Hits of summers past
Philip Matthews recalls a time when glorious Saturday afternoons in summer ended at 6pm when Ready to Roll came on.
Was the past really better than the present? Or does your memory play tricks on you?
A few years ago I went through a phase of reading everything by the Japanese writer Yukio Mishima. His career ended in the four-part Sea of Fertility series, with the last part,
The Decay of the Angel, undermining everything that went before it. There was a great quote I never forgot, which comes up when Shigekuni Honda, the main character, realises that his life’s mission has been in vain (that’s a spoiler).
‘‘Memory is like a phantom mirror,’’ Honda is told. ‘‘It sometimes shows things too distant to be seen, and it sometimes shows them as if they were here.’’
But, but. That means –
It can be like that when you try to grasp the summers of your childhood. They lasted longer, the weather was sunnier, the grass was greener. But you also suspect it wasn’t really like that.
Were even the songs better? Glorious Saturday afternoons in summer ended at 6pm when Ready to
Roll came on and the top-20 countdown started.
In a time of two TV channels, the singles charts were a national soundtrack and talking point. Do you know what is number one right now? Do even your kids know? Yet men of a certain age can still tell you that Joy Division had two number one singles in New Zealand in 1981. But appropriately, they both hit number one in winter and are thus outside the scope of this essay.
So, were the songs really better? They certainly stuck around for longer and became more embedded in collective memory. Boney M’s
Rivers of Babylon was top of the charts for a ridiculous 14 weeks in 1978. It was one nation under an earworm in a time of limited choices. So here are 10 summer number ones to test our theories and memories.
Mull of Kintyre by Wings.
This was at number one for seven long weeks over the summer of 1977-78. One of the three best solo singles by a Beatle (see also: My
Sweet Lord and Instant Karma), it was Paul and Linda McCartney’s rousing and sentimental tribute to their farm in Scotland. Lovely. And the feelings it evokes only deepen when you read that Paul stopped visiting it after Linda’s death in 1998. Still a classic? Yes.
Dreadlock Holiday by 10cc.
This joke song about not understanding reggae was at the top for three weeks over the summer of 1978-79. And it sounds like summer. But it also sounds like a white guy who is terrified of being humiliated by black men while on holiday in Jamaica. It’s racist, in other words. Still a classic? Never was.
Jezebel by Jon Stevens.
He was the teenage sensation from Lower Hutt, barely 18 when this raunchy song about an older woman topped the chart for eight steamy weeks in the summer of 1979-80. It was so massive only Stevens himself could displace it with his second single Montego Bay. But Stevensmania was sadly short-lived. Still a classic? Easily.
Another Brick in the Wall Part 2
by Pink Floyd.
You had probably just gone back to school when this anti-education anthem topped the charts in February 1980 and stayed there for five weeks. The video was nightmarish and went over your head: all those fascist marching hammers and kids turned into mincemeat. It’s as bitter as anything punk came up with, but you could dance to it. Still a classic? Undoubtedly.
Shaddap You Face by Joe Dolce.
This Australian-Italian novelty song somehow stayed at the top for eight weeks during the very strange summer of 1980-1981. Good luck finding anyone who admits to buying it. Still a classic? I looked up the Italian word for ‘‘no’’. It’s ‘‘no’’.
The Tide is High by Blondie.
It took a reggae-fied Debbie Harry to knock Dolce’s Italian comedy record from the top in February 1981 and it stayed there for two weeks. While
Heart of Glass was a bigger hit for Blondie – four weeks at number one in 1979 – a grateful nation never forgot. Still a classic? Absolutely.
How Great Thou Art by Howard
Morrison.
Can you believe that Sir Howard’s rendering of this mighty hymn was number one for eight weeks over the summer of 1981-82? They were fractious times in New Zealand and perhaps this song from another age was reassuring. Still a classic? Timelessly.
Pass the Dutchie by Musical
Youth.
A reggae novelty hit that school gossip told you was secretly about
In a time of two TV channels, the singles charts were a national soundtrack and talking point.
smoking weed topped the charts in green, leafy New Zealand for seven weeks in the summer of 1982-83. It was a multi-million-selling popular cover version of a reggae original. Still a classic? Herbally.
Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye.
A year before he was shot dead by his father, Gaye topped the chart for six weeks in the summer of 1982-83. Rock critic Dave Marsh called
Sexual Healing ‘‘a polemic for the power of rampant humping’’. Still a classic? Sweatily.
Do They Know It’s Christmas? by
Band Aid.
Bob Geldof saw starving kids on TV and got his address book out. Bono, Sting, Duran Duran, Bananarama: they all turned up. This all-star charity single feels like the musical version of Love Actually. It’s naff, it’s obvious and it’s hard to completely hate it, no matter that it makes patronising errors. Of course they know it’s Christmas, and yes, there is snow in Africa. This was number one for four weeks in February 1985, by which time the US answer song,
We Are the World, was already recorded and ready to go. Yet somehow the US song was worse despite having better talent (Bob Dylan, Michael Jackson). Still a classic? As sure as there is snow in Africa.