Top of the Pops: 8th December, 1977.

Bing Crosby in 1942,
(Public Domain) via Commons Wikimedia.

For one whose heart is as hard as mine, Christmas is always horrific. But it's just got worse - because I now have to review two editions in one evening, instead of one.

Needless to say, I shall meet the dread challenge head-on by totally ignoring it and covering the latter episode on some other day.

But what of tonight? What tinselly magic can Tony Blackburn sprinkle upon us as we fire ourselves up for the Festive Season?

The first piece of magic he can weave is turning winter into summer as Donna of that name does the chart countdown with probably my fave track by her; Love's Unkind.

Sadly, we barely get to hear any of it before we meet the night's opening act.

And it's a bunch of people who look suspiciously like Billy Idol and Generation X though I can't claim to have ever heard the song before. In fact, I didn't know they'd ever bothered the chart compilers before about 1980.

You can say what you like about Billy Idol but he really was the new Cliff Richard and, to be honest, this actually manages to make Cliff sound like the voice of youthful rebellion.

Billy keeps saying it's wild but the reality is it's not.

A raised eyebrow from Tony, as it ends, tells us all we need to know about what he thought of it.

Hot Chocolate are back with that song no one remembers and has a title that makes no sense.

I don't care what anyone says, I still like it.

It's mean, moody and magnificent.

According to Tony, the next track's by Chick, though, to my ears, they sound remarkably like Chic.

They're being danced to by Legs and Co who're wearing as little as they can get away with.

They're followed by Manfred Mann's Earth Band, with a song I've never heard before.

It's not hard to see why, as it's not exactly what you could call electrifying.

It'd be easy to say it's why Punk had to happen but, to be honest, it's more like why Bucks Fizz had to happen.

Bonnie Tyler's back with her Hard Egg.

"Love him till your arms break," croaks Bonnie, suggesting she struggles to tell the difference between love and self-destructive lunacy.

The Bee Gees are back for what seems like the millionth time, with How Deep Is Your Love?

And Graham Parker's back with the New York Shuffle. It's amazing how many times he got on the show despite never having had any actual hits.

Although I was a fan of Graham at that time, this song doesn't do anything for me. I do prefer it when he's being contemptuous about things.

Next it's The Banned who fail at the first hurdle by not actually being banned. It would appear the song's called Little Girl, which, with all that's being going on lately, means it's a miracle they've made the final cut.

Are these one of those groups who were famous under another guise - like Yellow Dog were really Fox without Noosha? They have that sort of air about them.

Whoever they are, they're truly dreadful.

But, Hooray! At last Macca's with us, and Mull of Kintyre has claimed its rightful spot as the UK's Number 1.

Paul's still on the fence.

He still scarpers the moment Linda shows up.

The pipers are still on that beach.

And then, with no warning whatsoever, it's all gone Wicker Man on us as everyone in the village gathers for the bonfire.

That's the magic of Macca for you. Just as you think he's being banal, he pulls the rug from under you by setting fire to Edward Woodward.

And, blimey, wouldn't you know it, Boney M are on again with Belfast, on the play-out. Someone at Top of the Pops clearly liked it.

It has to be said, it wasn't a vintage week. In fact, it was rubbish and, if not for Wings and Hot Chocolate, I'd say it had virtually nothing to distinguish it.

And, maybe I wasn't paying enough attention but where exactly was Bing Crosby, as promised in the listings? Did they really cut him out to make way for The Banned?

Top of the Pops: 24th November, 1977.

Mull of Kintyre lighthouse by Steve Partridge
[CC-BY-SA-2.0],  via Wikimedia Commons

This is it. I have my bagpipes plugged in, my sporran in my hand and I'm all revved up for what I believe is set to be a historic show.

It certainly is - because we kick off with Boney M single-handedly sorting out Northern Ireland for what seems to be the ninth week running. I do like to feel Bobby was hoping to dance the IRA into submission.

Sadly, we don't get to see him do so, as we only get to hear The M over the chart rundown.

That done with, it's some people who've been watching too much Bay City Rollers and listening to too much Beach Boys, trying to cash in what I assume was the skateboard craze.

