One-Hit Wonders, Part Two

We left off yesterday with all the pure one-hit wonders - acts with a Number One hit on the Billboard chart, but no other songs that reached the Top Forty - through 1970. Now we pick up the action in the spring of '73 - the charts went more than three full years without a one-hit chart-topper. Even Billy Paul, of "Me and Mrs. Jones" fame, eked his way up to Number 37 in 1974 with a song called "Thanks for Saving My Life."

Vicki Lawrence, "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia," went to Number One in April 1973 Written by her then-husband, Bobby Russell, who also inflicted upon the world Bobby Goldsboro's much-maligned "Honey."

Stories, "Brother Louie," August 1973 This was a cover of a song by Hot Chocolate, who later hit big with "You Sexy Thing."

Terry Jacks, "Seasons in the Sun," March 1974 Earlier done by Jacques Brel and the Kingston Trio, this became the biggest-selling single ever by a Canadian artist.

MFSB featuring the Three Degrees, "TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia)," April 1974 You might not want to count this one, since they were the house band for Philadelphia International.

Paper Lace, "The Night Chicago Died," August 1974 Chuck Eddy has credited this song with inventing rap.

Billy Swan, "I Can Help," November 1974 Despite being a one-hit wonder, Swan has a huge reputation in the music world, and has been a longtime sideman for Kris Kristofferson.

Carl Douglas, "Kung Fu Fighting," December 1974 The first Jamaican-born artist to have a Number One hit in the U.S., Douglas released a follow-up single called "Dance the Kung Fu."

Minnie Riperton, "Lovin' You," April 1975 Minnie was dead of cancer four years later, though not before she gave birth to future SNL star Maya Rudolph. Also, I believe, the last person with a chart hit who was named "Minnie."

Van McCoy, "The Hustle," July 1975 Also tragically died early, of a heart attack in 1979 at the age of 39.

Starland Vocal Band, "Afternoon Delight," July 1976 Happy Bicentennial! They managed to parlay this into a network-TV variety show.

Wild Cherry, "Play That Funky Music," September 1976 The B-side was a cover of "I Feel Sanctified" by the Commodores.

Walter Murphy and the Big Apple Band, "A Fifth of Beethoven," October 1976 Walter Murphy played nearly everything on the record, but the label felt it would sell better if it was credited to a group.

Rick Dees and His Cast of Idiots, "Disco Duck," October 1976 The non-hit follow-up was "Disco-rilla."

David Soul, "Don't Give Up on Us," April 1977 At least that's one more hit than Starsky ever had.

Bill Conti, "Gonna Fly Now," July 1977 He did write another big hit, Sheena Easton's title track from his score for 'For Your Eyes Only.'

Alan O'Day, "Undercover Angel," July 1977 It's been done.

Nick Gilder, "Hot Child in the City," October 1978 He later co-wrote the Scandal hit "The Warrior."

Amii Stewart, "Knock on Wood," April 1979 Let's hope this put a few bucks in Steve Cropper's pocket. Stewart has been a pretty big star in Italy, where she has lived since 1982.

Anita Ward, "Ring My Bell," June 1979 She was a schoolteacher before this song hit; it's always nice to have something to fall back on.

M, "Pop Muzik," November 1979 It peaked at Number Two in M's native U.K., unable to dislodge Art Garfunkel's "Bright Eyes" out of the top spot.

Lipps, Inc., "Funkytown," May 1980 The genius behind Lipps, Inc. was, swear to God, a guy named Steven Greenberg.

One-Hit Wonders, Part One

One thing I wanted to do was put together a canonical list of all the true one-hit wonders: the artists who had a song go to Number One, then never again reached the Top Forty. I figured this was the kind of thing that happens maybe once a year - it seems like any old schlub who has a Number One hit would then carry enough clout to put at least one more song on the charts. Even Bobby "Boris" Pickett had another hit song, "Monsters' Holiday," which is apparently some sort of Christmas version of the "Monster Mash" and went to Number 30 right after Christmas 1962.

But there sure are a bunch of these. As a result, I'm going to break the list up into segments, starting tonight from the inception of the Hot 100 on October 13, 1958, and carrying through to 1970:

The Teddy Bears, "To Know Him Is to Love Him," went to Number One in December 1958 This one almost doesn't count, since one of the Teddy Bears was future murderer Phil Spector.

Mark Dinning, "Teen Angel," February 1960 The song that stepped off the teen-death craze.

The Hollywood Argyles, "Alley-Oop," July 1960 The chief Argyle, Gary Paxton, was also the leader of Bobby "Boris" Pickett's Crypt-Kicker Six.

Larry Verne, "Mr. Custer," October 1960 His only other chart action, "Mr. Livingston," about the explorer, I presume, stalled out at Number 75.

Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, "Stay," November 1960 At 1:39, the shortest Number One ever. The Four Seasons took it to Number Sixteen in 1964.

Ernie K-Doe, "Mother-in-Law," May 1961 Warren Zevon later covered his "A Certain Girl," on 'Bad Luck Streak in Dancing School.'

