CHART MUSIC

Chart Music #73: March 4th 1993 – Frank Bald

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; do we really have to hug? And rub-a-dub?

The Chart Music time sofa descends upon March of 1993, Pop-Crazed Youngsters – the Forgotten Nineties, if you will. A time where the only options available to The Kids were having their heads filled with rubbish by trampy Americans, or being exploited by Ian Beales in Hypercolor t-shirts who can’t play real music and want you to take loads of drugs. Your panel – ligging their way around London, ensconced in an Isleworth love nest and dealing with the misery of Gym Knickers, respectively – look back upon this strange perineum between Rave and Britpop, and have a tentative sniff at it

As for Our Favourite Thursday Evening Pop Treat, it’s currently weathering it’s 27^th crisis under the stewardship of Stanley Appel, two years removed from its Year Zero clearout. The good news is he’s been given carte blanche to put on whoever he likes. The bad news is, he’s only a few months away from his 60^th birthday, and there’s soon to be a new BBC1 controller in town who – according to rumour – is thinking about letting Janet Street Porter have a go.

Musicwise, it’s a reminder that everything is still up for grabs in the post-Neightnies musicsphere: Right Said Fred get the wind of BBC Star Power at their backs, which can be a bit uncomfortable when you’ve cut the arse out of your trousers. Lenny Kravitz is SuperMuso. After Some Rap, Brett Anderson gets dragged to the front of assembly to explain why he’s let the school down by singing too violently. Then it’s over to Hawaii to drop in on the Lower-Case Canadian, before she gets a shave off Cindy Crawford. Runrig make their TOTP debut, then Rage Against The Machine, fresh from getting Bruno Brookes suspended for a week, kick off the run of blipverts that passes for the Breakers section these days, which also takes in Bryan Ferry, The Jesus Lizard and Dead Madonna. Diana Ross and a Sexy Saxman appear on the set of a school play of Escape From New York, and we end with some sexy Belgian pinball action, all hosted by Mark Franklin, who was probably younger than you at the time, and still is.

Sarah Bee and Simon Price join Al Needham for a rummage under the sewn-on cushion on the Mastermind chair of 1993, veering off on such tangents as being mithered by members of Suede and Elastica at a student disco, why all snack wafers of the Eighties sound like Bryan Ferry LP titles, the Lesbian Elephant, Jonny Sex-Cat and the Accessible Gamesdog, Paintballing with Ride, and Al’s Secret Terror. SWEAR SWEAR, SWEAR-SWEAR SWEAR SWEAR, SWEAR-SWEAR SWEAR SWEAR, SWEAR-SWEAR THERE’S SOME SWEARING.

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Stanley Appel, Right Said Fred, Mark Franklin, Lenny Kravitz, Marxman

Part Three: Suede, kd lang, Runrig

Part Four: Rage Against The Machine, Bryan Ferry, The Jesus Lizard, Madonna, Diana Ross, 2 Unlimited

Chart Music #72: October 3rd 1985 – Rod Vicious

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; so how do you set fire to a trophy?

Like a man in a cage, we find ourselves trapped in the mid-Eighties, imprisoned in a lurid enclosure of neon and rolled sleeves and appalling Number Ones, with Gary Davies – fresh from a birthday party in a garage in Cumbria and looking well Bisto – in the Mr McKay role. Oh, it’s a grim time to be young, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, when the only thing the youth can look forward to is a Giro, a chance to see the frontwoman of All Her Looks in concert and – if you’re really lucky – landing a plum YTS gig, like Paul Jordan has. He’s making his debut tonight, and we try to work out who he actually was.

Musicwise, hmm. Colonel Abrams pops up to deliver a telegram which reads HOUSE IS COMING STOP. Bruce Dickinson paints Paul D’Anno out of history. A pre-codpiece Cameo make their ‘first-ever television debut’ (thanks, Paul). Then the BBC runs an advert for a film made by someone from the Cradle Of Pop, followed by a double-whammy of Our Bands. The best duo in Pop history whose name begins with ‘Rene And’ pitch up and pretend to be Prince. The Top Ten gets fisted by Billy Idol. Red Box asks us if we’ve heard the good news about Jesus. A Success Coat containing Midge Ure receives its sympathy #1, and The Kids (and City Farm) have a sensible jig to Five Star.

