1968: We’d sing and dance forever and a day

In 1968, while the Americans were slaughtering Vietnamese civilians, Eastern European risings were being crushed and Western European students were revolting, I was still at Ingrave Primary School and continuing my musical education with Top of the Pops. The sudden flowering of my interest in music the previous year in some ways put ’68 into the shade. Nevertheless, there are still songs, performances and artists which have stayed with me.

The first four new number one singles of the year were among them. The Beatles had hogged the top two spots over Christmas and the New Year before ‘Hello Goodbye’ suddenly plunged to number eight, allowing Georgie Fame to hit the top. I wasn’t aware of the trendy Beatty/Dunaway film but Fame’s ‘Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde’ stood out. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the movie but simply told the story of the romanticised armed robbers with the help of brass, banjo and lots of police sirens and gunfire until ‘finally, together, they died….’

The Love Affair’s ‘Everlasting Love’ was pure pop melody but I don’t remember what the group looked like. Many years later, they appeared on stage at Billericay’s Firework Display, presumably as part of a Sixties nostalgia tour. Obviously they mimed to ‘Everlasting Love’ and the follow-up ‘Rainbow Valley’ but it failed to stir any visual memories.

However, I quite liked Manfred Mann. I do recall them topping the chart with ‘The Mighty Quin’. After a few years as a blues band fronted by Paul Jones, they’d reinvented themselves as an innovative pop group with singer Mike d’Abo. In 1967 I’d liked ‘Ha Ha, Said the Clown’, presumably the title and chorus appealing to children of my age, and the trademark piccolo also appeared in ‘Quin’. Not so long ago I watched a BBC4 broadcast of an entire TOTP which, by some miracle, had survived the zealous wiping that destroyed so much of the Beeb’s archive. The Manfreds topped the bill that week but I was amazed how many great artists had appeared on that single programme in not-so-glorious black and white.

I think that was the episode which marked the nation’s first exposure to Status Quo. I don’t remember them at the time but the clip has been shown probably more often than any of their other kazillion TOTP appearances. Hilarious! The Move enjoyed a lot of success in the late sixties and there on the show was ‘Fire Brigade’ together with ‘whoo-ooo’ sirens. I reckon Amen Corner were in there somewhere, too. ‘Bend Me, Shape Me’ would have appealed but I have a stronger memory of their 1969 number one, ‘Half as Nice’.

Back then, it could take several weeks for a single to climb the charts. Indeed, unless you were The Fab Four, that was the norm. Then along came Esther and Abi Ofarim and the global hit ‘Cinderella Rockefella’. I remember them on TOTP looking like an Israeli Sonny and Cher. Their Twenties-meets-the-Sixties fashion and an irritatingly catchy banjo-driven melody struck a chord and it progressed up the charts 32-2-1. I’m not a fan of Israel but at least the nation stopped fighting Arabs long enough to produce three fun minutes of kitsch pop.

In contrast to the Ofarims, a couple of true classics took their time advancing to the top. Louis Armstrong’s ‘What a Wonderful World’ hit the peak in its twelfth week on the chart and went on to out-sell everything else that year. I’m pretty sure ‘Satchmo’ wasn’t on TOTP himself but the Beeb had to put out the same old film of trees, flowers and people shaking hands, saying “How do you do?” for weeks on end. It was a double A-sider with ‘Cabaret’, the theatrical show of which had transferred to the West End that year. Nevertheless, it was the optimistic, life-affirming antidote to the world seemingly at war with itself which had us all smiling and swaying. Deprived of airplay by racist radio stations, it didn’t even make the American Top 100. Over here, even this six year-old would have known the most famous and probably most badly imitated last two words of a song ever sung: “Ohhhh, yeeehhhhhhhh”.

Another of my favourites from ’68 was Hugo Montenegro’s orchestral version of Ennio Morricone’s theme for ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’, which took ten weeks to reach number one. The Clint Eastwood spaghetti western now ranks amongst my favourite films of all time. Yet for a chunk of my childhood, alongside ‘Massachussetts’, it was my most cherished record. I loved the two-note woodwind whistle (appropriated by Jimmy Savile for his catchphrase), the ‘wah-wah-wah’s, staccato ‘rep, rup, rep’ grunts, whistling and flamboyant trumpet, underpinned by a melody and rhythm you could actually dance to. I’m not saying I did, but it demonstrated to my young self that a record didn’t have to feature words to be enjoyable. Indeed, it certainly wasn’t the last instrumental to grasp me in its power. A shame there aren’t many around these days.

A TOTP performance of which I have a crystal-clear memory is Bobby Goldsboro’s debut rendition of ‘Honey’. The presenter (I forget which) announced him at having risen to number two, so I can now date this to the first week of June. To this world-weary fifty-something, this paeon to a dead girlfriend, complete with the dreaded angelic choir (I hate all records which resort to that!) now makes me cringe. However, it’s a decent enough song which also did well when it was re-released in 1975.

Coincidentally it was kept from the top slot by another Sixties classic revived in the mid-Seventies: the Union Gap’s ‘Young Girl’. That was another record I remember vividly. Given its theme of a man’s love for a – well, young girl - I do wonder if it would evade the modern censor in the era of Operation Yewtree. Of course, like many songs, you make of it what you want, and it’s essentially a great pop record.

