TOTP 29/9/77 (tx 25/10/12): goodbuzzingcoolwalkinghightalkingfastlivingevergivingcoolfizzin... Stewpot

An actual recap by me of a show actually that went out! I know!

We start with a close-up of... some sort of robot. It's being held, it turns out, by Ed Stewart, who pretends it actually is Tony Blackburn before hurredly adding before Oxygene drowns him out "Tony's lost his voice, I'm here instead, so welcome!" It must be some tonsil problem Tony had as he didn't reappear on the show for two and a half months. Unless there's something else... he did seperate from Tessa Wyatt in autumn 1977*, it says here... As for Stewport we saw him cadging for names for the new dance troupe eleven months ago and he did a wiped show in December '76, but this would be his thirtieth and last TOTP fling before concentrating on Junior Choice and Crackerjack, two shows you'd imagine would require quite some concentration.

(* Tony says the famous on-air breakdown was in October 1976 but he seemed quite chipper doing a show that month, even having time to pop down the T-shirt printers, so who knows really)

Rose Royce – Do Your Dance
So none of them are actually half-cleaned Escorts? I feel I've been lied to. No excuse for a file photo any more, they've come mob handed, big horn section, guitarist and bassist grinning madly at each other, Rose Norwalt/Gwen Dickey - one and the same - and her exotic braids seemingly singing into a rose (do you see?) at first, though it's just next to the mike. Backing vocalists sprout up all over the place, from congas to middle trumpet. There's the mark of a band not taking any chances with the orchestra.

David Soul – Silver Lady
Still no sign of him in this country but he's happy enough walking the streets and hills of... somewhere American. In the grand mid-70s tradition we saw Leo Sayer also uphold last week it's a clip made entirely by pointing a camera at the star and getting him to wander aimlessly, pausing at one point to shake somebody's hand. That's how famous he is, and also how casual he slips into his fame. Like Leo, lipsync and matching the edit to the song's rhythmic pace are for other people. Unlike Leo, he's got a motorbike to swank about on for a bit and some well tended gardens to shepherd his lady through.

Bob Marley & The Wailers – Waiting In Vain
Legs & Co, and nothing says Rastafari irie like some waltzing in dresses made from net curtains. Cream jackets offset all the skirt swishing about and transparency. What this has to do with the song or rhythm... maybe they didn't have too much time.

Peter Blake – Lipsmackin' Rock 'N' Rollin'
Not that Peter Blake, but the one who would go on to play Kirk St Moritz in Dear John. You remember. Introduced as "a newcomer to TOTP" for now he's a stereotypical rock and roll revivalist and one who's aware of what that means at this precise moment too - studded leather jacket, pompadour quiff, vintage Levis - to distract from the fact that he's also a poor second to Danny Williams as a song derived from a drink advert. The audience in the round are for their part swaying gladly and Blake's going to play to them, running his hand through one girl's hair in passing, realising that wasn't the wisest option and seemingly slapping another upside the head. Intriguingly, the verse tune is practically identical to the following year's Greased Lightning, pre-chorus pauses and all. You can definitely sing one over the other. There's even a dubious car reference towards the end. Hmmm...

Ram Jam – Black Betty
"Tomorrow Radio 1 is ten years old and so is Radio 2. Welcome Ram Jam at number 18!" Surely there was supposed to be something in the middle there. TOTP did actually have a special edition for the station's fifteenth birthday, from which show the celebrated DJs dancing to Adam Ant clip comes (and Jocky Wilson Said, actually). As for Ram Jam they're playing in someone's garden being watched by all manner of dubious characters, including two girls on a stationary motorbike, one holding a plastic cup, and one man dancing and clapping wildly above his head who seems to have invegilated himself among the band. He's actually standing next to the drum riser. Ram Jam look much as you'd imagine they would. Just before the end we see two men off to the far side having a chat while leaning against some abandoned amps, apparently unaware that rock is occurring just next to them.

David Essex – Cool Out Tonight
The show's moving at a fair old clip tonight, without apparent extra modern editing we're six songs in after twelve and a half minutes. Playing in front of a humungous glitterball and a two thirds as large baseball David's permanently got his guitar on tonight and the saxophonist still isn't touching the instrument that's strapped to him when there's a tambourine to shake instead. The middle eight sees David's head briefly encased in an oval frame, because that's what successful people get. Probably. Something else that happens to famous people is nobody advises them not to ad lib "ba boom ba dum" mid-line. "A good year for David" Stewpot surmises.