Simon Price and Rock Expert David Stubbs join Al Needham for a good snuffle around the crotch of 1985, pausing along the way to shill their new books, followed by frank discussions about sexual awakenings under a massive poster of Pete Burns, the lamentable tale of Stubbs The Sap, the Great Top Valley Pupil Insurrection of 1985, Fetish Sporrans, being stared at by Morrissey at Chippenham Goldiggers, Quincy Punks, a comprehensive breakdown of the Chicken Dance, and a disgraceful run-in midway through the episode. SWEARING.

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Gary Davies, Paul Jordan, Colonel Abrams, Iron Maiden

Part Three: Cameo, John Parr, The Smiths, The Cure, Rene & Angela

Part Four: Billy Idol, Red Box, Midge Ure, Five Star

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Chart Music #71: March 19th 1981 – Shaky Of The Dorm

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; Whoops Scotties, Tasty Tarts Foster Grants or Allied For Carpets For You?

Oh yes – it’s back to the Eighventies we go, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, to a year where everyone was loaded into a cannon and fired into the dress-up box, or so we’re led to believe. One look at Peter Powell – who has turned up looking like he’s booked a week’s holiday on a canalboat through Hoseasons – will remind you it wasn’t quite like that.

It’s a boom time for TOTP, is early ’81: they’re pulling down Crossroads-level ratings week after week and they’ve got the Music TV field entirely to themselves, but – as this episode demonstrates – we’re not in the Yellow Hurll era just yet, and there’s a lot of dead wood to clear out. And, as the bill of fare tonight demonstrates, the Seventies are not done quite yet.

Musicwise, it’s a proper melange of young and old. Sharon Redd tries to be sexually overpowering in front of a grim tableau of gormless youths in visors doing the hand jive. The true icon of 1981 – The Man of Denim – spells out his five-year plan to tackle the social housing crisis in a special filmed broadcast. A punk lad gets dead excited at the sight of someone taking the stage in a PiL t-shirt, only to discover that it’s Dave ‘No, The Other One’ Stewart.

The show takes a severe turn towards the elderly when The Who – fresh from their new LP being absolutely coated down in the music papers – followed by Legs & Co ‘neath a giant Scotch egg, and an encore performance of that paint pot on Phil Collins’ keyboard. But then! It’s the fresh, virile sound of Bucks Fizz in their first ever TOTP performance, followed by an actual video that looks like Proper 1981, by Strange The Clock. Duran Duran pop up for a repeat of their TOTP debut, and then, Oh God, it’s Toyah again, followed by Bryan Mirror and his new single, I Remember Johnny Lennon.

Neil Kulkarni and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham in order to throw some bricks and petrol bombs at 1981, pausing along the way to discuss Masonic tombolas, Grange Hill tube station, the career of The Who in egg form, the damage that the American Syd Little wrought upon the charts, and – unfortunately – Breakfast television-related masturbatory shame. SWEARING! AND A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT!

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Peter Powell, Sharon Redd, Shakin’ Stevens, Dave Stewart with Colin Blunstone

Part Three: The Who, Stevie Wonder, Phil Collins, Bucks Fizz

Part Four: Visage, Duran Duran, Toyah, Roxy Music

Get your tickets for Chart Music at the London Podcast Festival HERE

Chart Music #70: April 17th 1986 – The Rishi Sunak Of Top Of The Pops

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; has Rock Expert David Stubbs come from The Sky?

After all the lovely Pop trifle we’ve had in recent episodes, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, it’s time for some necessary roughage, as we take a tentative walk down Nineteen Eighty Six Street once more. And yes, it’s still one of the most rammel years for 20th Century Pop, but somehow we managed to find one which doesn’t have the whiff of the dog’s arse about it.

It’s only four months into ’86, but our Favourite Thursday Evening Pop Treat is having another of its regular crises, this time brought on by the after effects of Michael Grade taking over at BBC1 and pissing about with the scheduling, meaning that ten whole minutes have been lopped off, and the results are not pretty; everything has been crammed in like a Japanese tube train at knocking-off time, videos have been cut off at the knees, there’s a neon set better suited for a Miss Wet T-Shirt competition in Romeo & Juliet’s Doncaster and the chart rundown – the whole point of the show, mark you – has been utterly defiled.

