Top of the Pops: 19th May, 1977.

Rod Stewart by Helge Øverås (Own work)
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The Olympic Torch may be wending its way through the streets of this land even as we speak but there's only one beacon to be seen lighting the boulevards of Nostalgia.

And that's this week's TOTP.

Will it burn bright - a symbol of hope for all mankind?

Or will it splutter and die like the dampest of squibs?

Only David “Kid” Jensen can tell us. For it is he who's to guide us through the flaming cul-de-sac that men call, “The Past.”

Straight away, we launch into Suzi Quatro and - inevitably for an opening song - a track that rings no bells with me whatsoever.

It's a performance that can only be labelled, "Relaxed."

But that seems inevitable. Like whatever that single was she was on doing a few weeks back, it's not the most grippingest of tracks. In fact, some might call it positively lukewarm. Suzi really did seem to be treading water at this stage of her career. Still, thanks to hindsight, we at least know better was to come.

The song seems to be called Roxy Roller and, as it finishes, Kid declares it to be, “exciting,” suggesting he's incredibly easily excited.

Now it's Heatwave and Too Hot to Handle.

It's the typical Heatwave performance, them in silly outfits doing a song that sounds like Heatwave.

Now it's time for The Moon And I, sung by Linda Lewis.

I always thought Linda Lewis was a porn star. Assuming she isn't, just who was I mixing her up with?

Three songs into the show, and this is the third track I've never heard of.

But what a sweet little thing she seems.

Was this really written by Gilbert and Sullivan? Why isn't it all short notes and silly words?

Whoever wrote it, in the hands of Linda it's all going a bit Minnie Riperton.

Still, whatever its unlikelihood, I find it strangely intriguing and have the desire to hear it again, if only to find out what I make of it second time round.

Now for the Bay City Rollers with It's a Game.

If this hadn't been on two weeks ago, it would've been tonight's fourth consecutive track I've never heard of.

One solitary audience member waves a scarf. I wonder if she was the only Bay City Rollers fan left in Britain at this stage?

Now it's Carole Bayer Sager and You're Moving Out.

At last, a track I recognise!

I may know the song but I'm not sure I've ever seen her before. On first viewing, it does strike me that she looks like Popeye's Olive Oyl.

Like Barbara Dickson all those weeks ago, while she's making a good go at it, she's somewhat hindered by the invisibility of her backing singers.

I remember seeing Lynda Carter doing a version of this somewhere. It wasn't a patch on Carole's version.

Then again, Carole Bayer Sager'd probably struggle with playing Wonder Woman – especially when it comes to finding her invisible plane.

Joe Tex is at it again.

And now Legs and Co are dancing to Disco Inferno.

You'd think this was a perfect track for them to dance to, as it gives them an excuse to just dance and not have to act out any kind of narrative.

The only problem is that, for no noticeable reason, Flick Colby's ordered hub caps be strapped to their every extremity, meaning that, instead of focusing on their dancing, all you can notice are flashing discs. Flick Colby, a woman who could be relied upon to achieve defeat no matter how much easier it'd be to achieve triumph.

“From the land of a thousand dancers,” declares Kid, it's the Jacksons.

Are there really only a thousand dancers in the United States?

That does seem an unlikely stat.

Actually in the studio, rather than on video, they're doing Let Me Show You. I must admit it's not one of my favourite Jackson tracks, feeling oddly leaden compared to others of that vintage.

Michael seems to be the tallest of the Jacksons, which can't be right, can it?

To be honest, Michael's starting to get on my nerves now, with his random exclamations.

But at last it's the moment we've all been waiting for. Entire musical epochs collapse before our eyes as punk finally hits TOTP, with the debut of the Jam. Admittedly, you could argue the Jam weren't really punk but it's as close as we've got thus far on the show.

Paul seems a little angry. Bruce seems a little angry. It's a contrast from the Jacksons, that's for sure.

And an even bigger contrast is with Rod Stewart who's hit the heady heights of Number 1 with The First Cut is the Deepest.

He's on the TOTP jumbotron. I thought it'd long-since been retired due to the audience's disheartening tendency to stand with their backs to it.

It's that performance from last week.

He's waving his bum again.

As the show draws to a close, Kid signs off by wishing us, “Good love.” Heaven alone knows where he got that one from.

We play out with Boz Scaggs' Lido Shuffle.

This is my favourite Boz Scaggs song, by a mile. It sounds like Rick Davies' efforts for Supertramp. Given that Davies was always overshadowed by Roger Hodgson, that might not seem a good thing but Boz clearly knew how to make that sound work.

So, it was a night when musical differences were stretched almost to breaking point. What other music show could ever have dared give us Gilbert and Sullivan and the Jam in the same broadcast?

But that was the greatness of TOTP. While the BBC's other great 1970s music show The Old Grey Whistle Test had to crunch gears furiously to adjust to the arrival of the "new" music, TOTP's great amoeboid mass simply absorbed and accommodated any sound the charts could throw at it, before rolling on unperturbed.

