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: 18th August, 1977.

I can't find a decent Free-Use pic of any of tonight's acts,
so here's a lovely photo of Fingal's Cave in Staffa, Scotland.
By Velela (Public Domain).

Never  one to waste time, Dave Lee Travis flings us straight into it with the chart countdown and the Stranglers doing Something Better Change.

What with Jonathan Richman last week and the Stranglers this, the BBC have clearly decided the countdown is the best place to put the "challenging" songs.

But, for the serious music lover, nothing could be more challenging than the Dooleys - and they're up next, with something or other.

I must admit my memories of the Dooleys are vague. While I have strongish recall of the music, in terms of what they looked like I think I may have spent the last thirty-odd years mixing them up with Liquid Gold.

Upon re-acquaintance with them, they're not the most glamorous outfit I've ever seen.

Nor are they wearing the most glamorous outfits I've ever seen.

But the Dooleys depart and - hooray - it's the act some of us have been waiting all year for.

It's the Floaters - and Float On.

Has there ever been a band with a more unfortunate name? Has there ever been a band whose only hit was more lampoonable?

And, for that matter, how exactly does one, "Float on?"

Charles likes a woman who's quiet.

Paul's fussy. He likes all the women of the world.

While Larry - funny how he's the one who's lingered longest in the memory - likes a woman who loves everyone and everybody.

What a desperate bunch of men they turned out to be.

I wonder if Elkie Brooks would've been impressed by Larry? She's on now, doing Since You Went Away.

All respect to Elkie, who we established several months ago is a seething volcano of female sexuality but I'm already starting to get bored with her.

Now it's Mink DeVille. For some reason I always get them mixed up with the aforementioned Jonathan Richman.

I've never seen them before and they don't look like I expected. I always thought they'd look like the Cars.

Actually, this does sound more like My Best Friend's Girl than I ever noticed before. In fact, I think you can sing My Best Friend's Girl right over the top of it.

Meanwhile, the singer seems to be in a different group from the rest of the band.

Despite all their best efforts, I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion this is rubbish.

What's on next certainly isn't.

Why?

Because it's Carly Simon and my favouritest ever James Bond theme. Who can listen to this song without at once being transported back to a magical time of cars that turn into submarines, and giants with metal teeth? And how many songs can you say that about?

Not so hooray! Carly's being danced to by Legs and Co.

Those are interesting outfits they're wearing. They look like Dale Arden in full-on Mongo gear.

In fact, if Hela - the goddess of death from Thor - joined Legs and Co, that's exactly the look she'd go for.

As Hela's a bit of a role model of mine, that realisation quickly convinces me this is a good look.

I would say I really don't have a clue what the dance has to do with the song but I say that every week, so I won't. But I can say their aimless physical meanderings have managed the seemingly impossible and drained away all my enthusiasm for the song.

We're back to Dave Lee Travis and he's with a woman whose top proclaims the word, "Midge." Is she an Ultravox fan who's got to the studio too early or a Slik fan who's got there too late?

Danny Williams is back, with the Martini music.

He still looks like someone who'd sell you something dodgy on a street corner - although I'm sure he's not really.

The Rah Band are back for what seems like the millionth time, and still failing to convince me that balaclavas are a good look for a pop star.

I've lost reception again. Why does this happen every week at this time? It's like someone's trying to jam my signal in an effort to ruin my enjoyment.

I'm back in time for a woman singing the Bee Gees' Nights on Broadway. My finely tuned knowledge of popular music tells me she might be Candi Staton.

But I've lost my reception again...

...and suddenly I'm confronted by the Jam and All Around the World, leading me to conclude that Candi can't have been on for long.

I've come to the decision that this isn't one of the Jam's best, but they are at least doing their best to liven up what's been a somewhat moribund edition.

Someone you could never call moribund are the Brotherhood of Man. They even manage to make Mexican suicides sound like fun. Not only that but they're suddenly at Number 1, with Angelo.

But, hold on a moment. Hasn't this been out for months and months and months? They must've been on Top of the Pops at least a million times doing it already. Just how long did it take to reach the top spot?