Musicwise, it’s better than it has any right to be. Gary Davies – a man bursting with so much sexual potency in 1986 that the sex workers of Amsterdam are pitching themselves through windows to get at him – has been given the chance to run the show solo for the first time in years, but we don’t see that much of him, because there’s no time. Big Country pitch up in Success Coats. Michael Hurll practically rips the wig off Falco’s head and wipes his arse with it. A-Ha continue their spell as the premier teeny band and get creative with a bit of masking tape. Suzanne Vega gets judged by a poster of a German sex-colossus. And then, oh God, it’s the longest examination of a single EVER on Chart Music. Janet Jackson stares her ponce of a boyfriend out. It’s Immaterial look absolutely knackered and wonder why their label didn’t make a video. George Michael drops the weirdest Number One of the decade, and Whitney Houston spoils everything with a huge dollop of mawk.

Sarah Bee and Neil Kulkarni join Al Needham to gingerly pick through the wreckage of 1986, veering off on such tangents as Nick Ross’ Drug Buffet, Neil’s Gin and Vomit Shame, being mistaken for Pete Docherty’s stalker, the best way to tell an interview subject that their new album stinks of unwashed cock, how the Ukraine War would have utterly shagged up TOTP if it was still going, an appreciation of Euro-Ponces, how the BBC thought Bob Monkhouse, Barry Cryer and Nigel Havers could stop youths on dingy estates from taking heroin, and a huge Birmingham Piss Troll update. You know the swearing is going to be intense on this one…

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Gary Davies, Big Country, Falco, A-Ha

Part Three: Suzanne Vega, The Cast of Grange Hill

Part Four: Janet Jackson, It’s Immaterial, George Michael, Whitney Houston

*** Listen to Sarah’s new podcast HERE ***

Chart Music #69: December 27th 1974 – The Ramadan #1 Of 1974

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; have any of Team Chart Music done a streak?

It’s late January, but the inflatable Jimmy Savile-as-Santa is still hanging off the roof of the Chart Music house and the wreath that looks like DLT still hangs on the door as we prepare to tuck into another end-of-year splurge of Pop, as our favourite Thursday evening pop treat gets shunted to a Friday teatime and another Selection Box of the hits of the year gets ripped into.

‘Tis the arse-end of 1974, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, and a definitely end-of-era feel hangs over this episode. Glam is in its last knockings, the teenybop icons are starting to fade, the brickies in Eyeliner are just brickies now, Mock n’ Roll is in the ascendancy, the Pop Famine of 1975/6 is beckoning, and although there’s much to love here, this could well be the very last episode of the Golden Age of Top Of The Pops. Noel Edmonds and Dave Lee Travis are on hand to take us through the smash hits of the year that weren’t introduced by Tony Blackburn and Jinglenonce OBE on Xmas Day, and are fucking unbearable.

Musicwise, like all end-of-year shows, it’s your typical running-away-from-a-crocodile episode. The Rubettes pitch up for a victory lap with a flashing bow tie. John Denver goes on about his missus again, before he takes a chainsaw to their bed. Alvin displays the most amazing standwork ever on TOTP if you discount Brian Connolly breaking one over his knee, before George McCrae attempts to introduce the TOTP Orchestra to Disco as he stands over a leftover turkey carcass. Stephanie De Sykes represents the Kings Oak Massive, and then Sparks completely go off. The Glitter Band do a Nazi love gesture at Bad King Gary as he performs his great lost Number One. Sylvia tells a load of underaged Osmonds fans about how she got her end away in Spain this summer. Queen set down a marker for their dominance of the next few years. Ray Stevens fails to get his cock out. After Suzi Quatro says goodbye to the massive bluescreen, the most perfect #1 single EVER is desecrated by the TOTPO. Terry Jacks reminds us that he’s still dying, and we close with the Blokes Of Pop taking over and claiming dominance of the year, while Travis plays a Christmas Tree. So long, Early Seventies, you were MINT and SKILL and we’ll never see your like again.

