Top of the Pops: 27th October, 1977.

David Bowie was supposed to be on tonight's show but,
thanks to the Dave Lee Travis thing, wasn't.
Poor David. He must be wondering if he'll ever get to appear
on Top of the Pops.
Meanwhile, here is is in 1974, by AVRO
(Beeld En Geluid Wiki - Gallerie: Toppop 1974)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Well, it's all been a right old kerfuffle, with tonight's planned edition being pulled, thanks to the Dave Lee Travis arrest.

But, undeterred by such shocks and surprises, I'm here and raring to go.

Can David Kid Jensen pull off a coup and be the first Top of the Pops presenter not to get arrested at an inconvenient moment?

Only the next half hour can tell.

 And we kick off with Santana doing She's Not There.

Who's doing the singing on this? I assume it's not Carlos.

Is it Colin Blunstone? It sounds like him.

And this week's obligatory Rock and Roll revivalists are...

...Slade!

But not looking or sounding like Slade.

Noddy of course still sounds like Noddy. Even in these days of the much-lauded New Rock, some things don't change.

They seem to be doing My Baby Left Me. That's All Right.

They're doing it competently enough but is this really what we want to hear from our favourite Wolverhampton foot-stompers?

Dave's gone bald. Is this an attempt to jump on that New Music bandwagon that's sweeping the land?

Definitely not trying to jump on that bandwagon is Mary Mason who's here to treat us to her version of Any Way That You Want Me.

She doesn't look very happy.

Was this from a musical?

Whatever it's from, it's not grabbing me.

It's turned into Angel Of The Morning but I'm still not getting into it.

Massive eyelashes cast humongous shadows across her face, like the legs of giant, eyeball-eating spiders.

And now it's all gone Cilla Black.

Learning nothing from recent scandals, Kid's with a zillion young girls.

And now Darts are here with Daddy Cool.

I did always feel Darts should have been the cast of Blake's 7. Somehow you could see them pulling it off.

A man's playing a guitar solo on his saxophone, which takes some doing.

And now Den Heggarty's getting stuck in.

He still looks like Beaker from the Muppets.

But forget Muppets - because Ram Jam are back, and being danced to by Legs and Co.

Incited by such wild music, they're going for it, the brazen hussies.

Lots of hair flinging.

Fists in your face from one of them

And now Kid's back, with yet more young girls.

Possibly, I think, singing about the more mature woman, it's Rod Stewart and You're In My Heart.

What a lovely song this is - one of those tracks, like Nobody Does It Better, that you could only imagine coming out in 1977.

And he's, so far, resisted the urge to ruin it by waving his bum in our face.

But who was the big bosomed lady with the Dutch accent? It can't have been Britt Ekland. That wouldn't make any sense at all.

And just what are Celtic United?

You have to hand it to him, only Rod Stewart could do a tender love song that massed ranks could wave their scarves along to.

Now it's Boney M and Belfast.

I do always feel this track was somewhat of a mistake.

Leaving aside the fact it's got to be one of the dullest hits they ever had - and its optimism for the city proved hopelessly premature - does anyone really want to see Boney M tackling social politics of the day?

And, speaking of people who should be in Blake's 7, what on Earth are they wearing? Let's be honest, nothing says, "The Troubles," more than dressing up like something from Star Maidens From Outer Space.

The truth is, I'm getting bored listening to it, and I can't usually say that about Boney M.

No reason to be bored next - because it's Tom Robinson, making his debut with 2-4-6-8 Motorway.

Is it my imagination? The show's volume seems to have dropped noticeably for Tom.

I must admit, despite my liking for the record, this seems a workmanlike performance and he's coming across like an English teacher trying to convince his class he's a punk star.

People who didn't need to convince anyone of anything are on next, as ABBA give us The Name of The Game.

I love this song. I love this video. When it comes to ABBA, they're both the virtual definition of quintessential.

Is that Ludo they're playing? You don't get enough Ludo in modern pop.

And now it's Smokey Robinson with what Kid tells us is the theme from The Big Time.

He doesn't mean that Esther Rantzen show, does he? The one that discovered Sheena Easton?

It's not very interesting, whatever it is.

The audience looking riveted by Smokey's performance.

He's brought his band with him but he seems to have forgotten to bring a song with him.

Kid's back with more girls.

Kid's flirting with one of them.

And Baccara are somehow at Number 1.

It's that same terrible performance we seem to have had inflicted on us every week for months now.

Is it me or is the drummer not quite in time?

Then again I once read a thing in a newspaper, where a Classical musicologist said the secret of the Beatles' greatness was Ringo never quite drumming in time, so perhaps Baccara were shrewder than we might have thought.

Oh my God, it's Peter Powell, Radio 1's newest recruit!

