Number-one songs that never were

As Ed Power ponders a possible digital backlash, he talks to John Creedon about classic songs that never made it to the top of the charts

Fri, 27 Feb, 2015 - 00:00

Ed Power

WHAT do Ultravox’s ‘Vienna’, The Beatles’ ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ and The Kinks’ ‘Waterloo Sunset’ have in common? All these iconic songs were denied a UK number one by arguably inferior rivals.

Instead, they are part of a pantheon of classic number-two singles, a club that also includes The Pogues’ ‘Fairytale Of New York’ and, in the UK, Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’ (which topped the charts here).

It’s striking how often future classics were edged out by inferior competition.

For instance, ‘Vienna’ was beaten to number one by Joe Dolce’s toe-curling novelty dirge, ‘Shaddup You Face’ and James’s student disco perennial, ‘Sit Down’, had to watch from the sidelines as Chesney Hawkes’s ‘The One And Only’ whooshed to the summit of the charts. It’s a sobering lesson — in pop, as in life, sometimes it’s better to draw attention to yourself, rather than stay quiet and focus on quality.

But there’s a curious twist to this story, as RTÉ presenter and DJ, John Creedon, says. Often, these numbers-ones-that-never-were have a more bountiful after-life than the songs that surpassed them in the moment. For instance, who nowadays listens to Engelbert Humperdinck’s ‘Release Me’, the naff ballad that saw off never-bettered double single, ‘Penny Lane/Strawberry Fields Forever’?

“It strike me that number-twos have greater longevity,” Creedon says. “Number-ones get burned out. Consider a song such as Peter Starstedt’s ‘Where Do You Go To My Lovely?’ [number one in 1969]. It reaches saturation point — nobody wants to listen to it anymore. When a song loses its ‘elasticity’, through being over-stretched over time, it’s hard to get it back.

“In comparison, number-twos don’t receive constant exposure — when you go back to them, they seem fresh.”

Novelty chart-toppers are the curse of the pop purist, Creedon says. He cites ‘Shaddup You Face’. But Creedon is not entirely blameless when it comes to clogging up the charts with aural gunk. In his ’80s alter-ego, camp barber Terence, he had a number-one and a number-two single. He wonders if he shouldn’t feel more guilt.

“I have to concede I am one of those terrible novelties,” he says. “I probably kept Bob Dylan off number one.”

Perusing the countdown of classic number-twos, older readers may feel a shiver of nostalgia.

It’s a reminder of the days when the singles charts truly meant something, when they were a barometer of the nation’s musical tastes.

Nowadays, so-called ‘hits’ come and go without ever penetrating the popular consciousness — when Mark Ronson’s ‘Uptown Funk’ seized Christmas number-one from under the nose of X Factor winner Ben Haenow, for instance, who felt like celebrating this rare victory for ‘real’ music? Most of us scarcely noticed.

“The charts used to be very important,” says Creedon.

“It was akin to the Premier League. Everyone knew the league table — you were always aware who was on top. We all bought singles as kids — your musical tastes identified the tribe to which you belonged, whether you were a punk, or a goth, or into AC/DC and ZZ Top.”

Two’s Company: The best singles Never To Reach Number One

1 – Ultravox – ‘Vienna’, 1981 (Joe Dolce – ‘Shaddup You Face’)