Taylor Parkes and Rock Expert David Stubbs join Al Needham for a celebration of all things ’74, veering off on such tangents as blind West Ham left-backs, Noele Gordon’s musical career, five year-olds demanding to be let into sex shops, the era-defining genius of Yus My Dear, disturbing scenes at Wombles gigs, a re-imagining of Do They Know It’s Christmas written by Chinnichap, and the introduction of the parlour game that’s going to sweep the dinner parties of 2023 – Pantomime Horse. HAPPY NEW SWEARING, POP-CREAZED YOUNGSTERS…

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Noel Edmonds, Dave Lee Travis, The Rubettes, John Denver, Alvin Stardust, George McCrae

Part Three: Stephanie De Sykes, Sparks, Gary Glitter, Sylvia, Queen

Part Four: Ray Stevens, Suzi Quatro, Carl Douglas, Terry Jacks, Mud

Chart Music #68: May 1st 1980 – The Ken Of The Eighventies

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; have any of Chart Music ever had to deal with a Hard Lovin’ Woman?

As listeners to the World’s Greatest Podcast About Middle-Aged Hacks Banging On About Old Episodes Of Top Of The Pops, you’ll be fully aware of the general consensus on Nineteen Eighty, Pop-Crazed Youngsters; that it was the trough between the stratospheric peaks of ’79 and ’81. But in this episode, the case for the defence is comprehensively laid out, and if you’re here for the coat-downs, you’re going to be disappointed, because this episode is a bit SKILL.

We’re on the cusp of the Great Pop Famine of 1980 – which cost us six issues of NME and MM each and nine portions of our Favourite Thursday Evening Fizzy Pop Treat – and into the final month of the reign of Robin Nash. But although he’s on his way out, he’s already attempted to drag the show into the Aydeez by raiding the petty cash till for a new set – including a gun tower – and giving a debut cap to the Vicar of Rock himself, a 39 year-old Tommy Vance, who immediately puts himself about and makes a good account of himself, with one or two exceptions.

Musicwise,it’s a broad and diverse spread of 1980 fare. Leon Haywood gives the youth some timely advice about pegging. New Musik finally get their moment on Chart Music. There’s a chance to see American Pipou on Soul Train. The Chords represent the Mod Revival by disguising themselves as Generation X, before we’re hit by a megablast of Dadisfaction broadcast live from Bodie and Doyle’s living room. Then it’s a one-two-three punch of RRRROCKK from Whitesnake, Saxon and Motörhead, interrupted by Errol Brown’s mashed potato-mountain of a single, an obligatory dollop of the Nolans, another chance for us to drool over the Beat, Kate Bush being a clingfilm foetus, and a thrilling Number One where the Kids get hit in the face with a holdall, which they deserve for being so sullen and bovine.

Simon Price and Neil Kulkarni join Al Needham for a rampage through the middle of the Eighventies, and the tangents come thick and fast, including the correct way to modify a Harrington, the Nagasaki Hellblaster, Skinhead Discos, which living room accoutrements would make the best weapons against a home invasion of Street Punks, how Sham 69 got their name, tales of Machete Max, was Lemmy the Father Seamus Fitzpatrick of Metal, and the introduction of The BPT. SWEARING!

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Tommy Vance, Leon Haywood, New Musik, Narada Michael Walden, The Chords, Rodney Franklin

Part Three: Whitesnake, Jimmy Ruffin, Saxon, Hot Chocolate, Motörhead

Part Four: The Nolans, The Beat, Kate Bush, Dexys Midnight Runners, Johnny Logan

Chart Music #67½: May 17th 1977 – The Nationwide Jubilee Song Contest

In the last episode of Chart Music, we broke down Nationwide’s Jubilee Fair – an astonishing melange of forelock-tuggery, Trad Jazz and moaning that things were better when we had an empire and National Service, which offered its viewers both an opportunity to revel in the past and a chance to experience what it was going to be like in the entertainment room of a care home in the future. But we stopped short of mentioning one thing: the ending, where the winner of the Nationwide Jubilee Song Contest got the chance to reprise their tune. And we’ve seen the final – 15 and a bit minutes of musical astonishment.

So, let us take you back to the post-teatime haze of Thursday May 17th 1977, as the hundreds of musical tributes to the Queen have been whittled down to five, and a nation – or at least, the part of it who isn’t watching Crossroads – baits its breath for a Jubular soundclash of monumental proportions.

