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: 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.

Top of the Pops: 5th May, 1977.

By Musphot (Own work)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],
via Wikimedia Commons.

Well, I've girded my loins. I've strapped on my armour. Now to see what challenges the second of this week's instalments of the world's greatest music show has in store for us.

What it first has in store is Noel Edmonds, as always looking as unlike the presenter of a popular music show as it's possible to be. You did always feel Noel would've been far more at home working in banking than in the entertainment business.

And, for once, we kick off with an act I actually recognise.

It's the Bay City Rollers...

...and a song I don't recognise.

Remembering they're meant to be objects of lust for girls too young to feel lust, they're showing off a lot of chest, which is a good thing, as I'm sure it's the sort of behaviour that gets us all a little excited back here in 1977.

The song seems OK but lacks the overwhelming sense of optimistic pop unstoppability of their earlier hits. Even at the time it must have seemed clear the sun was slowly setting on the Rollers' days of supremacy.

Someone whose sun was still hovering somewhere around noon, was Rod Stewart who's on next with First Cut is the Deepest.

It's a pleasant enough track but not one of my Rod favourites.

And this is where we get a reminder of the problem with Rod. He's doing a sensitive ballad then suddenly turns round and starts waving his arse at us all.

This is why I believe people are wrong when they say he sold out by going disco. For a man with a determination to wave his bum in everyone's faces at every opportunity, when disco came along he must have felt like at last he'd found his true calling in life.

Delegation are back, and looking older than ever. I don't like to be narrow-minded but I can't help feeling that men of that age really shouldn't be wearing such figure-hugging, chest-revealing outfits.

Mac and Katie Kissoon are up next.

Noel introduces them like they're old friends of the show, though I must admit I've never heard of them.

Nor have I ever heard of the song but they seem to continue that Marilyn McCoo/Billy Davis Jr tradition of an attractive woman paired with a man who looks like talent scouts found him lurking in the cellar beneath Paris Opera House.

As for Katie, she has some strange sort of creature attached to her chest. It seems to be one of Molly Sugden's old hats from the Liver Birds.

The audience are suddenly heading for them just as they're fading out. Bearing in mind the audience were presumably there to see some pop acts, just where have they been all the way through the song?

Noel cracks a joke I don't understand at all, about something doing you good.

What I do understand is Leo Sayer who's back with his video of multi-layered Leos and still showing us his “fun” side.

Next, on to Joy Sarney - yet another act I've never heard of before.

It soon becomes obvious why, as she quickly plummets into what must be the worst performance in TOTP history. Actually managing to make Rick Dees look like a latter-day Beethoven, she launches into a truly bizarre duet with Mr Punch.

At this juncture I should point out she looks like Steve Does Top of the Pops favourite Jolene Blalock.

I like to think that, if Jolene Blalock ever launched a pop career, this is what it'd be like.

I suspect that Jolene Blalock, on the other hand, likes to think otherwise.

But it has to be quite the cheeriest song about domestic violence I've ever heard. "He's been in trouble with the law for grievous bodily harm," she gushes, prompting the thought that Joy Sarney should've been in trouble with the law for grievous bodily harm to music.

Now it's Frankie Valli, and yet another song I've never heard before. It really is turning out to be a night of discovery for me.

Seeing as it's Frankie Valli, I keep expecting him to go all high-pitched but he resolutely refuses to do so. In places, the track vaguely brings to mind the work of Harry Chapin. In others it doesn't.

Now, proving he really would have been more comfortable in banking, Noel tells us it's, “Legs and Company.”

It's that weirdly happy dance they did the other week to Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy.

ABBA have finally been kicked off the Number 1 slot and replaced by Deniece Williams with Free.

I'm pleased to report that, after finding it boring the last time it was on, I'm starting to get into it again after all these years. It can't be denied it's a classy track and she has a decent set of pipes on her, even if she does blow too hard on them from time to time.

She's doing the waggly thing with her fingers again, which still impresses me far more than it ought to.

It's Stevie Wonder's turn to get the fuzzy end of the lollipop this week by receiving the honour of playing us out.

So, what can you say? The night's earlier edition was completely dominated in the memory by one strange and inexplicable act in Contempt, and this show was likewise dominated by the bizarre horror of Joy Sarney - whereas perfectly tasteful acts like Frankie Valli and Delegation are already slipping from the mind. It just goes to show that, in the magical world of showbusiness, being memorable and being worthy of remembrance aren't necessarily the same thing.

Top of the Pops: 21st April, 1977.

Because Jolene Blalock alone cannot keep Aggy satisfied,
here's ex-Star Trek Voyager sex-bomb Jeri Ryan.
Photo by Gary Burke  (Jeri Ryan)
[CC-BY-SA-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

It's been an exciting day today, as the nation's gone to the polls to decide just who's going to be ruling our towns and cities for the next few years.

But there's only one man rules our hearts.

And that's Tony Blackburn.

Why?

Because only he can guide us through the strongholds and marginals that are the pop charts of 1977.