No doubt lacking all interest in such conundra, Space play us out with Magic Fly. Or is it Magic Fly playing us out with Space? I was never sure which it was but, whatever it's called and whoever it's by, like Nobody Does it Better, this is one of the tracks I most strongly associate with 1977.

It was an oddly disjointed show, veering awkwardly between the likes of the Jam and the Stranglers and the likes of the Floaters and the Dooleys. If any show demonstrates that 1977 saw a nation musically divided then it has to have been this one.

It'd be nice to say the contrast was invigorating but it proved to be more frustrating, as the serious groups drained all fun from proceedings, as the sillier groups drained all gravitas from them. Could this be the fate of British music from now on? To be hopelessly fractured beyond consolidation?

Only time - and possibly 1978 - will be able to tell us.

Top of the Pops: 23rd June, 1977.

The Brotherhood of Man - Nationaal Archief, Den Haag, Rijksfotoarchief:
Fotocollectie Algemeen Nederlands Fotopersbureau (ANEFO),
1945-1989 - negatiefstroken zwart/wit, nummer toegang 2.24.01.05,
bestanddeelnummer 928-4930 (Nationaal Archief)
[CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],
via Wikimedia Commons

Despite its best efforts to do so, BBC 4 has pitifully failed to catch me out, and this Wednesday evening finds me all rared up and ready to go.

I'm not the only one - because Jimmy Savile too has failed to be caught out and, by the sounds of him, is as full of vim and vigour as ever.

But first we kick off with a miracle, as, for possibly the first time ever, I recognise both the opening act and their song.

It's Dave Edmunds and his Rockpile, with I Knew The Bride When She Used To Rock and Roll.

In retrospect, what an odd outfit Dave Edmunds' Rockpile were, somehow managing to feel like they were riding on a New Wave bandwagon despite being as much a 1950s throwback as Shakin' Stevens ever was.

Nick Lowe still looks like he should've been the fifth Beatle though.

Jimmy Savile's back and as well dressed as ever, in a tracksuit covered in crudely sewn-on flags of the British Isles.

Now it's Tony Etoria.

They've saved the act I've never heard of for second on the bill! Can the show survive such a drastic format change?

This seems to be cheerful tune sung from the perspective of a mad stalker.

Sadly for Tony and his oddly creepy song, the audience're clearly more interested in watching the cameramen than in watching him.

Speaking of creepy, Gary Glitter's back.

And it's a lot livelier than his last appearance, which was just plain disturbing.

This is more like the Gary we were familiar with - although you can't help feeling it's a song calling out for a bigger production.

My razor-sharp Steve Senses tell me he might be miming.

Overall you have to say it's one of music's great tragedies that a man who, like Jimmy Savile, could make you smile just upon the mention of his name, had to end up enmeshed in such scandal,  robbing us forever of a small piece of innocent fun in our lives.

Next up, it's Carole Bayer Sager. He still hasn't moved out and she still hasn't got her hands out of her pockets.

Carole's gone and Jimmy's returned. He's back to his old trick of introducing us to strange acquaintances of his. God only knows where he finds his endless supply of discomfiting people.

It's ABBA the Brotherhood Of Man, with Angelo. This is more like it. How could anyone not like the Brotherhood Of Man?

Angelo's resemblance to Fernando is obvious but I'd never noticed before that they've also stolen the piano from Dancing Queen.

There's no two ways about it, this has to be the cheeriest song about suicide ever written.

Now we're back with another of Jimmy's friends who all look weirdly familiar, like they should be someone famous. This time it's a man called Dennis, and the famous person he should be is Mick Fleetwood.

The famous people the Stranglers should have been are the Stranglers and that's the cue for them to give us another airing of Go Buddy Go.

You have to give Top Of The Pops credit. How many other music shows could have gone seamlessly from the Brotherhood Of Man to the Stranglers with nothing to separate them but Jimmy Savile?

Now it's Johnny Nash. I don't know the song but, whatever it is, it's taking its time getting going.

