Baby Jane

I woke to find myself lying under my coat on a hard wooden floor. This was the accommodation provided by my friend Chris, in his Manchester flat, which I had gladly accepted the previous evening, in the knowledge that I would most likely be drunk enough not to care.

My journey across the Pennines had been primarily because of Steven, an Australia-based ex-pat who I had not seen for several years. I had initially planned to take a train to Manchester in the afternoon in time to do some record shopping, but this idea had fallen victim to disorganisation and the offer of a door-to-door taxi service courtesy of yet another old friend, Craig, so instead I had arrived in the evening and indulged in a good number of drinks while chatting to Steven about his life overseas and ignoring a series of bands, none of which are ever likely to have a Number One single.

As I lay on the floor considering the extent of my hangover, Craig appeared and suggested that I might like to consider leaving my makeshift bed, as he had to get home for a Sunday morning meeting with his architect. I was too tired to argue with such a ludicrous request, so I located my shoes and bade farewell to those not lucky enough to still be sleeping.

We demonstrated our ignorance of the local road network by taking a circuitous route out of the city, but eventually stumbled onto the M62. On the way home our conversation turned to Number One singles, and it emerged that Craig knew nothing of my quest. I explained, not for the first time, and got the usual response (comments in these situations typically include words such as ‘crazy’, ‘stupid’ and ‘cool’, which I think is a fair balance).

Some hours later I answered the telephone to an excited Craig. At first I assumed that his animated state was the result of an especially heated architectural discussion, but it emerged that I was personally responsible. He had relayed the details of my mission to his wife Jane*, and together they had explored her vinyl collection in search of Number One singles, ensuring accuracy by cross-referencing with Everyhit.com. They were calling to offer me the fruits of their search as a contribution to my collection.

Jane reeled off a list of their discoveries, and although I turned down a number of chart-toppers which I already owned, there were 13 records which I gladly agreed to take. We arranged to meet to perform the handover, and so it was that I joined them a few days later in the Fenton for a hearty meal and a couple of drinks. Craig handed me a carrier bag containing the records, and while I waited for my lasagne I looked through them.

The 60s were well represented, particularly by the Beatles, who had made five of the records in the bag. Two of these were She Loves You, and these were joined by the 200th Number One, Help!, and both of their chart-topping double A-sides, Day Tripper/We Can Work It Out’ and Eleanor Rigby/Yellow Submarine.

Help! was succeeded by Sonny & Cher’s I Got You Babe, also present. The oldest hit here was the 128th Number One, Walkin’ Back To Happiness by Helen Shapiro, which sat alongside the record which knocked it off the top spot, Elvis Presley’s Little Sister/(Marie’s The Name) His Latest Flame**.

The other end of the decade provided the brilliant Bad Moon Rising by the Creedence Clearwater Revival, but the 1970s didn’t get much of a look in. There was only Abba’s Dancing Queen, and this turned out to be the 1992 re-release, given away by the inclusion of ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ as the B-side.

The music of the 1980s was seemingly of more interest to Jane, as the bag included a damaged but playable copy of Every Breath You Take by the Police and a trio of electro-pop gems. Falco’s Rock Me Amadeus and A-Ha’s The Sun Always Shines On TV represented Austria and Norway respectively, while Tainted Love by Soft Cell provided the local interest, being a product of Leeds by a pair who had probably visited the very pub we were in.

I rewarded the generosity of my friends by allowing Craig to buy me a pint, and spent a pleasant hour in their company.

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* Fawlty Towers fans will be interested to note that Craig and Jane are two doctors.
** Just one of a dozen Number Ones with a family member in the title.