And we kick off with someone or other.

Is it Eddie and the Hot Rods? I'm basing this assumption on the singer's bared chest and the fact he's moving around a fair bit. I don't have a clue what it's called but I do know it's not Do Anything You Wanna Do.

He's dangerously close to doing the splits. Some things I don't want to see even on TOTP. I can't help feeling he's what you'd have got if Iggy Pop and Get It Together's Roy North had produced a love-child. Then again, who's to say they didn't?

It WAS Eddie and the Hot Rods. No wonder they let me do a life-or-death blog about pop when I have musical knowledge like that.

On the other hand, here's OC Smith. Apart from him having a very well-known TV show named after him that featured the bloke who was Jim Robinson in Neighbours, I still don't have a clue who he is.

Is this the song he did the other week? Or is it another one?

He still looks like Phil Lynott's dad.

I'm still not gripped by it.

It's all gone scary as we suddenly get a weird lingering close-up of a woman's face.

But no. It's not just any weird woman's face. It's a Legs and Co weird woman's face.

They're dancing to Sir Duke by Stevie Wonder.

I must confess I've never been a Stevie Wonder fan. I always like his songs when they start but, after about a minute, I'm always starting to lose the will to live.

Legs and Co are very shiny and sparkly tonight. I don't know whose idea those outfits were but one thing's for sure, the chicken'll be going without bacofoil this week.

They've flashed their bums! It's shocking the things people'll get up to now it's 1977. I've got a good mind to ring Mary Whitehouse. Wherever will this Rock and Roll anarchy end? I predict, if it's not checked, it'll end with people wearing meat bikinis. And I'm making that prediction in 1977, so, if I'm proven right, it'll be an incredible act of foresight.

Now it's Tavares.

I remember this one. I remember liking it - mostly because it mentions Ellery Queen.

I remember seeing the pilot ep for the Ellery Queen show in the 1970s and concluding that Ellery Queen was the murderer. I didn't realise it was Part 1 of a series and he couldn't be the murderer because that would've made it a very short series. I'm still smarting over the humiliation.

Tavares, meanwhile, are giving an oddly winning performance. You wouldn't exactly call their dance routine twinkle-toed but you can't help liking them.

It's time to round-up the votes of the Steve jury as Mike Moran and Lynsey de Paul are back with Rock Bottom.

I don't care how pretty she is, I just can't warm to Lynsey. There's still something I don't trust about her.

Actually it's probably because she is pretty that I don't trust her. I don't mind beautiful people – I'm fairly scrumptious myself - but they who are pretty, I don't trust.

The audience look bored rigid.

I don't blame 'em.

It's no Scooch.

Leo Sayer's on now. I don't recognise the track yet and I thought I knew every hit Leo ever had.

I know it now he's finally started singing. It's How Much Love. I think this is one of his high-pitched ones.

What a strange video. There's millions of Leos leaping up and down, spinning around, floating about in mid-air, and mostly being silhouettes.

I'm trying to work out if it's heavily influenced by Elton John or if Elton John was heavily influenced by Leo Sayer. Either way, this track could easily have been on an Elton John album.

Now for Delegation and Where Is The Love?

Someone else had a hit with a song called Where Is The Love, didn't they? Was it Black Eyed Peas? Or was it Lisa Stansfield? Or was it both?

As for Delegation, I'm not familiar with them but their style's familiar.

It's very pleasant but very like the Real Thing. I suspect you could easily sing Can't Get By Without You right over the top of it.

Elkie Brooks is back – and backless. I hope she's not going to be sexy again. The trouble I got into last time over the whole issue of Elkie and sexiness. All I can say is I will never again question the untrammelled eroticism of Elkie Brooks.

Deniece Williams is back with Free. It's another one I always like for the first minute before completely losing all interest.

She's doing strange hand movements to try and keep us interested. She's succeeding. I'm still not interested in the song but I am at least strangely taken by her hand gestures.

Now she's starting to sound like a kettle boiling.

ABBA are still at Number 1.

This week's show seems to have flown by, which I suppose means I must've found it entertaining even though there was little on it you'd call either remarkable or memorable.

And, continuing the TOTP tradition of saving the best song till the play-out, we finish with Peter Gabriel and Solsbury Hill.

This is bad news. I think I'm starting to get how it works; which is that, once a track's been on the play-out, it's doomed to never be on the show proper. Which presumably means Peter's had it.

That's a shame, as Solsbury Hill's one of the few songs from 1977 that I'd call a classic.

Top of the Pops: 24th Feb, 1977.

By Abelcarreto (Entrevista a Jef Lynne)
[GFDL or CC-BY-SA-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0],
via Wikimedia Commons

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?

Top of the Pops:17th Feb, 1977

By AVRO (Beeld En Geluid Wiki - Gallerie: Toppop 1974)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons
Sadly this is not how Leo was dressed on tonight's show.

Here's where I put this all to the test by giving my running commentary on last week's episode. I still haven't seen it yet but have no doubt it'll be a full-on descent into the non-stop Donna Summer, punk rock and Star Wars I remember 1977 being.