I must admit I know very little of the oeuvre of Johnny Nash but this seems quite nice, with a hint of Otis Redding's Try A Little Tenderness.

Legs and Co are back, dressed as Little Bo Peep and dancing to Oh Lori.

I do feel they should have dancers on Jools Holland's Later to fill in for any acts who can't be bothered to turn up.

I bet Paul Nicholas would never be not bothered to turn up for a TV show. I bet Paul Nicholas would never be not bothered to turn up for for the opening of an envelope. Never have I seen a man of Paul Nicholas's enthusiasm. And we get a chance to experience it all over again as the man who gave us seminal rock classic Grandma's Party is back, doing Heaven on the 7th Floor.

There's a harmonica. For a moment I'm hoping it turns out to be being played by Stevie Wonder.

Sadly it doesn't. But what meeting of the talents that would've been.

I do feel Paul Nicolas was what Brendon could've been if he'd played his cards right.

Jimmy has another friend with him. This time the famous person he should be is Peter Frampton because it is Peter Frampton, popping in to show off his bare chest and say nothing much in particular. Sadly, his tube is notable by its absence. It would've been a wonderful moment in pop history if, in the time since his previous appearance on the show, Peter Frampton had gone so mad he'd taken to talking through his tube as well.

At Number 1, it's the Jacksons with Show You The Way To Go.

I must confess it's not one of my favourite Jacksons tracks.

To be honest not many Jacksons tracks are.

Despite me being a renowned king of Disco, I only ever liked Blame It On The Boogie and Can You Feel It?

What's this show they're on? I don't think it's Soul Train, the studio and stage layout don't look right. Nor do the audience, who seem more of a mixed racial bag than Soul Train's audience ever were.

Whatever show it is, the canned audience seem to be getting well into it.

Sadly, for me, it seems to be dragging on forever.

Jimmy's strangling a woman as we go into a track I don't recognise that's acting as the show's play-out. For a moment it sounds like Cliff Richard then suddenly sounds like Jamiroquai. I brilliantly conclude it's neither of them but don't conclude who it actually is and can therefore only watch in cluelessness as the show fades out.

Well that all flew by. All in all, I think that was one of my favourite editions of the show so far. I don't think I disliked anything aside from from the Jacksons and, apart from it dragging on too long, I don't actively mind that one either. Some people might say I should have disliked the Botherhood of Man and Paul Nicholas but they're always so smiley and glad to be there, how could I ever hope to take against them?

Top of the Pops: 9th June, 1977.

The usual problems finding a decent free-use image of
any of tonight's acts, so here's Tomb Raider and
Alexander sex-bomb Angelia Jolie.
Almost uniquely, Angelina Jolie has no valid links to
Top of the Pops.
By Angelina-Jolie. jpg: www.promiflash.de
- Bitte bei Bildverwendung auch Link setzen derivative
work: Born Slippy (Angelina-Jolie.jpg) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],
via Wikimedia Commons

The nation's greatest banks may currently be facing bankruptcy and desertion thanks to the revelation they've been fiddling  interest rates but, no matter what the interest level Top of the Pops generates, we return to it time and time again.

Who'll achieve chart solvency tonight and who'll merely drive us to solvent abuse?

Only Tony Blackburn can tell us. For it is he who is to guide us through the balance sheets of history.

We launch into the show with the continuity announcer telling us we're going to be treated to Bob Marley and the Wurzels. I don't know about you but Bob Marley and the Wurzels were my favourite group of the 1970s.

Not my favourite group of the 1970s are the first act on – mostly because I don't have a clue who they are.

That's because Top of the Pops is continuing its grand tradition of kicking off each show with an act and a track I don't recognise. Just how did the producers way back in 1977 know just what acts I'd have heard of in 2012?

Whoever they are, one of them has a cape. Capes are always impressive on a singer.

Is this Osibisa? I have no reason to think it is other than it might be.

Whatever it is, it's all very cheery and summery, though I suspect I won't remember it for more than thirty seconds after it's over.

It is Osibisa. Well done to me. Yet again my stunning knowledge of music pulls me through.