The Stylistics – I Plead Guilty
It doesn't bode well that the orchestra turn the intro into contemporary family sitcom incidental music, I know that much. Stewpot's link is entirely off camera, which kind of fits the commercial and critical downslide the band are on - this didn't chart and they'd never make the top 75 again, though being TOTP they'd be back in the studio once more in 1978. Russell Thompkins Jr still looks permanently surprised but he somehow fits the band uniform of canary yellow better. Incidentally the Stylistics are in the country for the whole of November. Two of these five, not including Thompkins Jr, remain. It's unclear whether the one sporting the same hair and beard arrangement as Peter Sutcliffe is one.

Donna Summer – I Remember Yesterday
What at first looks like a video purely of stills turns into Donna in full white suit with bow tie and top hat doing cabaret dancing on the spot in a spotlight. Her miming clarinet playing would do Flick proud. It's all very nice but this isn't the futuro-diva we were promised a couple of months back.

Golden Earring – Radar Love
"A sound with a difference" Stewpot calls this, which is curious for a show that's already featured Black Betty. They may actually be playing live, there's certainly the ballsy commitment and muso concentration to suggest so as singer Barry Hay thrusts forward in his red wrapround shades. The drummer fancies himself for notice in a Bruce Lee (later Kill Bill) replica tracksuit. Of course the audience are unsure what to make of this rhythm and rock explosion. How's he got his hands wet inside the car? Window broken?

Elvis Presley – Way Down
And this week's iteration of Legs & Co sees Sue and Rosie... not there. Maybe they got bored of the same song again and again after weeks of I Feel Love too. The remaining Legs are paired off, one on the stage opposite Toppotron™, one on the nearer side, all in a very thrown together outfit of pink bra and pants with remnants of a grass skirt attached to the latter. We know they're not averse to digging out old costumes but such is the half-light they're performing in it really wouldn't make a difference here. In the audience one couple embark on what looks like the full American Smooth. There's a couple of others pairing off, but the overall dancing message is confused. And that's it? Not quite, as Stewpot has one last guest, a "young man" responsible for both this week's playout and the chart still of the week:



With a shirt on this time, though. That'll be Giorgio Moroder, then, pleased to report it's "number one in the discos in the States" and mentioning he "found Donna in Munich three years ago" like she was lost property. Stewpot hopes he'll be "doing well with her and yourself" before a tremendously camp "OK? Byeeeeee!" flourish to finish his stint. Somewhere Tony Blackburn opens another packet of lozenges and phones his lawyer.

The disappeared: 2/12/76

Missing post-April show seven of eight, and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason why the wiped set were from the first three months and last two of the year. Ed Stewart's in charge, doing so well he won't be invited back for another nine months. Stewart will be part of your Christmas festive entertainment, taking charge of Junior Choice on its annual 9am Christmas Day revival on Radio 2.

Actually, before we start, that reminds me - next Monday, the 19th, at 10pm on Radio 2 is a documentary about TV dance troupes, fronted by Arlene Phillips but her Hot Gossip are the only non-TOTP team mentioned in the station's description. Yes, even ver Flipper get a look-in.

Smokie – Living Next Door To Alice
Yes, alright, there was this notorious cover, but that was itself a cover - apparently it was well known for a cafe in Nijmegen, Holland to play the track, fade it down at the end of the chorus and everyone present to shout that rejoiner back. A record company man visited the cafe one evening, saw this in action and got to work on a version, which Smokie and Chubby themselves reworked. Just to add a further layer of obfustication, the source material is also a cover, a Chinn-Chapman song originally recorded by Australian vocal trio New World. You will all being well see this performed on the show eventually anyway, on the first TOTP of 1977.

Mud – Lean On Me
Les glasses on or Les glasses off, do you reckon?

Tina Charles – Dr Love
As with Smokie this reappears at the start of the new year after falling victim to a good solid wiping. Let's face it, though, this was only ever going to be the second most notable disco Doctorate song of 1976.

Queen – Somebody To Love
Legs & Co continue their rock interpretation sideline with the car insurance shilling choral wonder supposedly intended as the new Bohemian Rhapsody.

Barry White – Don’t Make Me Wait Too Long
Don't know what the promised video version would have entailed, but as usual I see faint images of dry ice, shots from below into the lights and ungainly close-ups of a sweaty brow.

Johnny Mathis – When A Child Is Born (Soleado)
A warning shot across the bows of a future number one.

Yvonne Elliman – Love Me
Electric Light Orchestra – Livin’ Thing
These were both on the last wiped show, also in video form, and in this precise order too. Someone getting lazy at the end of the year? I know the Christmas show production is a big commitment, but...