Bruce Channel, "Hey! Baby," March 1962 Delbert McClinton blows harp on this, and it was when Channel was touring with the Beatles that McClinton famously taught John Lennon to play the harmonica.

Mr. Acker Bilk, "Stranger on the Shore," May 1962 A clarinet instrumental that is certainly one of the least-remembered Number Ones of all time.

David Rose, "The Stripper," July 1962 It sure seems like a lot of instrumentalists end up as one-hit wonders.

The Tornados, "Telstar," December 1962 Our third and final one-hit instrumental of 1962, and by far the best.

Kyu Sakamoto, "Sukiyaki," June 1963 The Japanese title was Ue o muite arukō, or "I look up when I walk."

The Singing Nun, "Dominique," December 1963 Debbie Reynolds played her in the movie version.

Lorne Greene, "Ringo," December 1964 The last-ever spoken-word Number One. Maybe the only one.

The New Vaudeville Band, "Winchester Cathedral," December 1966 Their leader also wrote "There's a Kind of Hush" and "The Crying Game."

John Fred and His Playboy Band, "Judy in Disguise (With Glasses)," January 1968 While the Beatles were off in India, three straight one-hit wonders sneaked onto the top of the charts.

The Lemon Pipers, "Green Tambourine," February 1968 Written by the same guy who wrote "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye [see below]." There was actually an album that came out in 2001 called 'Green Tambourine: The Best of the Lemon Pipers.'

Paul Mauriat, "Love Is Blue," February 1968 Mauriat contributed to another Number One, as the co-composer of "I Will Follow Him," by Little Peggy March.

Hugh Masekela, "Grazing in the Grass," July 1968 Masekela plays trumpet on the Byrds' "So You Wanna Be a Rock and Roll Star."

Jeannie C. Riley, "Harper Valley P.T.A.," September 1968 Written by Tom T. Hall.

Zager & Evans, "In the Year 2525 (Exordium & Terminus)," July 1969 Also went to Number One in the U.K., making Z&E the only act to be pure one-hit wonders both here and in Great Britain.

Steam, "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye," December 1969 This was of course a studio-only group, but when the song hit, mastermind Paul Leka put together a band called Steam to tour behind it. Amazingly, that band broke up before they ever went on the tour, so Leka had to then put together another touring group.

The Shocking Blue, "Venus," February 1970 Nirvana's first-ever single, and the first record in Sub Pop's Single of the Month Club, was a cover of the Shocking Blue's "Love Buzz."

Green Revival

Green Day's new album, 21st Century Breakdown, was released on Friday, and as usual, OPC is a bit late with its commentary, but what the heck. What do you guys think of Green Day as the modern equivalent of CCR?

Both bands are from the Bay Area, but from the working-class parts, so they come by their populism and their liberal political outrage honestly. Each has a singer-songwriter-guitarist backed by a rubber-band-tight rhythm section, most of whom had been playing together since high school. They're both really good.

The biggest difference is that Creedence worked hard and died young, while Green Day - the punk band - has now stretched its career over more than two decades. Despite this, 21st Century Breakdown is the album that finally makes the Green Day discography heftier than CCR's; it's their eighth studio album, and Creedence managed to put out seven from 1968 to 1972.

I suppose I'd have to grant that Creedence Clearwater Revival was the better band, on both peak and career value. "Fortunate Son" is nigh-impossible to surpass. On the other hand, no one in CCR ever had a name as great as "Tre Cool."

The Clash on Broadway

I mentioned the other day that the Clash made their American television debut on ABC's Fridays in April 1980. This was the start of kind of a whirlwind tour of late-night TV for the boys. They did the requisite stop on Saturday Night Live in October 1982, on a show hosted by Ron Howard, but more interestingly, they also appeared on the Tomorrow show just after Sandinista! came out in 1981.

Those of you who know Tom Snyder only from his parodies on SNL might want to check this out: He is respectful of and curious about the band, and Topper Headon repays his interest by sticking a Clash button in his lapel. The boys are relaxed and jovial, even though they're all four crammed on some kind of plastic bench.

The Clash did "The Magnificent Seven" on that show, in all probability introducing rap to the Tomorrow show, as well as "This Is Radio Clash," whose herky-jerky rhythms were apparently hard to reproduce live. For musical performances, the real keeper remains that first one: They played "London Calling" and "Train in Vain" back to back, and in keeping with Fridays' pre-Seinfeld theme, Mick Jones looked like a very young Jerry in a big grape-colored suit:

Ho Ho Ho pt. 2

How many Weezer songs have wordless choruses? There's "Dope Nose," "Perfect Situation," and I feel like I'm missing a couple of others.

The irony is, of course, Rivers is hilarious. If he wanted to put some great lines in the chorus of "Dope Nose," I'm sure he could have. But he chose not to.

Now Taking Requests

We'll be doing our annual One-Hit Wonder week at the beginning of the summer this year. The one song I known I am going to cover is "Come On Eileen," by Dexy's Midnight Runners, but the other four slots are still up in the air.