Now it's ELO and Telephone Line. It's the same video as the other week - and it's still one of my favourite ELO songs.

It's clearly not one of the producer's favourite ELO songs, as, three-quarters of the way through, it has a dirty great edit inflicted on it that's so devoid of subtlety you wonder if it was done with a lawn mower.

Now it's Gladys Knight and the Pips with Baby Don't Change Your Mind. It's on video and it's all very 1970s.

I think this may be the first time I've ever seen what Gladys Knight looks like. Somehow I always imagined her differently. The woman in the video seems far too young and small to be Gladys Knight.

Still, they all seem very happy people and that makes me pleased for them.

Gladys has gone and, for a moment, I get all excited thinking I can hear the strains of Billy Don't Be a Hero as Tony does his next link.

Tragically it's not Paper Lace at all. In fact it's turned out to be Neil Innes with a song I don't recognise.

Frankly, I don't want to recognise it. It's about the Queen and it's not exactly the Sex Pistols.

In fact it's positively puke-inducing. I'm listening hard to see if I can hear any signs of subversive irony in it all but it seems to be a straight tribute to the Her Maj. Frankly, in my eyes, this isn't doing Neil's standing a lot of good.

“Sailing on the yacht Britannia,” he sings. “Nowhere in the world would ban yer.” It's like he's desperately trying to undo all the good-will generated by his work with the Rutles.

That was genuinely appalling and makes you realise what some people'll do to try and get a knighthood.

In total contrast, you get the feeling the Stranglers'd just give a knighthood the good kicking it deserves...

...because they're back - and still in, “Evil Chas and Dave,” mode.

Thanks to Neil Innes, I'm enjoying this a lot more than I probably should be.

As though Greece hasn't suffered enough, Demis Roussos is back – this time with a strangely Scottish-sounding song.

It brings to mind the Goombay Dance Band - and I don't care what anyone says, that can't be a good thing.

He's hiding behind ferns, like a sniper who doesn't believe the war's over.

The way he's looking at the microphone you just know he's desperate to eat it.

Honky are with us.

Is this the song they did the other week or is it another one?

Whatever it is, the singer's still as unpleasant and disturbing as he was before. I really do feel he should have been banned from television.

Next, it's Legs and Company dancing to Show You The Way To Go by the Jacksons.

They've borrowed Demis Roussos's vegetation.

For some reason, the sun behind them's started flashing. Is Flick Colby sure the sun's meant to do things like that?

As promised before the show, it's Bob Marley.

Disgracefully, he's dumped the Wurzels and is hanging around with some other bunch called the Wailers.

I don't care who they are. They'll never have the magic of the Wurzels.

They're doing Exodus which I've never found to be one of his more interesting songs, mostly because it sounds like he's just making it up as he goes along and randomly throwing in the sort of words and phrases that'll make it sound like it's about something.

It's no I Am a Cider Drinker, that's for sure. Oh Bob, did you really not realise how much you needed Adge Cutler?

From someone who needs Adge to someone who needs a kick in the nadgers because Rod Stewart's still at Number 1! Is there to be no escape from that man's backside?

There is now because Rod's finally gone, and we're playing out with Emerson Lake and Palmer's Fanfare for the Common Man. This is more like it. It might all be a bit Prog but it's a cut above most of the acts on tonight.

I can't say it was a riveting show. The highlights were the Stranglers and ELO with performances we've already seen before. Lowlights have to have been the singer of Honky, Neil Innes' dismal bandwagon-jumping and the total absence of the Wurzels.

Still, we did get to see Bob Marley, even if it wasn't one my faves by him, we got to wave our little Union Jacks at something and I finally found out what Gladys Knight looks like.

Top of the Pops: 26th May, 1977.

In the absence of a free-use image of any of tonight's acts,
here's a photo of Twilight sexpot Kristen Stewart at Wondercon
2012.
Kristen Stewart has a very large chin. Nicky Chinn has written
very many large chart hits. Therefore Kristen Stewart has many
valid links with Top of the Pops.
Photo by Gage Skidmore
[CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)]
via Wikimedia Commons.