Television programmes were also leaving a musical mark on me, other than TOTP, of course. I would have been very familiar with themes for programmes such as Z Cars, Doctor Who, Get Smart, Blue Peter and such like. I was probably allowed to stay up for Cilla Black’s Saturday night BBC1 show by 1968, and for years I’m sure she would sing ‘Step Inside Love’ at some point in the programme. The theme song wasn’t a favourite of mine but I couldn’t escape it.

The same goes for the theme to ’White Horses’. I grew up with a succession of dubbed European children’s drama series. When the Beeb had little money in the Sixties, children’s TV seemed to consist purely of Blue Peter, Crackerjack and ‘Tales from Europe’. I didn’t really like these old-fashioned (even then) continental productions; it’s just that before ‘The Magic Roundabout’ and the boring news for grown-ups there was just nothing else to watch. However, I do remember ‘White Horses’, which was made by German/Yugoslavian TV and was about a girl who went off to Lipica, famous for its Lipizzaner horses. A bit girly, perhaps, but Jacky’s pleasant signature tune made up for it.

Sometimes, it’s the quirky acts which left an imprint, and none were quirkier than Don Partridge. Long before every busker tried to be the new Ed Sheeran or Amy Whitehouse, a trip on the London Underground might well bring you into contact with a one-man band. He (almost certainly a he) would play an acoustic guitar, to which a harmonica and maybe kazoo were attached. A bass drum and cymbal, worked by the feet, would rest on his back, while his left elbow could tap a rhythm on the offbeat. The result could be very entertaining and I remember seeing my first one-man band live. Then Don Partridge appeared on TOTP, launching a briefly bright career with his catchy composition ‘Rosie’, reaching number four. ‘Blue Eyes’ went even higher. There were other hits, too, before he ditched the heavy kit to become a more conventional, albeit less successful pop star. He soon reverted to busking and later slid into semi-retirement in the aptly-named Peacehaven on the Sussex coast.

Two teenage artists were also memorable in their different ways. I wouldn’t have watched ITV’s ‘Opportunity Knocks’ so missed Mary Hopkin’s success on the show. However, once Paul McCartney took her under his wing, and released ‘Those Were the Days’ on the brand new Apple label, even I knew who she was. With the long blonde hair, strumming a guitar and crystal-clear voice, the girl from Pontardawe became a global star.

‘Those Were the Days’, with its Russian folk heritage, even displaced The Beatles’ own ‘Hey Jude’ from the number one slot and kept it at bay throughout October. Quite an achievement because I rate 'Hey Jude' to be the Beatles masterpiece of masterpieces. The Fab Four got their own back in 1969 when ‘Get Back’ kept Hopkin’s ‘Goodbye’ (written by McCartney) at two. The following year, she was a runner-up once more, this time in the Eurovision Song Contest, where another pretty songstress, Dana, took the main prize. Young Mary disappeared from the charts for good, marrying producer Tony Visconti and having a family. However, she helped make that Autumn ’68 sequence of chart toppers such a great one.

Barry Ryan never topped the singles chart but I’ll never forget his five-and-a- half-minute opus ‘Eloise’. For some reason I do recall seeing him on TOTP with his brother Paul, although not the songs themselves. Paul quit performing but continued to write, and ‘Eloise’ was the Ryans’ crowning glory. The production was OTT right from the dramatic orchestral intro, but Barry’s voice was equal to it. I can picture him on TOTP, dark-haired and sad-eyed, but I wouldn’t mind betting this promo film was also played. Lots of fish-eye lens, evocative seaside shots – and the singer looking rather cold and awkward atop an extra from ‘White Horses’ alongside a Catherine Deneuve lookalike. Rubbish video, but one of the great Sixties musical epics!

While Eloise apparently floated off into the surf, a very different female ascended the charts and into my heart. No, not Kylie! Not yet, anyway. I’m referring to ‘Lily the Pink’, The Scaffold had already had a hit with ‘Thank U Very Much’ but this amusing ditty telling the story of how Lily’s ‘medicinal compound’ had changed the lives of assorted characters (including Ebenezer, thought he was Julius Caesar; Mr Frears and his sticky-out ears) was tailor-made for children like me. We all knew the words, verse and chorus, and the music-hall-style production guaranteed it a Christmas number one.

With Beatle Paul’s brother Mike McGear the lead singer, John Gorman’s comedy antics and the wonderful words of Roger McGough, The Scaffold were more than just another Liverpool pop group. They even had Tim Rice and a pre-fame Elton John on backing vocals and rock god Jack Bruce playing bass! Lily the Pink’s soul may have ascended ‘up to heaven’ but this remains one of my favourite Christmas chart-toppers and an integral part of my childhood.

In 1968, Otis Redding was sitting on a ‘Dock of a Bay’, Dusty Springfield was celebrating the ‘Son of a Preacher Man’, Julie Driscoll’s Wheel was on Fire, Andy Williams couldn’t take his eyes off you and Simon and Garfunkel’s tale of ‘Mrs Robinson’ were all in the charts yet one of my best remembered songs was ‘Little Arrows’ by Leapy Lee.

Like ‘Lily the Pink’, this was a rather daft, almost comic record, and Lee’s bouncy delivery endeared it to me. Good enough to make number two, it’s another in the line of 1968 favourites. Could 1969 possibly follow that?!