Oh my God, it's the Sex Pistols and Holidays In The Sun!

Like the sneakiest of sneaky devils, the show leaves its two big dramatic reveals till right at the end!

What a mixed bag that all was, with probably the least memorable record Slade ever unleashed on the 1970s public, Tom Robinson's debut and the shock arrival of Peter Powell and the Sex Pistols. Overall, despite Mary Mason, Smokey Robinson and Baccara, I generally approved of it.

And no one got arrested. Which, let's face it, these days, is the most important thing on a music show.

Top of the Pops: 6th October, 1977.

Yes in concert, in 1977 by Rick Dikeman (Own work)
[GFDL or CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Those who follow me on Twitter know that, over the last few days, I've become increasingly obsessed with the back-catalogue of David Essex.

So, it's clear my musical taste's in fine fettle for the task ahead.

Also no doubt in fine fettle is Noel Edmonds who kicks it all off by making a baffling comment about things being black.

At first I assume its because the first few artists pictured on the chart rundown are all black. Why Noel should seek to draw attention to this, I don't know.

But then it then becomes apparent that Noel hasn't joined the Ku Klux Klan since we last saw him. He was merely referring to the track that's playing over the rundown.

Sadly, so bad is my memory as I enter old age that I can't remember who it's by even though they were only on last week.

But even my crumbling memory can't forget Smokie - mostly because they seem to be on every edition.

And so it is that they return, with Needles and Pins which Noel declares to be a classic.

Next it's the Emotions with Best of My Love.

Is that the Soul Train set I detect?

It is. Which means there's going to be plenty of dancing, not least from the Emotions who have a peculiarly jerky dance style that's somewhat shown up by the much cooler groovings of the audience.

As always, each member of the audience only has one actual dance move, which he/she repeats endlessly as though powered by clockwork.

Now it's Danny Mirror.

At first I make the fool's mistake of thinking I've never heard of him...

...but then he opens his mouth and I realise at once that I have heard of him.

For it is he who inflicted the song I Remember Elvis Presley on us.

As Elvis Presley was Number 1 only last week, it's not that great a feat of recall on Danny's part - but then I can't remember the names of acts who were on last week, so maybe I should cut him some slack.

But it does show how the mind plays tricks on one. I always remembered this as having been done by Les Gray of Mud.

"He's just a golden mammary," sings Danny. And, with his attempts to replicate The King's voice and random chunks of his hits, Danny's clearly determined to milk that mammary for all it's worth.

I hated this song at the time and I hate it now.

And now it's Legs and Co dancing to something.

It sounds suspiciously like the hirsute man the world in 1977 knows only as Giorgio.

And it is, with From Here to Eternity. It might be a million years old now but it's still a stunningly cool record.

Legs are waving lots of tin foil around. No doubt in the hopes of thwarting the radar of any World War Two bombers that might still be around.

Thwarting none but the forces of punk are Yes who are on with Wonderous Stories.

This song is the first I ever heard of Yes and it's one of those tracks I most strongly associate with 1977.

As we quickly see, Yes meet the challenge of punk head-on by completely ignoring it.

Someone else paying no lip service at all to punk is Deniece Williams, back with a song which seems to be called Baby Baby My Love's All For You, with which I've been previously unfamiliar. That's a shame as it seems quite pleasant but possibly no more than workwomanlike.

The Stranglers are back with No More Heroes.

And now Baccara are Bacc. They're as breathy as ever and they're still what can only be labelled, "Vocally challenged."

And now Steve Gibbons is back with a song in the same vein as his last hit.

As always, he's got his tightest leather trousers on but, frankly, this is a bit rubbish. Despite Steve's best efforts, it has no oomph to it at all.

Not that David Soul cares about oomph. Although displaying a total lack of that quality, he's at Number 1 with you-know-what song. He's still in that video and he's still not cheered up.

But now Noel's with a woman and doing a link that's got me totally baffled. It seems her name's Kim and she has a record out but he doesn't say what it is or let her speak. It seems to be some sort of in-joke but I'm oblivious to its in-ness.

We play out with Leo Sayer who's still got thunder in his heart.

In retrospect, I can't help feeling this week's show struggled to get going. I appreciated the Stranglers of course, as I always do, but it was a performance we've already seen before and I can't think of anything else that grabbed me. Even Smokie failed to work the magic they so often have.

In the end, the totally Zeitgeist deficient Yes were probably my highlight, which says it all about the strange failure of the edition to fully grip the handles of my nostalgia.

Top of the Pops: 22nd September, 1977.

The Boomtown Rats' Bob Geldof
by Helge Øverås (Own work)
[CC-BY-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Thanks to circumstances in the dim and distant future, the show may have hit rocky waters in recent weeks - but never fear, because Dave Lee Travis is here to keep things wholesome.

