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.