A lot of ladies certainly seemed to
get very worked up by Demis Roussos. Already a superstar on the continent, his
USP was the combination of an enormous frame barely contained in a kaftan and
an extraordinarily light, high voice. His EP The Roussos Phenomenon, led by the
ballad ‘Forever and Ever’, topped the charts in the long hot summer of 1976.
Maybe the high temperatures and lack of rain made British women long for the
Greek beaches and a bearded sex god serenading them – and along came Demis!
In fact he had been on UK TV with Nana
Mouskouri and even Basil Brush a few years previously but the EP propelled him
into the premier league. I didn’t like his music one iota, but you couldn’t
ignore him. He was an easy target for parody, and we all tried our worst
falsetto to do so. Nevertheless, imitation is supposed to be the sincerest form
of flattery so I’m sure Roussos took it all in his stride.
Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene’ took more than
two years to make it in Britain. As with most Country music, it didn’t appeal
to me at all. Like Demis Roussos, her unmistakeable – er – body shape left her
wide open to sexist imitators. To be honest, it was probably the breast jokes
which brought her to the attention of a wider audience but Dolly had the last
laugh. No number one singles, but, since her Glastonbury triumph in 2014, her
’76 breakthrough has sold more than 200,000 digital downloads!
It was also a successful year for
Showaddywaddy. The Leicester faux teddy boys were a regular sight on Top of the
Pops in their colourful drapes miming along to a series of late fifties and
early sixties hits. Their only number one single came towards the end of ’76,
when ‘Under the Moon of Love’ threatened to be the top song at Christmas. It
didn’t, thanks to the black polo jumper-clad Johnny Mathis, but it come to
epitomise their distinct brand of music, appealing to fans of rock’n’roll-lite
and simple, straightforward fun pop.
Another band never likely to win the
hearts of New Musical Express editors was The Wurzels. A novelty act, yes, but
their Zummerzet shtick was genuine and even I was won over by their re-working
of recent hits. ‘Brand New Key’ was transformed into ‘Combine Harvester’
and – lo! – a number one! The follow-up was ‘I Am a Cider Drinker’, with new
lyrics to the tune of ‘Una Paloma Blanca’. Their chart positions weakened as
the joke wore thinner, but they are still going strong in the West Country.
Even I used to sing the ‘Cider Drinker’ chorus as I drove past the Somerset
sign on the M5. They regularly headline events in and around Bridgwater, where
they are living legends!
The Brotherhood of Man returned to the
big time courtesy of their Eurovision entry ‘Save Your Kisses for Me’. Cute
song, cute dance steps and cute little twist at the end. Cute, cute, cute.
However, for me the “Ahhh”s on first hearing swiftly became ‘”Aarrghhh”s the
more the record was played. And that was very often, because the foursome won
Eurovision and became the year’s best-sellers. They even went on to top the
charts twice more in the Seventies, coasting on the coat-tails of Abba.
Other annoying hits of ’76 include CW
McCall’s trucker song ‘Convoy’, which made number two in a year when CB radio
started to become popular, many years before mobile phones. That was bad enough
but then Radio 1 DJs Dave Lee Travis and Paul Burnett became Laurie Lingo and
the Dipsticks to record the silly ‘Convoy GB’. It peaked at four! John Miles’
‘Music’ left me unmoved and Eric Carmen’s ‘All By Myself’ deserved to have kept
him in solitude for life.
Dutch Country outfit Pussycat enjoyed
substantial sales of the pedestrian ‘Mississippi’ and they were turfed off the
top by Chicago’s ‘If You Leave me Now’. For many, this is a classic ballad but
I beg to differ. I just think Peter Cetera sounds like a whiny bluebottle you
can’t destroy. There, I’ve said it!
Sailor’s ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ also
registered high on the naff scale, and accompanied lots of
politically-incorrect clips in those unenlightened times. Their nautical
costumes and impressive nickelodeon keyboard contraption also stood out from
the rest. However, listen to their first number two single, ‘A Glass of Champagne’;
it’s actually quite good!