Eric Smallshaw of Eccles gets the party started with a sultry Lancastro-Cuban call to Rhumbic Bacchanalia. The youth of Hucklow First School, Sheffield, praise the Queen with balalaikas for her ability to get on a massive boat and go around the world. Richard Gwyn and Cameo let an entire Principality down with their ‘rocking’ music. The Farringdon Infants School of Sunderland produce an indecipherable dirge of xylophone-bonging and recorder-blaring. And the Singing Butcher and the Coventry Kids shout their fealty to the Monarchy in a way that only 70s youths and a ginger meat-man can. But who will win? Only Richard Stilgoe knows…

Team ATVLand – Neil Kulkarni, Taylor Parkes and Al Needham – sit down and tuck into one of the most gloriously mental slivers of British TV we’ve ever come across, breaking off to discuss Other People’s Children, the Hexham Heads, the difference between United and City fans, the Asian Jubilee Song Contest, and lifeboat crews rescuing a rugby ball in tribute to the Queen, or summat. SHIMMY AND SHAKE TO THE NUMBER, POP-CRAZED YOUNGSTERS!

See all acts – and the voting – HERE

Chart Music #67: June 9th 1977 – God Save Chart Music

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; are the Wurzels going to float in an eternal hellscape of bodily waste and toenails for singing about turning bulls gay?

This episode would have been perfect for the other month while Shakin’ Jubilee was occurring – but no matter, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, because we’re going right back to the apogee of the Silby Joobs, which no-one ever said in 1977 because people weren’t as rubbish as they are today. Flags! Bunting! Street parties! Massive patriotic Yorkshire puddings! Blatant chart-rigging! Your hosts are a) giving thousand-yard stares over some sausage rolls and praying that their father isn’t going to run off with a Characterful Dad in a dress and some balloons up their shirt, b) communing with nature with a Jubilee coin in their grubby paw and c) watching some Caledonian ultra-violence outside a pub and pretending to be asleep under a Union Jack listening to their Dad banging on about Elvis again, but they all unite on Thursday evening to witness Tony Blackburn – who has just invented Fathers 4 Justice – introduce a decidedly mixed bag of Pop treats.

Musicwise, it’s a veritable trifle of Pop, layered with West Midlands Safari Park Hi-Life, Ormskirk Americana, Southampton Funk, and a thick, satisfying custard of Black American Pop. Frankie Miller pulls a mic stand about. The Pips warm up for a night at the rollerdisco. The Stranglers piss about and stomp on someone’s fingers. Demis Roussos lies to us about an island. Neil Innes drags TOTP into 1982. Legs & Co have to make something up on the spot. Bob Marley celebrates Jubilee week by telling us that Britain is rammel and we should clear out as soon as possible. The Wurzels bring us another unflinching examination of rural life. And we get ‘treated’ to Little Rabbit Arse. But there’s an elephant in bondage trousers in the room, isn’t there?

Neil Kulkarni and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham for a gargantuan street party of critical analysis, with tangents ahoy – including a trawl through the Nationwide Jubilee Fair, 35 hours of Triangle, Demis Roussos’ £30,000 bed, Retirement Pop, the dark link between the Wurzels and the Radio 1 Roadshow, and cycling tips from Simon Bates’ massive floating head. If you’re a fan of the Monarchy, best skip the first hour – and yes, swearing a –plenty…

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Tony Blackburn, Osibisa, ELO, Berni Flint, Frankie Miller

Part Three: The Wurzels, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Neil Innes, The Stranglers, Demis Roussos, Honky

Part Four: The Jacksons, Bob Marley and the Wailers, The Sex Pistols, Rod Stewart, ELP

*** Get your tickets for our live show HERE ***

Chart Music #66: March 15th 1990 – De La Stoke

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; has anyone ever lost their virginity while listening to a Jive Bunny record?

It’s the long-awaited return of Our Sarah and Taylor after their encounter with the Spiteful Armoured Bollock, Pop-Crazed Youngsters – and to welcome them back, Al allowed them to pick out an episode. Consequently, we’re heading deep into the heart of the Neighties. Your panel are a) being Arthur Seaton in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning without the sex, b) hovering over the pause button during the Top 40, and c) playing Human Frogger on the way to a Blue Boar, while the music scene is awash with flares! Pob faces! That dance where you look like you’re walking on a bouncy castle with a pint in each hand! Ridiculously misplaced optimism! And BLEDDEH DRUGS, of course!