Straight away we're hit with the inevitable Magic Fly. In fact, I do believe the song was actually re-titled The Inevitable Magic Fly halfway through its chart run, to take its Top of the Pops ubiquity into account.

All sensible human beings love the record, of course but I am starting to wonder if someone in the band was related to the Director General. This has to be the eleventeenth week running they've been on.

From a band we know so well, to one I've never heard of. And if I had I'm sure I'd remember, as they go by the unwieldy but distinctive title of Hank the Knife and the Jets.

I don't like to be cruel but, so far, it's reminding me of Russ Abbott's attempts at rock and roll on his comedy show.

It also sounds like they're trying to jump on the Mud bandwagon three years after it left town.

There's some interesting Duane Eddyness on guitar.

There's some more Duane Eddyness on guitar.

In fact, I'd be so bold as to say there's too much Duane Eddyness for the good of a single record.

It's all over and, despite Hank and his guitarist's best efforts, I have to give it a thumbs-down I'm afraid.

DLT's back, accompanied by two young females. It's strange how everything that happens on the show seems to take on an oddly sinister air now.

Someone no one could ever label sinister are on next because it's La Belle Epoque and Black Is Black.

This is more like it. You can't beat a good bit of Boney M style Euro disco.

Well, as it turns out, you can. It's all pleasant but somehow lacks the M's magic. It also, for some reason, makes me think of Eruption and how much better than this their big hit was.

Packing more spirit than you can shake a stick at are the Stranglers, back with what has to be their greatest achievement - and one of the late 1970s' greatest records - No More Heroes.

It's a much more focused performance than their Go Buddy one. None of that messing around for them this time, just unalloyed stroppiness.

Showing no stroppiness at all, Legs and Co arrive to accompany The Best Of My Love by someone. DLT did tell us who it was but I missed it.

Is it me or are those tops dangerously see-through?

And yet, strangely, you can't see through them.

And I say that as someone who's sat three inches away from the screen.

It's almost over, and DLT's joined them on stage.

He's chasing one of them.

Oh dear. He's not doing the show's reputation any favours right now.

Leo Sayer's back with Thunder In My Heart. According to Dave, I'm going to love it.

I suspect I might not.

Still, I like to be nothing if not open-minded, and so I shan't pass judgement until it's over.

Leo's roaming around a seaside resort that I don't recognise. I'm going to assume it's either Brighton or Margate but have no reason whatsoever to think it's either.

Wherever he is, Leo really does sound like he's being strangled.

A helter skelter! Helter skelters are looming large in my life right now, for reasons I can't go into.

But Leo's gone and I can confirm that I did indeed not enjoy it..

DLT probably doesn't care about that.

Why?

Because he's back  with another young woman.

And now there's two more young women, as Baccara appear, with Yes Sir, I can Boogie.

They're borrowing Donna Summer's groaning.

Frankly, this is terrible. It'd be nice to say it has a kitsch charm but it doesn't. It's just dull, thinly sung and pointless.

Dave's back with two more young women.

The Boomtown Rats are back - without young women - and still Looking After Number 1.

Bob does look surprisingly neat and tidy for this performance.

I spot pogo-ing in the audience. This gives me great pleasure.

Dave's back.

With another young woman.

And another young woman appears. It's Meri Wilson doing her novelty hit Telephone Man.

I always wanted a phone like that. I wonder if you can still get them?

I hated this song at the time and I hate it now. It really is is dreary.

In fact, I'm bored already.

But, suddenly, we get a shock.

Because Dave Lee Travis isn't with a young woman.

He introduces us to Stardust, yet another act I've never heard of.

The singer seems to be a cross between Stan Boardman and a jar of marmalade.

They might be Swedish and therefore could be cruelly labelled the band that ABBA could have been if no one had liked them but they actually sound more like that lot who were on last week - the ones who'd been in the Strawbs.

Just to up the ante dramatically, Dave Lee Travis is back with four young women.

Elvis Presley doesn't care about that. He's still dead and still at Number 1 - two things that tend to make one oblivious to scandal.

And we play out with a track by Stevie Wonder that I'm totally incapable of identifying. Whatever it is, it sounds quite appealing. And I say that as someone who's not a natural fan of Stevie.

To be honest, tonight's show wasn't what could be called a cracker.

In fact, it was pretty sub-par, with the highlight being the Stranglers and the low-light being Stardust. Too many acts had a tired, dated or over-familiar feel to them. And, yet, too many felt deservedly unfamiliar. The warming ray of light cast upon us a couple of weeks ago feels already like a false dawn and we can only hope things liven up next week.