Football fever may be sweeping Europe even as I speak but there's only one goal that matters to the wise man.

And that's getting to Number 1 in 1977.

In that quest to reach the top, who'll smash it in from 35 yards and who'll score a pitiful own goal that has his own fans booing him off at half-time?

Only the man my late father used to know as Dave Lee Travesty can tell us. For it is he who's to guide us through the congested midfield of nostalgia and spray his balls deep and wide into the corridors of uncertainty.

We kick off with the original Blue, yet again getting the first, unannounced, slot on the show.

Sadly, the early start hasn't fired them up with enthusiasm. Their performance is as lacklustre as their previous one.

They're still going to take their soul to town but they're still not telling us what they're going to do with it when they get there. I like to think they're going to sell it to Satan but, given their dullness, I fear such melodrama to be beyond them.

But they've drifted away on the breeze and we're suddenly blessed with Olivia Newton John and Sam.

It's all very pleasant but I really don't have anything to say about it. Who could've thought when we were first hearing this that, a year later, she'd be giving us some of the most iconic pop moments of the 1970s?

It's the return of Liverpool Express. For such a barely remembered act, it really is amazing just how often they managed to be on TOTP.

Whatever the song is, it's not off to a promising start. So far, it's flatlining as badly as all their other stuff. I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that Liverpool Express were the Mogadon Smokie.

Would that make them Smogadon?

Didn't Godzilla once have a fight with Smogadon? If he didn't, he should have. After all, if Godzilla won't keep us safe from the terror of Smogadon then who will?

Not Dave Lee Travis, that's for sure. Now the song's finally curled up and died, he's up on stage with the culprits, doing something that approximates an interview. Such is the power of Dave Lee Travis that, within seconds of him joining them, Liverpool Express are trying to kill him. All of a sudden I'm warming to them.

Now it's Legs and Co and something that's clearly meant to be Chinese.

In fact it's meant to be Japanese because it's Bryan Ferry with Tokyo Joe.

It's another track I have very little to say about.

That's not the case with our next turn because, from out of the blue, we launch into the Stranglers with Go Buddy Go.

This is more like it.

Or is it?

Something's not quite right here. I was anticipating snarly spleen-venting and hard-core contempt but, in truth, they seem rather jolly. In all honesty the thing seems to owe more to Chas and Dave than it does to the Sex Pistols.

We get the keyboard solo and it's all starting to sound like the Only Fools and Horses theme. You have to say it's no No More Heroes.

Also no No More Heroes is Marie Myriam with this year's Eurovision winner.

This is quite nice. It's certainly better than Rock Bottom and she seems far less sinister than Lynsey De Paul.

It's one of those songs that doesn't really go anywhere and, so, craftily makes up for it by constantly building as it goes along.

Next up it's ELO and Telephone Line. DLT does the joke about them being from Yorkshire - the one he seemed to do every single time he ever played them on the radio.

Matching the debut of the Stranglers for out-of-the-blueness, is the left-field return of Brendon with another of his smashes. This time it's a thing that seems to be called Rock Me.

And this is weird because I quickly realise I remember this.

How can it be?

How can I remember a Brendon song? What madness is this that's come over me?

But this is strangely endearing.

He's doing his best to get the audience going.

And he's actually succeeding. The famously apathetic TOTP audience is actually clapping along with him. I do feel that in many ways Brendon has been the true star of TOTP since these repeats began, if only for his ability to engage with the audience in a way few acts seemed able to.

But now Brendon's gone and it's time for this week's Number 1. The half hour's flown by and we're back with Rod and his musical arse.

Appropriately, bearing in mind that this post began with European football talk, we play-out with the Liverpool team who've just won the European Cup.

In fairness it's about as close to punk as the Stranglers were.

So there we are. The Stranglers were a disappointment to me, bringing far too much pub and too little punk to the table. Brendon scored a personal triumph by getting the audience to notice he existed, and Liverpool Express almost killed Dave Lee Travesty. I don't think this week's show'll go down as a classic but at least we can't claim it was devoid of incident.