Musicwise, crikey: we’re promised a Rock n’ Roll episode by Simon Mayo, who looks absolutely shagged out having been up since 5am, but the overriding theme tonight is British people finally coming to terms with dance music whilst plundering as much of the late Sixties as possible. Wayne Hussey warms up for his date with James Whale with some Pub Goth. New Kids On The Block do something pointless and futile with a basketball. Candy Flip – the Jedward of Madchester – cause the Kids to hysterically scream as if John Lennon had ripped himself from the grave and turned up at the studio to have it out with them. The B-52s have a better night out than you. Big Fun, Fish and Wet Wet Wet get about 20 seconds each. Bobby Omnishake prances like an absolute tit, everyone whoops at an Inspiral Carpets suicide anthem, Jive Bunny throws down some hardcore Dad-Hop, Quentin fancies Lindy I.D.S.T., and we get some actual House music at the end. For about 30 seconds.

Sarah Bee and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham for a clinically intensive rummage through the Spring of 1990, veering off on such tangents as a comprehensive drill-down into Mike Read’s Heritage Chart, what not to do when cleaning out a Fleshlight, the Stone Roses/New Kids war in the Smash Hits letters page, Showaddywaddy’s Bloods/Crips dilemma, how the Martians wisely self-isolated and wore masks for a couple of years, and some remarkably graphic sex talk. And swearing!

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Simon Mayo, The Mission, New Kids On The Block, Candy Flip

Part Three: The B-52’s, Big Fun, Fish, Wet Wet Wet, Primal Scream

Part Four: Inspiral Carpets, Jive Bunny, Beats International, 49ers

Chart Music #65: July 8th 1982 – Dancey Reagan

The latest episode of the podcast which asks; if Steve Miller is in a consensual relationship, and keeps away from certain designated areas, and he’s not just doing it to show off in front of his mates, is it acceptable in today’s society to reach out and grab her?

This episode, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, sees your panel – who are currently toting huge consignments of heroin around Leeds, swiftly climbing up the class system of Coventry and still getting over the terror of finding someone’s undergarments in a sex-grafitti’d public toilet in St Pancras station – on the horns of a dilemma; on one hand, a premium-strength episode of Yellow Hurll-era TOTP. On the other, a World Cup semi-final. The latter doesn’t kick off until we’re 30 minutes into this episode, but at what point do our heroes break and succumb to the boot-on-ball surrender? And will Al have to watch all of this on a black-and-white portable with a coat hanger for an ariel, or will his Dad slink off to the pub and let him watch it downstairs?

Musicwise, it’s a game of two halves, with two landmark events occurring and a blizzard of Huge Eighties Things being introduced to us for the first time ever. Imagination are at the top of their flouncy, slinky game. Bruno’s Dad lamps someone for ripping a speaker off his cab. Jeffrey Daniel reprises the Starman Moment of the Eighties and makes the Weetabix throw their Doc Martens in a skip. AC/DC get their cannons muffled. But just when you think this could be greatest TOTP episode ever, Jonathan King crashes in like Toni Schumacher on Patrick Battiston in order to curl off another dollop of rubbish American rammel (although he introduces the UK to Mr T. And Deeleyboppers)

But then! Out of nowhere come the Good Germans – Trio – who produce one of the greatest TOTP performances ever, followed by Odyssey slamming home one of the greatest singles ever, and all is well. But oh dear, that ‘3’ button is about to take a hammering as Bananarama pitch up in big nappies, Bucks Fizz take time out from bombing the Ruhr to cheat on each other, Captain Sensible ducks out of the pub to pretend to be the bastard son Worzel Gummidge and Toyah, and some magicians do their underwhelming pieces to the Steve Miller Band. Everything astoundingly life-affirmingly right and groin-punchingly wrong about early-Eighties TOTP is here, and it gets picked over in the usual manner.

Rock Expert David Stubbs and Neil Kulkarni join Al Needham for a dance on the car roof of 1982, veering off on such tangents as being nestled against Mr C’s packet, the Line-dancing community of Birmingham, being at a loss about what to say to Jimi Hendrix, wondering what ‘Eagle Farm Today’ actually means, and Top Of The Pops getting Bobby Gee to fight some swans in a cage in a desperate attempt to keep watching BBC1. And all that lovely swearing, too!

Part One: Preamble

Part Two: Kid Jensen, Imagination, Irene Cara, Shalamar

Part Three: AC/DC, Jonathan King, Juice Newton, Survivor, John Cougar, The Human League, Trio

Part Four: Odyssey, Bananarama, Bucks Fizz, Captain Sensible, The Steve Miller Band

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