young Noddy.

Slade‘s “Take me Bak ‘Ome” – quite aside from sharing my own penchant for deliberate speling errors – was the second of Slade’s six number one singles in the UK. I’ve written about Slade before (an example here) and I guess I always had something of a soft spot for them.

Not as much as other people I went to school with though. It’s weird the things I can remember from my youth…..

In 1973, Slade’s drummer Don Powell was involved in a serious car crash in which his 20-year-old girlfriend was killed. Powell ended up with broken ribs, smashed ankles and other injuries including skull damage. He did eventually recover from the accident – for a few months he had to be lifted onto his drumkit for performances  – but it left him with no sense of taste or smell and severe short-term memory issues.

For whatever reason I was somehow amused by the fact that one of my schoolchums – I think his name was Robin? – told me he had sent Powell a “get well” card whilst the drummer was in hospital. Why I would remember that I have absolutely noidea, but whenever I see Slade on TV, video or the internet I am always reminded of it. Weird huh?

[continued in Part 3]….

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Filed under 1972 Diary Entries, an aside, Asides on the 1970's

July 18th 1972 (II)

In afternoon went up Gordon’s + borrowed Slade Alive + 45’s”/ “Argument on verge” / “Poured down + lightning” / “6m”

Parents still on the cusp of arguing, a teenager on holiday is still writing diary notes about the weather, another six miles on the bike…. it’s all pretty yawn-filled stuff isn’t it? So thank heavens for Slade!

Not everyone is aware that before they became glam-rock superstars Slade were a somewhat ‘manufactured’ (by notorious manager, Chas Chandler – who also handled Hendrix) skinhead rock band, complete with shaved heads and Doc Marten ‘bovver’ boots.

“Slade Alive” – the sensible casting off of their skinhead ‘ouvre’ – is often considered one of the very finest live albums ever released, and it was certainly a worthy introduction to the Wolverhampton rock band who would go on to have no fewer than seventeen UK Top 20 hits in the 70’s and be cited as an influence for bands raging from Nirvana to Whitesnake. (Rumour has it, they were also part of the inspiration for “Spinal Tap”?!)

I heard – and fell in love with – Slade’s version of “Born to be Wild” long before I was even aware it was Steppenwolf’s mainstay, but it was lead singer Noddy Holder’s screamed salvo of “aaaaaaawllllrrrrriiiight everybody….let your hair down….. I wanna see everybody get up on your seats, clap your hands and stamp your feet” kicking off the cut “Get Down & Get With It” that has defined this album for me over the years. As a precursive singalong pop anthem to their later hits I defy anyone not to…. well, stamp your feet, clap your hands or even nod your head to the powerbeat.

There’s also something mildly endearing about Noddy completely undermining a ‘love ballad’ like “Darling Be Home Soon” by, half-way through, just belching loudly into the microphone. That, my friends, is Rock’n’Roll.

I never saw Slade play live but on the strength of listening to this album over and over again since 1972 I often wish I had. I’d have needed earplugs though I think because this album is LOUD with a capital HELL!

Just as an aside, can I just add that Noddy Holder’s autobiography “Who’s Crazee Now” remains one of the most honest and funniest examples of writing about the music business that I have ever read.

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Filed under 1972 Diary Entries