In case you're late to the party, here are the songs we've previously given a full run-through in One-Hit Wonder Week:

"O-o-h Child," by the Five Stairsteps

"Tubthumping," by Chumbawamba

"Undercover Angel," by Alan O'Day

"You Were on My Mind," by We Five

"Fade Into You," by Mazzy Star

"Telstar," by the Tornados

"Steal My Sunshine," by Len

"Magic," by Pilot

"Cars," by Gary Numan

"I've Never Been to Me," by Charlene

Off the Wagon

This morning on the radio I heard "Keep On Loving You," from REO Speedwagon, the finest rock & roll band ever to come out of Belleville, Illinois. Right after Kevin Cronin, in his finest downstate drawl, sings, "Instead you lay still in the grass, all coiled up and hissing," I thought I heard a faint sound effect like a rattlesnake rattling.

I've never noticed that before, but that doesn't mean a whole lot; it took me a long time to even understand what Cronin was saying in that line, so it's not like I ever went listening for a snake. It may be that the rattler had been swallowed up by the AM radio all these years - and if ever a song deserved to be heard on a staticky handheld transistor, it's "Keep On Loving You."

Most of all, if there is a little sound effect in there, it ranks by far as the most subtle thing REO Speedwagon ever did.

Friday on My Mind

Back on 1980, the big brains at the ABC television network came up with the idea for a show called Fridays. The idea was it would be exactly like NBC's Saturday Night Live, except it would air one night earlier. I couldn't tell you if it was funny or not; although I vaguely remember watching a bit of it, I don't recall any specifics, and it's not been rerun since the 1980s, nor released on video.

The putative breakout star of Fridays was a guy named Mark Blankfield, who parlayed that notoriety into the starring role in the 1982 film Jekyll and Hyde... Together Again. Since then, he's been doing things like guest-starring on Charles in Charge and starring in the TV movie The Jerk, Too. By far the biggest talents on Fridays were Michael Richards and Larry David. It's not surprising that David failed to break out, though, since he's a brilliant writer but such a poor comic actor.

The one way in which Fridays tried to differentiate itself from SNL was through edgier comedy, such as a cannibalistic skit set in a zombie diner, which supposedly resulted in six ABC affiliates to stop carrying the show. This attitude also lent itself to the musical acts, which is why I mention this series at all. I recently saw the Pretenders lighting up a song called "Louie, Louie," their third number in their Fridays appearance on September 18, 1981. Live performances by the original Pretenders quartet are hard to come by, but all the ones I've seen have been scorching.

Fridays also featured acts like the Jam, Split Enz, the Tubes, Jim Carroll, Rockpile, and the Clash in their first time on AmericanTV in April 1980, shortly after London Calling came out. A DVD of Fridays musical performances would be totally hot. Supposedly, Michael Richards has the right to sign off on any DVD release of the show, which doesn't make any sense to me, since he wasn't a big deal back when it was airing.

Fortunately, a bunch of this stuff is on YouTube. Come on, Kramer, pull the trigger; here's what we're missing:

Talk Talk

Our pal Jim Bartlett over at The Hits Just Keep On Comin' recently posted a video of a David Bowie song called "Stay," off of Station to Station. The most noteworthy thing about this is its source: It was on Dinah Shore's daytime talk show from 1975. Imagine that: A bunch of housewives turned on the TV thinking they were going to see Hope Lange or George Gobel, and they got the Thin White Friggin' Duke.

These talk shows used to be a lot hipper than they are now. Everyone's heard about that infamous week in 1972 when John and Yoko cohosted on the Mike Douglas show: The guest list was tailored to John and Yoko's style, with people like Ralph Nader and Bobby Seale and George Carlin. Chuck Berry came on, too, and performed with John; it was supposedly horrible. Then there was time Lennon and McCartney went on the Tonight Show to announce the formation of Apple. Unfortunately, Johnny was off that night, and in his stead was Joe Garagiola, who didn't know the Beatles from Earl Battey.

But we were talking about Bowie and Dinah Shore. If you watch her interviewing him, like here and here, you can tell she's really interested in his work and has paid attention to his artistry. Dinah points out that Bowie's wardrobe and dance moves seem steeped in the 1930s and gets him to talk about influences like Puerto Rican clothes and Bryan Ferry; this is miles ahead of anything Jay Leno asks his guests. Plus, Nancy Walker and Henry Winkler were also guests on the show, and you get to hear Bowie say, "I'm a great fan of Fonzie."

Anyway, here's the song:

Funeral for a Friend

Is there any song that sounds more like New York City than "People Who Died" by the Jim Carroll Band? You've got all those locations like Rikers and the Tombs and the East Two-Nine, kids growing up too fast, and prodigious drug use. You've got noisy, not particularly well-played punk music. You've got all that death. It's like an episode of Barney Miller telescoped into a single four-minute punk song.

In that song, Jim Carroll lists, by my count, thirteen people who died. They were all his friends, and they died. It seems like more because he repeats half the song at the end, but I don't think even a degenerate like Jim Carroll could convince people that he had 24 friends who died.

If you asked me to count, I don't think I would be able to scrape up even 24 friends who lived. (Somehow, I have managed to amass 92 friends on Facebook; don't ask me how that happened.) On the other hand, hardly any of my friends have died. If you're wondering whether to befriend Jim Carroll or me, the choice ought to be obvious.