How Many Of These '70s One-Hit Wonders Do You Remember?
Every
band dreams of a lifelong career filled with hit songs, but the reality
is that most artists who are lucky enough to snag a record deal—and it's
harder now than ever—will never be known to the general public. Which
means that if you do somehow score even one hit single, well, that's one
more than most artists ever achieve.
"One-hit wonders" aren't the
exclusive domain of the '70s (here today-gone tomorrow artists have
been around since the advent of radio), but it does seem as if that
decade—particularly the first half, when listeners were changing their
dials from AM to FM—gave us more than its fair share.
Here's a
dozen artists from the golden age of the '70s who rocked the
charts—once. Chances are, you probably hear their songs today, in
supermarkets and dentist's offices, but can you actually name who
actually performed them? Now you can.
Vanity Fare sure get points for trying. Formed in 1966, the quintet
from Kent, England, played for a couple of years as the Avengers before
changing their name to Vanity Fare (a slight change in spelling of
William Makepeace Thackeray's novel, Vanity Fair). Their
marshmallow-light pop sound was a stark contrast to the heavy
psychedelic rock that was taking Britain by storm in the late '60s, and
while they "faired" respectively with a handful of singles in their
native country, full-blown chart success in American remained elusive
until they issued "Hitchin' a Ride," in late 1969. A zippy piece of
pop-rock that features a two-recorder intro and a catchy, electric
piano-driven instrumental mid section, it hit number five on Billboard's
Hot 100 in the spring of 1970 and went on to sell over one million
copies. In following years, Vanity Fare lodged a few more singles in the
Euro charts, but nothing matched the high-water mark set by "Hitchin' a
Ride."
In 1970, it helped to have Tommy James as both your producer and
friend. The Brooklyn-based sextet Alive and Kicking, signed to Morris
Levy's Roulette Records, were set to record James'
Crystal Blue Persuasion,
but after he decided to keep the song for himself (resulting in a
number two smash), he penned another track for the band as a goodwill
gesture. "Tighter, Tighter," a dreamy bit of soulful summertime pop
featuring staccato horns and a surging organ bed, sounded every inch
like a Tommy James classic—the only difference was the dual lead vocals
of Pepe Cardona and Sandy Toder. The song hit number seven on Billboard
and stayed on the chart for an impressive 16 weeks. All looked good for
Alive N Kickin', but two follow-up more singles (
Just Let It Come and "London Bridge"), stalled, and by the fall of 1971 they were kicking no more.
Formed in Scotland in 1961, the Gaylords issued a number of singles
that went nowhere, and after a move to London, they changed their name
to the Marmalade. Specializing in lush harmonies and psychedelic pop,
they released more singles and came this-close to hitting it big (a 1967
cut,
I See the Rain,
topped the charts in the Netherlands and was praised by Jimi Hendrix).
But it wasn't till the end of the decade that the band scored a
transatlantic hit with the plaintive rock ballad "Reflections of My
Life." Poignantly sung by Dean Ford, the woeful tale of regret swells
with stirring strings and brass, but it's Junior Campbell's arresting
"reverse" guitar solo that delivers the biggest emotional wallop. After
hitting the Top 10 in America and number three in the UK with
"Reflections of My Life," The Marmalade soldiered on in various forms,
at point naming itself "Vintage Marmalade." Over the years, they a
handful of well-received singles, but they were never able to re-create
the across-the-board magic of their signature song.
From 1966 to '68, the hard-driving Blues Image were a fixture in
the South Florida clubs. A move to Los Angeles in '69 resulted in a deal
with Atco Records and a self-titled debut album that didn't make much
of a dent. But their second record, 'Open,' contained the sweeping
blues-rocker "Ride Captain Ride" ("73 men sailed up, from the San
Francisco Bay") that clicked with listeners who liked blazing guitar
solos (performed by band members Kent Henry and Mike Pinera)
accompanying their nautical tales. "Ride Captain Ride" hit number four
in both the US and Canada in 1970, and after that Blues Image's moment
in the sun came to and end. After a third album, 'Red, White & Blues
Image,' produced no hit singles, the group's members started to
scatter, joining or touring with bands such as Iron Butterfly, Three Dog
Night and Steppenwolf.
The Ides of March – Vehicle
Horns were big business at the start of the '70s, with Blood, Sweat
& Tears and Chicago racking up major sales with loud, brassy
rockers. The Illinois-based Ides of March managed to sound just enough
like both bands to power their 1970 single "Vehicle" to number two on
the Billboard Hot 100 (it was Warner Brothers' fast-selling single at
the time). Full-throated lead singer Jim Peterik was a dead ringer for
David Clayton-Thomas, and his knockout axe solos could have easily come
from Chicago's Terry Kath. The future looked bright for the seven-piece
band, but after "Vehicle" their subsequent albums idled. The Ides of
March called it a day in 1973, but that wasn't the last we would hear of
Peterik: In the late 1970s, he formed the band Survivor, co-writing a
number of their hits including the 1982 chart-topper,
Eye of the Tiger.
At first, listeners called radio stations to request that great new
Stevie Wonder song—"Oh, and what's it called… 'Na Na Na Na' or
something?"—before they figured out it wasn't Stevie Wonder at all; it
was a fresh act on the scene called Steam. In truth, Steam weren't a
band at all—they were a fictitious outfit put together by studio players
Gary DeCarlo and Dale Frashuer, along with writer-producer Paul Leka.
