Top of the Pops: 10th March, 1977.

I couldn't find a free-to-use image of any of tonight's
acts, so here's a photo of Scarlett Johansson instead
By Tony Shek (Scarlett Johansson_004)
[CC-BY-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)]
via Wikimedia Commons

Once more must I plummet through time, into a world so very like my own and yet so very unlike my own. What all-time classics will BBC4 have cut out of this week's show to make room for the likes of Mary MacGregor?

If anyone can tell us, David “Kid” Jensen can, for it is he who's presenting.

I'm still refusing to watch the chart countdown at the beginning, in case it ruins all the surprises for me.

And this is a surprise. They've started with Graham Parker. Graham was one of my favourite artists of the late 1970s. How could you not love a man who gave us lines like, “I've got mercury poisoning. It's fatal and it don't get better”?

Having said that, such an angry man seems not totally suited to a song like Hold Back the Night.

I never realised he was so short.

Or is everyone else in his band unbelievably tall? It's like he's being filmed in forced perspective like they were in Land of the Giants. Any second now I expect a giant domestic cat to get on stage and try to swat him with its paw, forcing him to take refuge in a hole in the skirting board.

To be honest he's acting like a bit of a pranny.

“What a good week it's been for Liverpool,” says Kid. Argh! No! Please don't let this mean it's going to be Liverpool Express again!

It's not. It's the Real Thing.

I suppose it's better than Liverpool Express but it's still not the most thrilling of songs. For some reason, one of them's got his arm in his dungarees, like Napoleon on Dress-Down Thursday.

The Brotherhood of Man are on, doing Oh Boy. They haven't quite gone into full-on ABBA mode at this stage of their career but they're heading that way.

It's not what you could call a rivetingly choreographed routine.

Now Kid meets some Norwegians.

And we meet Smokie.

I do have a strange fondness for Smokie. They were hardly cutting-edge, but listening to a Smokie song is like sinking into a comfy sofa; which is appropriate as the bassist's hair looks like an exploding settee.

Speaking of looking like an exploding settee, Barbara Dickson's back. It's Kid Jensen's favourite song from Evita and I agree with him even though I've only ever heard three songs from Evita and two of them have the same tune as each other.

Oh my god, it's that terrible Rubettes record again. Has there been some decree that it has to be on every single week? How can Kid possibly think it's going to be a Number 1?

Big hats totally jettisoned now. The fools! Don't they know that ditching extravagant head-wear's the sure-fire route to obscurity? I take the view that the only reason I never made it onto TOTP was my insane decision to not wear a neon bucket on my head at all opportunities. With such a policy, how could I ever have hoped to stalk the stage Nik Kershaw once made his own?

Like a pitiful dog with no will left to go on, the Rubettes are put out of their misery and cut short to make way for ELO and Rockaria. I'm starting to feel like I'm watching a repeat of last week's show.

Still, I don't care. ELO'll put me in better spirits.

Supposedly the woman warbling on this is the same one who sang, “This is the age of the train,” in those Jimmy Savile adverts. Everything on TOTP always comes back to Jimmy in the end.

Dangerous jumping around from the cellist. Just remember that thing's got a big spike on the end of it, mate.

Legs and Co dancing to Mary MacGregor. Another atypically non-literal interpretation. That's a shame. I'd have loved to see Flick Colby trying to literally interpret the phrase, “Torn between two lovers.” Poor Cherry'd never walk right again.

Now it's someone called Brendan. I've never heard of either this person or this song before in my life. And there was me thinking I had an encyclopaedic knowledge of all things late-1970s' pop.

Brendan's a major sex god.

At least he seems to think so.

I'm not sure his band do. They appear to be trying to keep as much of the stage between themselves and him as possible.

He seems quite annoying.

And seems to have a high opinion of his own buttocks, judging by his determination to make sure everyone gets a good view of them.

Leo Sayer's not Number 1 any more. It's Manhattan Transfer; rat a tat a tat.

Nipples!

I don't expect a woman in Manhattan Transfer to have nipples. It'd be like finding out Penelope Keith has them. Nipples are reserved for Felicity Kendal, not the likes of Mrs Manhattan.

I wonder if there're still groups like Manhattan Transfer out there these days. I like to think there are. I mean, I wouldn't want to actually hear them, but it'd be reassuring to know there are. And also that there're acts like Hinge and Bracket still out there.

It's all over and they're playing-out with Elton John and Crazy Water. Was this a single? Was it a hit? It's not one of his best known songs. In fact I don't know it at all.

So, I learned a lot from this week's episode of Top of the Pops. I learned there was a man called Brendan who I'd never heard of before and that Elton John had a single out in 1977 that I'd never heard of before.

Still no sign of Ken Morse. With the most iconic figure in TOTP's history still not having put in an appearance, I'm starting to feel like it's a conspiracy.

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.