Whoever they are, I do get the feeling the skateboard craze has arrived five years too late for their hopes of stardom. They look like they've been locked in a cupboard since 1974 and have only just escaped it.

Hold on a moment! That drummer's not the bloke who used to be in Flintlock and The Tomorrow People is it? Mike Holoway, was he called? If it is him, suddenly, whoever these people, are my feelings towards them have warmed instantly and I hope they have many chart hits for years to come. I can wish nothing but good to a Tomorrow Person.

From a Tomorrow Person to the Yesterday man. Because - hooray! - it's Wings. It's that song. It's that video. It's that farmhouse.

I don't care how uncool it is to say so, I'll admit it right here and now. I love this song. It's one of the greatest melodies ever written, it wipes the floor with 99% of punk records and I'm tempted to whip out my guitar and join in.

Linda's appeared from the farmhouse and Paul's suddenly doing a runner. Stop running away from Linda, Paul. She might have a veggie burger for you.

The pipe band have appeared. On the beach. Forget Bohemian Rhapsody. This is the greatest video in history.

"Sweep through the heather." Don't mention heather, Paul.

Disgracefully, Macca's faded-out long before we get to hear his shouty bit - and we're off from Scotland to Wales.

That's because it's Bonnie Tyler with It's A Hard Egg.

I'm getting a bit bored with it now. I want Wings back.

Instead I get Darts, with Daddy Cool. It's all very energetic but this is the millionth time they've been on doing it. I'm starting to want a new song from them.

Kid's back.

He's trying to strangle a female audience member.

Leo Sayer's on with a song I have no recollection of.

It seems to be called There Isn't Anything.

This is quite pleasant. It's exactly like you'd expect a Leo Sayer song to sound. And it's got exactly the video you'd expect a Leo Sayer song to have. Was this from his TV show? It has the air of something that would be.

Leo's gone and Legs and Co are with us, dancing to Jonathan Richman's Egyptian Reggae, which isn't actually reggae at all, is it?

However you classify it, it's giving Flick Colby the chance to hit new heights of choreographic literalism, with everyone dressed up Cleopatra style.

And now we get the full power of Flick's genius as, for no good reason, a panto camel appears.

What a mighty beast that is. No wonder it can survive for weeks in the desert.

Was this song the inspiration for Fleetwood Mac's Tusk? There are noticeable similarities between the two tracks.

Flick's flung herself fully into madness, as the camel launches into a tap-dance.

Having seen that performance, I do feel all women should be forced to dress like Cleopatra and all men should be forced to dress as a camel.

Hot Chocolate are back, with Put Your Love In Me.

This is another one I've not heard of.

I didn't think it was possible to not have heard of a 1970s Hot Chocolate single.

Interesting chord change.

Actually, it's turned out I have heard this before. I just didn't recognise it till it hit the chorus. This is all rather fabby and disco and vaguely Cerrone.

Speaking of fabby disco groovers, it's another helping of the Bee Gees and How Deep Is Your Love?

And next it's someone called Larry Gomez with Santa Esmeralda doing Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood. Fair play to him, he's doing his best, whoever he is but, sadly, I fear the total uselessness of both him and his dancers means his efforts will prove to be in vain.

ABBA are still Number 1 with Name of the Game.

And we play out with the Jacksons and Going Places. A Jacksons song I recognise. Will wonders never cease?

It's going on a bit. Were they running short this week?

So that's it. The edition when we first saw the future biggest-selling single in British history. I have to say I didn't feel the show as a whole caught light this week. There were two many tracks we've heard before, acts we'd never hear from again, and Mull of Kintyre was cut short. Still, we did at least get to see the moment when Flick Colby's brain finally sprung a leak and undiluted madness poured out. Let's be honest if you don't want to see that from Top of the Pops, what do you want to see?

Top of the Pops: 31st March, 1977.

Lynsey De Paul by AVRO
(Beeld En Geluid Wiki - Gallerie: Toppop 1973)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

A week; it's a long time in politics but nothing compared to a fortnight in popular music. What massive changes'll have swept through British musical culture in the two weeks since the last edition of everyone's favourite music show? What new musical empires'll have risen, and which will have fallen?

