Out of the 40 best-selling singles in the UK in 1996, you might not be surprised to learn that 25 were by mostly male acts, either solo artists or men in bands and boy-bands.
Baddiel, Skinner, and Broudie are in there; as are Take That and Boyzone. There’s Babybird and Babylon Zoo; and oh look, Underworld made it in there too.
To be fair, there are a couple of repeat offenders in that list: The Prodigy puts in two of the top sellers, as does Peter “fackin’” (copyright Danny Dyer in Human Traffic) Andre.
But on the women’s side, the repeats are even more repeatable; you’ve got three from the Spice Girls, two from the female-fronted Fugees (and I know I’m really stretching it there) and a couple from Celine Dion. Gabrielle makes it up there twice, but one of those is billed as a duet with London’s best, East 17. For a total of just twelve entries.
I don’t really know what point I’m trying to prove here, other than being glad that despite the direction pop music was trying to take me in, I still managed to go a bit deeper (but not Deep Deep Down, if it’s all the same with you East 17) and find a couple more gems from 1996 to tip the scales thanks to the power of local radio.
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Ridings FM launched in the late Nineties, and immediately began piping three-year-old songs into Wakefield and the Five Towns. I don’t know which half of their slogan of ‘Hits and Memories’ these songs qualified for, but the station’s peculiar tastes followed me through school and college, and into pre-uni workplaces too. One particularly repetitive playlist of theirs containing Anastasia’s ‘Left Outside Alone’ and The Rasmus’ ‘In The Shadows’ – neither of which were bothering the charts at the time, I’m almost certain of it – formed the backbone of the bane of my gap year existence at an electronics factory. But listening to that radio station did also give me some good memories.
Like the late-night drive with my dad when I first heard the proper version of Depeche Mode’s ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ which I’d recently heard off the Gap commercial.
Or Donna Lewis with her lovely lilting whispers of reassurance for a loved one.
The gentle thrum of the intro, like the first flutters of nervous anticipation when you’re waiting for them to call. The full bloom of happiness as she describes the warmth and excitement of being there with her beloved, asking for the same hopeful promises she’s making as the song rises into powerful piano stabs before settling back again into its blissful reverie.
My question is, how did 34 songs sell more copies than this in the UK in 1996? It’s pop perfection. It’s an incredibly vulnerable piece of music from an artist laying bare their soul’s desire. Oh but never mind that, here’s some lions on a shirt. Here’s Mark Morrison doubting someone’s version of events. Here’s not one, but two bloody Bee Gees covers released in the same 12-month period. Stunning vocals aside, the way the song rises and falls with heady passion and quieter tender moments is an example of songwriting that takes you on a full-bodied journey. It’s amazing.
Anyway. Ridings FM in its infinite wisdom not only hammered that song throughout its initial period on the air, but also kept it on the periphery of regular airplay in the years and even decades that followed. I have fond memories of hearing my favourite songs played on that station, as if someone out there shared my appreciation for the 35th biggest-selling song of the year.
There’s another memory of local radio which I find harder to describe: it’s me in the nurse’s office at school, waiting for a lift home on account of my “nausea” and listening to Ridings FM in the background. Listening to ads with catchy jingles for local businesses and wondering what life was like beyond the school gates, in the shops on the high street. Wondering which rooms in those older buildings were being used to store stock. If people who worked in the offices in town really liked their jobs. If I would end up liking my job...whatever it turned out to be.
But as I imagined all this I visualised myself floating out of school, over the main road and towards all these mysterious workplaces. It wasn’t just idle speculation, it felt like I was really spacing out on my imagined way into town. A strong feeling of being pulled away, like an out-of-body experience except I was acutely aware of how much my tummy (didn’t) hurt. Must’ve forgotten to bring (do) my homework that day.
The power of local radio, eh? It can get your business noticed by people closest to you. It can also aid your astral projection, apparently.
I feel I’ve somewhat strayed from the point. Donna Lewis’ ‘I Love You Always Forever’ is a banger. Go give it repeated listens.