Another act which probably wouldn’t
make the grade in the twenty-first century was Tina Charles. She wasn’t a size
zero, she couldn’t really dance and, truth be told, she couldn’t really sing
very well. Tina probably wouldn’t pass an X Factor audition. However, back in
’76, her winning smile and Biddu-produced dance-pop made winning formula. She
looked like an ordinary young woman boogieing on a local dancefloor or
nervously taking to a pub karaoke platform, but she was a surprise success
story of ’76.
To some cogniscenti she is now
considered a British disco pioneer. That might be pushing it a bit, but ‘I Love
to Love’ was the eighth biggest seller of 1976. Her (earthier) voice had also
been heard on 5000 Volts’ high-energy 1975 hit ‘I’m on Fire’, but my personal
favourite was her solo song ‘Dance Little Lady, Dance’.
The guitar is distinctly funky. Not in
the moped/gibbon sense of the word, but in the ‘makes you want to get up and
jiggle about’ sense. I also liked the Wild Cherry top tenner, ‘Play that Funky
Music’. A shame I rarely hear it on the radio any more. The same goes for The
Sensational Alex Harvey Band’s weird ‘Boston Tea Party’.
Always a very visual band, this was one of the few Harvey songs I actually
liked (the other being their outrageous version of ‘Delilah’). It stalled at
thirteen but I enjoyed their brand of rock, and the charismatic Harvey’s
unashamed Scottish and, on his TOTP performance, live vocals. At the age of 40, he may have looked slightly the
worse for wear, but his stage presence was undeniably Sensational.
Thin LIzzy became rock gods in 1976 with the immortal ‘Boys Are Back in Town’, forever radio-friendly. It may be full of ‘chicks’ and crazy ‘cats’ but I can’t tire of hearing it. Everything that followed was inferior. I don’t think Hank Mizell was ever a guitar hero like Phil Lynott, but I confess that, at the time, I did prefer the re-release of his 1958 rockabilly flop, ‘Jungle Rock’! One of my favourite Status Quo songs also made the top ten. In a year which gave us the century’s most serious and prolonged drought, it had to be ‘Rain’…
Away from rock, I liked Barry White’s
number two hit ‘Say the Trouble with Me’, Yvonne Elliman’s sweet ‘Love Me’, The
Four Seasons’ ‘December ‘63’ and Andy Fairweather Low’s ‘Wide-eyed and
Legless’. That reminds me…. I recently attended a Paul Weller concert in
Cardiff. Towards the end, a ‘local boy done good’ was ushered onto the stage.
Bald, in unflattering specs and acoustic guitar in hand, Paul introduced him as
Mr Fairweather Low himself! Unrecognisable from his Amen Corner days but we all
sang along anyway to ‘Half as Nice’. His 1976 top-tenner would have raised a
smile, too.
The most memorable disco contributions
must have been Candi Staton’s summer classic ‘Young Hearts Run Free’
and Andrea True Connection’s ‘More More More’
but a song which elicited much discussion in the playground was written
and sung by an unknown black British woman, Joan Armatrading. The opening
unaccompanied lines of ‘Love and Affection’
“I’m not in love
But I’m open to persuasion”
must be amongst the powerful of any
song in the Seventies. When the acoustic guitar kicked in, you were hooked. It
dragged on a bit for me so didn’t register high on my list back then.
Nevertheless, something different never hurt!
Elton John took his mix of piano
ballads and rock to the States, generating more sales but also pissing off the
right-wing bible-bashers who considered him the devil incarnate. And he hadn’t
even come out as gay! Over here, it was his unassuming Motown-esque duet ‘Don’t
Go Breaking My Heart’ with Kiki Dee which captured British hearts, occupying
the number one spot throughout the summer holidays. I didn’t much like it, but
Elton’s comic turn in the promo film was quite engaging.