Only Diddy David Hamilton can tell us. For it is he who's to guide us tonight through the brave new world of pop we're set to encounter.

I do feel sorry for the first act on each week because they never get an introduction. It must've been hugely frustrating; you get your big break, appearing on TOTP, excited about the huge boost it's going to lend your career, and then no one has a clue who you are because you weren't introduced.

This week has to be a perfect case in point because I don't have a Scooby who the opening act are. They seem quite easy-going - a bit Smokie but without their charisma, or the self-confidence that comes from having been on virtually every week since the dawn of time.

Whoever they are, their song seems to be called Capture Your Heart and, lack of introduction aside, they seem quite pleased to be there.

But why do I have a feeling they were to never be there again?

Apparently they were Blue. Amazing to think that Blue were around back in the 1970s - though Antony Costa's clearly changed a lot since then.

Now it's Billy Ocean and Red Light Spells Danger. He seems to be going for the world record for the size of collars and cuffs a man can support before the sheer weight of them renders him immobile.

Legs and Co are on next, dancing to David Soul and This Time I'm Going In With My Eyes Open.

The last time I saw skirts like that they were on one of those dolls that boarding house landladies used to use to cover up toilet rolls.

In a shock twist, David Dundas is back, out to prove he had more than one hit in him.

He has a very strange look on his face,

On the strength of this and his last one, I do get the feeling he was the Mungo Jerry of his day.

It's all quite Eurovision.

Which leads us perfectly into Lynsey De Paul and Mike Moran, flying the flag for Blighty, with Rock Bottom. It can't be easy having a rock bottom - especially if you have Dave Edmunds' rock piles.

But it shows how the memory plays tricks on you. I remember talking about this in the playground at primary school, which is impossible as it didn't come out until I was in secondary school.

I know people love her and she has the most popular mole outside of Wind In The Willows but I always felt there was something vaguely sinister about Lynsey de Paul, a feeling that refuses to go away.

I would say there's something sinister about Mike Moran but there isn't.

This always reminds me of a Bill Oddie song that often got played during silent scenes in The Goodies.

Berni Flint's back.

And now he's gone, replaced by The Stylistics - looking weirdly like Gerry Anderson puppets. This is the third song on this week's show that I have no memory of.

Their dancing can only be called half-hearted.

Their singer has a weird look of permanent startledness on his face.

And their dancing's still half-hearted.

The last few minutes have led me to conclude The Stylistics are a band best heard and never seen.

Bonnie Tyler's More Than A Lover is the fourth song on this week's show that I have no memory of. Can it be? Can our hero be going senile?

Argkh! That first note was a bit rough. Frankly, if a bloke on your local building site came out with it, you'd send him off for a packet of Strepsils.

Though, in fairness to her, she's looking better than I remember.

What does this tune sound like?

Is it When Doves Cry? Or is it Time to Hide by Wings? Or is it something else altogether?

Whatever it sounds like, I quite like it. It has a vague unconventionality about it.

Now Mike Nesmith's on, talking to David Hamilton and plugging his song Rio.

He has a beard!

Did he ever talk in The Monkees? I don't remember

Whatever, he wasn't with David for long.

ABBA are at Number 1, with Knowing Me, Knowing You: A-Haaaaa.

It's still that video. They're still freeze-framing and looking through each other. I still prefer the one who's not blonde. She looks cheeky. The blonde one never looked cheeky.

We play out with Elvis and Blue Bayou.

I do feel sorry for David Bowie though. He's now at Number 5, having been on the chart for what seems like months, and still can't get on the show. I only hope it doesn't finish his career.

In summary, I do feel this week's show was a let-down after the upturn in quality we got a fortnight ago, full of songs that made so little impression on me at the time that I had no memory of them, mostly mid-tempo and resolutely unchallenging. The fact that – ABBA aside - a Bonnie Tyler song I've never heard before in my entire life was the highlight can't be taken as a good sign.

Still, the good thing about TOTP is that no matter how disappointing an edition might be, there's always the hope that next week's will be better.

And that David Bowie might finally be allowed on.