Showaddywaddy – Under The Moon Of Love
A brand new number one! And they couldn't be bothered to return to the studio and record it all again. Maybe the changeover stuff took too much out of them last time.

TOTP 21/10/76 (tx 3/11/11): this competition is now closed

Parish notice first: were you in the audience for a TOTP recording in 1977? A BBC4 team are putting together the launch documentary for next year's rerun fun and want to hear from you if you were, by emailing david.maguire(at)bbc.co.uk

"Ello darling!" Yeah, of course he'd start like that. Well, here's a turn-up, it's Ed 'Stewpot' Stewart. He was a very occasional visitor to the presenting roster, doing thirty shows between 1968 and 1977, of which still exist... wait for it... three! The last show of 1971 (for which he wears an eyepatch for some reason), a last hurrah in September 1977 and this one. In fact having done 21 shows in 1971 and 1972 he had a three year gap before returning for three in 1975, two in 1976 (a second in December - wiped, of course) and a last hurrah in September 1977. This latter period coincides with his time on Crackerjack*, and he did Junior Choice until 1980, and indeed still does on its annual Christmas Day morning revival on Radio 2. Is he proud of that CV? Will he lose his bearings and attempt to introduce Windmill In Old Amsterdam? Let's see.

Making a return to the countdown is the black and white cutout, this time of Lalo Schifrin smoking a pipe - that was the best promo shot that could be offered? - against a lurid purple backdrop. That sort of low-tech associating got us through that troubled decade together.

(* CRACKERJACK!)

Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel – (I Believe) Love's A Prima Donna
Some rousing organ from a man in the early stages of attempting to look like Roy Wood shepherds in Harley in a red suit, casually leaning on the mike stand before launching into a full set of studied interpretative gestures, never losing eye contact with the camera. So the director decides to test him on that with three sudden and unrepeated wipes to other angles. He nearly misses the first, immediately catches the second and decides not to bother with the third, intenion of staring into your very soul denied. The latest of several things we haven't seen for a while to turn up this week is the punctuative intercut shot of some lights rotating. Unusually, it's the lights rather than the lens that are rotating, though you have to say the studio could do with jazzing up in that respect, it's either moody spotlighting or full-on. As we enter the final stages the guitarist, who looks a bit like Art Garfunkel, comes over to have an arm draped round them Mick Ronson-style, except the effect this time is somewhat different and, had Boy George seen this one instead, might well have turned him straight. "Some lovely guitar work in that as well" Stewpot offers before somewhat ungrammatically suggesting "before you can say Cockney Rebel that'll be up in the charts, I'm sure". It peaked at 41, outside the countdown range. Ah, the TOTP presenter kiss of death.

Demis Roussos – When Forever Has Gone
There's a big announcement and big thread running through the show this week as Stewpot promises a competition, one which "everyone watching this evening has got a chance of winning", as if someone unaware of it might guess the address and question. "Get a pencil and paper within the next fifteen to twenty minutes" he further advises. Now, you know how sometimes Jimmy Savile (RIP) will just carry on for ages at the end of an intro because the timings aren't as they should be? Stewpot seems to have a similar problem here, in that he finds himself needing to string out an intro because the music isn't coming in, but instead of spewing forth filler babble he finds himself going uncomfortably staccato. "Lots of good records. Lots of lovely people on the show. And what better. Next. Number two. In the charts. Demis Roussos." It's like his circuitry was breaking down. This is a different performance to that made at DLT's table side and amid shots of a vast space-like blackness perhaps borrowed from Whistle Test after being shorn of their logo it's the grand return of the Noddy Holder's Hat Memorial many mirrored stage backdrop. Standing here stoutly, someone comes up with the idea of training three cameras at him, one profile, two from either side of the face, capturing every glance aside. He gives his all, we'll say that for him.