It's being introduced by someone I don't recognise. Whoever he is, he seems happy to be there.

They're kicking off with the chart run-down but I'm refusing to watch it, so it doesn't spoil the surprise of what's number 1. It's probably Adele or One Direction or The Wanted like it usually is.

There's no introduction for the first act but my cutting-edge knowledge of modern music tells me it's Suzi Quatro.

She's still got the leather.

She's still got the bass.

Sadly she's not got the song.

Whatever it is, it's not a patch on her early 70s' stuff.

Now she's got her foot up on the piano, trying to pretend it's unfettered visceral Rock and Roll she's doling out but, frankly, like a failed souffle, it's sagging badly.

Is she singing, "Tear me apart if you want to win my heart?" What kind of sentiment is that for a young woman to be expressing?

The anonymous presenter's back.

It's The Moments, with a song that might be called Jack in the Box. Unlike the Suzi track, I remember this from when it was first out. I've always had an affection for it even though I can't think of a single good reason why.

It's all starting to lose its way a bit. They're just stood there going, "Doodle doodle do," which is rarely a good sign in a song.

Now we've been introduced to someone called The Brothers. I must confess to having no memory at all of this, a sort of pop-reggae thing. Still, the drummer has a cuddly toy on his drum kit, so they at least have something going for them.

It's Boz Scaggs and his cast of thousands. I've always been slightly non-plussed by Boz Scaggs. I only know three songs by him and none of them sound like they were done by the same act as the others. Still, with the size of his band at least he was making a huge contribution to keeping America's unemployment figures down.

That really is a phenomenally large band and it seems to be getting bigger with every shot. At this rate of expansion, I just hope he gets through the song before it becomes physically impossible for the world to produce enough food to feed them all.

The mystery presenter's introducing Thelma Houston who may or may not be related to Whitney and therefore may or may not be in a bad place right now.

But this is way better than the Communards' version. Her chest, however, does seem to be out of all control.

It's the Rubettes but it's not the Rubettes as I remember them. I remember them being like a CinemaScope version of Mud, with wide-screen harmonies and epic production. This is some dull country song being sung by a bloke vaguely like Roy Orbison. And there's not a giant hat in sight.

Is this actually the same Rubettes or is it a different group with the same name? If it is a different group I prefer the proper Rubettes.

It really is dragging on for what seems like hours. Even a rather nice guitar solo can't save it.

Mr Big are the highest climber on the charts. I'm assuming it's not the Mr Big who did To Be With You or whatever it was called.

I've not heard this for decades. I seem to remember liking it at the time, though now it sounds ludicrous, with ridiculously overwrought lyrics. And just what does, "Step back inside me, Romeo," actually mean?

It's got a harmonica. That's good - even if it doesn't fit in at all with the mood of the rest of the track.

There's plenty of bare chests on show.

They're doing the Bohemian Rhapsody thing with all the band's heads all on screen at the same time. But, like fools, they've forgotten to up-light themselves. Personally, I make a note of always being up-lit. It's the only way I can preserve the air of mystery that so fascinates the internet.

Legs and Co are dancing to the sounds of Tavares. Lots of tambourine action.

It's not what you'd all classy but at least they're not "interpreting" the song, like they usually try to.

It does strike me that 1977 seemed to be a big year for random key changes. It seems like most of the songs so far have been flinging them in like they were handed out for free at the studio door.

Leo Sayer's at number 1.

I must admit to having a soft spot for Leo.

Well, when I say a soft spot, I mean a soft spot for I Won't Let The Show Go On, One Man Band and this one - When I Need You. It's easy to knock Leo for the hair and the jumpers and the name but you can't argue with a catchy tune.

You did always get the feeling that if Leo Sayer was made of chocolate he'd eat himself. But then, if I were made of chocolate, I'd eat myself. Except for my hands of course. I'd need those to use my keyboard.

Then again the heat from my keyboard'd probably melt my hands.

So that's what I've learned from this week's Top of the Pops. If you're made of chocolate you might as well eat your hands. Never let it be said TV can't be educational.

There's a girl staring at the mystery presenter, with her jaw clenched, as though she's offering him out. Like the true pro he is, he's ignoring her and concentrating on the camera. He's too busy introducing Earth, Wind and Fire to get into a punch-up with a schoolgirl.

Looking at the credits, it seems the mystery presenter was Paul Burnett. How strange. I used to listen to his show for all those years on Radio 1 but had no idea till now what he looked like.

Overall it wasn't a great show. There were no great signs of a wind of change sweeping through popular music. But my main disappointment was that Ken Morse wasn't the rostrum cameraman. I thought it was compulsory for Ken Morse to be rostrum cameraman on every TV show ever made in the past.

Still, I've learned many things from today's show. I've learned to always wear a bra on TV if you're a big girl and that it's OK to eat your own hands. I do feel such wisdom gained makes it a venture worthwhile.