The trio recorded a number of tracks, including one with an elongated
drum solo culled from existing songs that also featured repetitious
guide vocals ("Na, na, na, na") sung as a crowd chant. The song hit
number one at the tail end of 1969, and that represented the be-all and
end-all for Steam. "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye," of course, lives
on. It's been a hit for groups such as Bananarama and has long been a
popular chant at sporting events.
The mix of religion and rock rang cash registers at the start of the '70s—George Harrison topped the charts with
My Sweet Lord, and
Jesus Christ Superstar
revolutionized theater. And then there was Norman Greenbaum, whose
fuzzed-out, psychedelic rock-gospel ode to Jesus and the afterlife
reached number three on Billboard and went all the way to number one in a
slew of countries. For believers and non-believers alike, the song had a
lot going for it, especially Greenbaum and guitarist Russell DaShiell's
overdriven axe sounds on the spacey main riff and in the scorching solo
(Greenbaum had a fuzz unit built into the body of his Telecaster, and
DaShiell ran his Les Paul into a home-made stompbox). Greenbaum would
issue a few more albums after "Spirit in the Sky" had its run, but
nothing would match the heavenly heights of his spiritual smash.
Scottish musicians David Paton and Billy Lyall were both early
members of the Bay City Rollers, but they left that group before its
brief moment as mid-'70s teen sensations to form the Edinburgh-based
outfit Pilot. The group would hit the top of the charts in the UK at the
start of 1975 with the song
January,
but it's their overly effervescent summertime follow-up, "Magic," for
which they're best remembered. Produced by Alan Parsons, the track
features one of those blow-out choruses ("oh, oh, oh, it's magic, you
know… ") you either find irresistible or annoying (or both), but it was
enough to lodge the song in the US top five—it ultimately sold over one
million copies. With no more hits to be had, Pilot landed for good in
1978, and Paton, along with band members Stuart Tosh and Ian Bairnson,
joined Parsons in the Alan Parson Project.
Record buyers were understandably confused into thinking they were
purchasing a song by James Taylor's early band, the American-based the
Flying Machine, but the group that cracked the top five in 1969 with
"Smile a Little Smile for Me" were, in fact, a British outfit. Driven by
a mournful keyboard riff, the gently loping rock ballad implored its
heroine, Rosemarie, to be brave in the face of heartbreak. Sounding like
a more easygoing cross between the Hollies and Badfinger, the Flying
Machine tried to follow their hit with
The Devil Has Possession of Your Mind and a cover of the Marmalade's
Baby Make it Soon, but "Smile a Little Smile for Me," proved to be their one and only chart winner, and the group ceased flying in 1970.
Long before MCs introduced "rapping" to the mainstream, and even
before Blue Oyster Cult had a fever for cowbell, there was "The Rapper."
Recorded by a Pittsburgh-based group called the Jaggerz (originally
named "The Jaggers," they had to change their name when they discovered
another band with the same moniker), the stone-cold party anthem
combined a wicked rock groove with smart-alecky lyrics about a
smooth-talking ladies' man ("The rapper—you know what he's after") that
built to a knockout chorus punctuated with handclaps and, oh yes, that
awesome cowbell. After hitting number two with "The Rapper," the Jaggerz
continued on until 1977. Lead singer Donnie Iris would become a member
of Wild Cherry for a number of years before going solo in 1980. In the
early '80s he scored a couple of top 40 hits (
Ah! Leah! and
Love is Like a Rock).
Shocking Blue – Venus
The Dutch outfit Shocking Blue scored a minor hit in the Netherlands with 1969's
Lucy Brown is Back in Town,
but things really got moving when they replaced original lead singer
Fred de Wilde with the smoky-voiced Mariska Veres. Drawing inspiration
from "The Banjo Song," guitarist Robbie van Leeuwen penned a folk-tinged
psychedelic rock paean to the Goddess of Love that featured his nimble
picking with Veres' sultry vocals. If that wasn't enough to draw
listeners in, "Venus" packed a drop-dead chorus "(Wow! She's got it/
Yeah, baby, she's got it") that really did the trick. The song hit
number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in early 1970, and worldwide it sold
over seven million copies. Shocking Blue called it quits in 1974, but
"Venus" lived on—
Bananarama had a smash with it in 1986, and
a remix of the track by the BHF landed in the UK charts in 1990.
Five Man Electrical Band – Signs
For years the Staccatos struggled to find success outside of their native Canada, where their biggest hit,
Half Past Midnight,
only made it to number eight in 1967. A string of misses dogged the
group, which renamed themselves Five Man Electrical Band, until in 1971,
when their label, MGM, switched the order of their single
Hello Melinda Goodbye/"Signs,"
making the B-side the A-side. A post-hippie anthem to personal freedom
and independence ("And the sign said long-haired freaky people need not
apply"), "Signs" was a sing-along rock jam that reached number three on
the Top 100, selling over one million copies. A string of minor hits
followed before the Five Man Electrical Band finally cut the cord in
1975. Nineteen years after its first chart appearance, "Signs" became a
hit for the heavy metal band Tesla,
who covered the track, unplugged fashion, on their 1990 album,
Five Man Acoustical Jam.