Paul Nicholas – Dancing With The Captain
Stewpot is flanked by two young blonde girls in ties, white trousers and untucked shirts, looking vaguely like sailor costumes in fact. "You might recognise two of the faces here" - actually, Ed, there's only two people there, so in that you're asserting nobody recognises your face - "they're two of the daughters of the Beverley sisters, Teddy and Joy", pointing to each in turn. Teddy and Joy were two of the actual Beverley Sisters, so clearly their daughters didn't deserve publicly given names yet. I have consequently no idea if these are the precise daughters of Teddy and Joy who formed a close harmony group called The Foxes,, but from the matching dress you'd imagine so, which would explain why, even in 1976, anyone bar Ed Stewart should care about two of the daughters of the Beverley sisters being introduced to a Top Of The Pops audience. Why might we recognise them anyway if the best Stewpot can come up with is identifying them by their mothers? You might go on to rhetorically ask why a 1976 Top Of The Pops audience should care about the bloke from Godspell prancing in a bowler hat singing about having a party on a ship, but such is pop life. In fact how Stewpot actually ends is "...Teddy and Joy. Here's Paul Nicholas!", so clearly he can't come up with much either. Paul's back in the studio, white jacket and bowler as per, nobody else out to help him this time. This means he has no fallback when he finds he can't help himself on the ad libs. All I'll say is the captain seems to have developed a Jamaican accent. Reggae like it used to be, indeed. Audience members try their best but Nicholas still effortlessly laps them for enthusiasm at this stuff. Orchestra and overmiked Ladybirds make a mess of this, by the way, though it proves they had a specialist penny whistle player.

Rod Stewart – Sailing
Stewpot, sitting at a piano briefly wearing a top hat with an unidentifiable picture in it, reminds us of the pressing need for pencil and paper before promising "lots of good sounds and lots of good sights". If we hadn't been primed by its first appearance his next statement would make for a spectacular non sequitur: "A lot of you saw that marvellous documentary on the HMS Ark Royal. Here's Rod Stewart again". This is the proper video, shot in cinema verite style as Rod in various combinations of often open shirts and tennis shorts wanders around a barge, looks pensive on an aircraft carrier, hangs around with a blonde woman (EDIT: Britt Ekland! Of course!) and talks to some people.

When that's done, we get to the burning issue. Stewpot declares himself "a thorn amongst six roses", the new TOTP dancers. They even get to introduce themselves, all in cut glass RP. Now, given Ruby Flipper (three of whom made the leap across, of course, not that they're treated any differently) were just introduced as if we should know them and have now been got rid of like so much Greek currency this seems effusive, but then again Pan's People did eight years' service and then as far as viewers could see were just handed their cards without warning. Someone must have got the unions involved. The competition is to give them a name, the required details of your postcard entry - Stewpot just said get some paper earlier, if we had to go to the extra expense of a postcard he should have said so - displayed on the time honoured huge replica complete with cartoon of a stamp - 'DANCERS COMP.' via BBC Television Centre W12 8QT, of course. All entries must be in by first post 1st November and "a set of judges" will make the decision, the winner somehow giving the group their name "formally". By decree? How does that work? It's something of a surprise all this made the edit, actually, with modern BBC compliance structure you wouldn't have thought a repeat could go around giving out addresses.

John Miles – Remember Yesterday
Oh blimey, another man and his piano and his earnest plaintiveness. Miles is wearing far too tight a shirt and far too shaggy a blonde haircut for a man of his balledic standing. As is his trademark it changes pace between the verses and chorus, it being unfortunate that both speeds are pedestrian.

Average White Band – Queen Of My Soul
"Some lovely girls around me" - does that count the bloke at the back? - "we've got some lovely girls for you now". It's the debut of Dance Troupe To Be Named but not that auspicious a beginning, stuck out on a tiny stage in tops that are attached to long bits of fabric they have to keep hold of throughout. All six get their turn at smiling at their own close-up twice over before some spinning and general veil waving. Still, it's something to build from.

Climax Blues Band – Couldn’t Get It Right
Or as Stewpot goes and calls it, Gonna Get It Right. No, that's the exact opposite. The Musician's Union demand to re-record everything before air really drives a coach and horses through this one that no amount of green flare solarisation or the tremendous volume of hair on show can cover for, as the groove develops leaden boots and Colin Cooper sings the whole thing as if he has other things on his mind. Perhaps it's the saxophone he holds onto like a pacifier throughout. Buy a strap, man. When he does actually play it it's both in melodic tune with and in the mix completely overshadowed by the guitar solo so ends up pointless.

Pussycat – Mississippi
"Time to introduce our number one, and who better than the number one boxer in Britain and Europe, Joe Bugner!" Well, Stewpot, there's you, given that's what you're there for. Bugner had in fact won the British and European belts off Richard Dunn nine days earlier, a year after being KO'd by Ali, which supposedly made him ideal for going "Pussycat, Mississippi" as if he wasn't expecting to be asked. And, bar a wave, some standing around looking useless and the regulation comedy sparring on the fade to the video - Crazyboat again - that's the whole of his contribution. Hope he had other things to do within TVC that day.