Top of the Pops: 24th Feb, 1977.

By Abelcarreto (Entrevista a Jef Lynne)
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It's that time of week again, pop-pickers - the time when all music fans must drop whatever it is they're doing and tune into the latest happening chart sounds. What magical musical memories will this week's show disinter from beyond the grave to light up a dark March night?

Its Noel Edmonds. That's what magical musical memories it'll disinter. You have to hand it to Noel, he's looking very well-turned-out in his three-piece suit.

There's no intro to the first act but my keen knowledge of the latest pop sensations tells me it's Heatwave, dressed in a style that can only be called Vintage Wally.

I really hated Heatwave at the time. Now, I don't really mind them. The constant smiling does grate with me as much as it ever did though.

Strange purple laser beams being fired downwards from the ceiling, acting as the bars of a cage designed to prevent Heatwave escaping into the general community. Given their outfits, I feel it's for the best.

One of the the vocalists seems to be trying to imply that he's singing the synthesizer solo but I quickly see through his cunning ruse.

That drummer just does not belong in that band. He seems to have blundered in from the local and just decided to help himself to the drum kit.

Now it's Racing Cars and They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Noel introduced it with a feeble joke about cobblers or something but even Noel can't disguise the magic of this track.

Could it be? Could 1977 have finally produced a song I like?

Although I'm familiar with the song, I've never seen Racing Cars before. In all honesty, it's starting to undermine my love of the track far more than Noel ever could.

This really should've been a hit for the Hollies, shouldn't it?

Actually I really am going off it now. Thirty five years I've loved this song and just one minute of one appearance on Top of the Pops has been enough to make me question my judgement.

That's the wonder of Top of the Pops. I'm starting to wish it was 1995 now. The lifelessness of it all's making me pine for Shirley Manson's various appearances.

Did I ever mention Shirley Manson was my favourite ever Top of the Pops performer? She, more than any other act, always seemed to have it sussed as to how to do the thing.

Speaking of things. It's the Real Thing and You'll Never Know What You're Missing.

Didn't the singer used to breed dogs and do adverts for Pedigree Chum?

Nice top hat. Not enough pop stars wear top hats. The only other top hat wearing singer I can think of is Noddy Holder who I sadly fear isn't going to be making any more TOTP appearances for a good few years yet.

The man stood on the end looks a bit depressed.

The two men stood next to him look like they can't believe they're there. They probably can't believe they're on the same stage Shirley Manson'll one day prowl with such distinction.

Torn Between Two Lovers, by a woman whose name I don't know how to spell.

I've always hated this one. Will my being exposed to it again after all these years do anything to change my mind?

No.

I don't think it will.

You really would have to work hard to be this insipid.

This sounds like that Peter Skellern record; You're a Lady or whatever it was called.

But this is more like it. It's ELO and Rockaria.

I've turned up the TV in order to soak up the visceral pre-punk vibe of it all. Granted, some might say that, by the standards of rock, it's a little tame, but, by the standards of everything we've heard so far, it's practically musical anarchy personified.

Actually, I'm starting to get a bit bored with it too now. Just what is it about TOTP that has this deadening effect on all it touches?

Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber are being interviewed by Noel Edmonds. None of them seems very comfortable to be there.

Barbara Dickson always looks comfortable to be anywhere. I saw her doing that Gerry Rafferty tribute show the other night and she looks as into it all tonight as she did then. She's doing Another Suitcase, Another Hall.

I like this one. I don't care that it's by Webber and Rice and that no one likes them and they've just looked as uncomfortable as anyone's ever looked in the presence of Noel Edmonds. It's a nice song and beautifully sung - though it doesn't feel right to see Barbara Dickson on TV without her being first introduced by Ronnie Corbett.

I hereby declare Barbara Dickson a National Treasure, for no good reason other than I like the look in her eyes. There's a sharpness to them. She has a keen vision, that one.

Now Earth Wind and Fire are being danced to by Legs and Co. Isn't this the same dance they famously did for Disco Duck; only without the duck suits?

This is the second week running they haven't tried to literally interpret a song. Has Flick Colby finally learned her lesson, or has she merely sunk into a trough of despond that means she can't be bothered to make the effort any more?

Leo Sayer's still at number 1. It takes me back to the days when he had his own show on BBC2. I don't remember much about it but I bet Barbara Dickson and her sharp eyes were on it more than once.

But this is a song that makes you want to wave your lighter in the air.

He's making strangling hands!

Despite the odd strangling gestures, anyone who doesn't feel compelled to sing along with Leo has a heart of stone.

And now we come to the end, and it sounds like the strains of David Bowie about to do the outro. It's Sound and Vision. Is it wrong of me to admit I preferred Nick Lowe's I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass which sounded noticeably similar?

Is Ken Morse on rostrum camera?

He's not!

What kind of strange and miserable madness is this that denies us Ken Morse for two weeks running?