Paul McCartney and Wings were
unfortunate to miss out on a number one single in ’76. Both ‘Silly Love Songs’
and ‘Let ‘Em In’ both peaked at two in the charts, but I liked them both. While
they were separate entities, I still think of them as parts of a pair. Paul’s
bass is really prominent in the former, while the latter is an unashamedly
lightweight piano-driven song. As with the nursery rhyme ‘Mary Had a Little
Lamb’, only McCartney could manufacture a big hit from such simple material: a
rollcall of friends, family and heroes knocking on his door.
Earlier I waxed lyrical about 10cc’s
‘I’m Not in Love’. However, it was their 1976 single ‘I’m Mandy, Fly Me’ which
was, and remains, my favourite track from their brilliant back catalogue. It
starts out as another gentle Eric Stewart ballad before taking off into all
sorts of weird directions thanks, presumably, to Kevin Godley’s influence.
Impossible to dance to, but it’s wonderful to listen to: the best song of the
year.
Sadly it marked the end of 10cc as a foursome. Godley and Crème departed to be
creative in different fields, notably the development of the music video throughout
the Eighties. Stewart and Gouldman kept going (but not as 5cc!) and with such
an enormous writing and performing pedigree, enjoyed further hits until Stewart
suffered an injury which kept him out of the studio. The magical momentum was
lost and one of the great bands was no more.
But they weren’t my favourite artists
of the year. Without any doubt whatsoever, that accolade went to the group who
dominated our charts in 1976. Not British, not American, but Swedish! They
were, of course, ABBA.
‘Waterloo’ had promised to be a
one-hit Eurovision wonder until ‘S.O.S’ came to the rescue at the end of 1975.
A few months later, ’Mamma Mia’ finally knocked ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ off its
perch. I must admit it left me distinctly underwhelmed. However, come April, their
first masterpiece blew me away. ‘Fernando’’s intro of woodwind and gentle
military drum rolls immediately creates a special mood, but when Frida sings
the first verse, it practically brings tears to my eyes.The chorus brings some happiness to the story but the whole package made me
realise ABBA were no passing fad.
Even better was to follow. Returning
from our coach holiday through Europe at the end of August, the big news on the
Sunday evening Top 20 show was the surge of ‘Dancing Queen’ from sixteen to
one. It took only one listen to recognise an instant classic. That opening
piano glissando was thrilling and the rest of the record didn’t disappoint
either. As ever, the ABBA crew lavished time and lots of love on the
production. Benny and Bjorn have since explained how they weren’t prolific, but
they worked darned hard to perfect what songs they had written; I guess it’s
hard to make a song sound simple. The more you listen, the more recognisable
little bells and whistles you can pick up. Not literally ‘bells and whistles’
but the little strings motifs, the ‘high hat’ cymbal, the choral “ah ah-ah”s,
the six-note piano bit are all as familiar as the melody and the infectious
beat. The video may not have captured the essence but it must be one of the best
dance records ever made.
No sooner had ‘Dancing Queen’ slipped
out of the chart, ‘Money, Money, Money’ was released for Christmas. It must
have sold plenty but was held at three. I remember going Christmas shopping in
Chelmsford, mooching around Dace’s music shop seeking inspiration. ‘Money,
Money, Money’ was playing and the main display featured piles of the new ABBA
album, ‘Arrival’. I don’t think I bought either, but I did purchase the year’s
bestselling LP, the group’s first Greatest Hits collection. For Mum, of course,
but we could all enjoy ABBA.
Disappointingly there was no ‘Dancing
Queen’ but I did discover a few other songs which had charted but failed to
attract my attention. ‘I Do I Do I Do I Do I Do’ (there are five!), ‘Ring Ring’
and ‘Honey Honey’ had that distinctive ABBA style, as well as typical repeated
words in the title. The LP must have been the first proper ‘greatest hits’
record I ever bought. Their next one was probably ABBA’s second. As the brand
new album that December declared, the Swedish quartet had arrived. With the
musical ‘Mamma Mia’ and later generations of music lovers perpetuating their
musical legacy, they have never really departed.
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