The best of the 60s

[Dr Marco]

 

[Crinklyfox]

On 19/01/2026 at 12:11, davieG said:

Mike's Musical Memories ·

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The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band (also known as the Bonzo Dog Band or the Bonzo Dog Dada Band or the Bonzos) was created by a group of British art-school students in the 1960s. Combining elements of music hall, trad jazz and psychedelia with surreal humour and avant-garde art, the Bonzos came to public attention through appearances in the Beatles' 1967 film Magical Mystery Tour and the 1968 ITV comedy show Do Not Adjust Your Set.

Vivian StanshallVocals, trumpet

Neil InnesVocals, piano, guitar

Rodney Desborough SlaterSaxophone

Roger Ruskin SpearMulti-instruments

Larry "Legs" SmithDrums

The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band was named after a cartoon character named Bonzo the Dog. Bonzo was created in the 1920s by George Studdy and became very popular in Britain over the years.

After gaining popularity in England in the '60s, the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band was asked personally by Paul McCartney to be The Beatles' 1967 Magical Mystery Tour film. The Bonzos appear at the end of the movie to play their song "Death Cab for Cutie."

In 1968, the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band became the resident house band on the sketch comedy show Do Not Adjust Your Set. The show featured Eric Idle, Terry Jones, and Michael Palin, all of whom went on to form the comedy troupe Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Due to record label budget constraints, the band was only given two hours to record each song for their 1967 debut album Gorilla. As a result, the record famously boasts that it contains "some of the most deliberately inept jazz playing ever recorded."

In 1995, Vivian Stanshall, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist for Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, died in a tragic house fire. Stanshall's body was found after the fire in his North London flat was extinguished. Friends and family said that Stanshall regularly smoked and drank in bed and even occasionally lit his long red beard on fire.

In the '60s, they became notorious for combining comedic onstage antics with music in their live shows. Vocalist Vivian Stanshall used to perform stripteases, drummer Larry Smith would tap-dance, and multi-instrumentalist Roger Ruskin Spear would do a gag where his head eventually exploded.

 

 

I remember Do Not Adjust Your Set.  It introduced me to the Bonzos.  Many of the younger FT membership may never have heard of the programme, but it featured Michael Palin, Terry Jones and Eric Idle along with a young David Jason and Denise Coffey.  I think that anyone who likes Monty Pythons Flying Circus would appreciate some of the comedy so I'm including a link.  The Bonzos perform Jollity Farm in the Boxing Day Pilot.  Enjoy.

 

 

[woollett the bullet]

On 15/01/2026 at 08:14, Free Falling Foxes said:

Good call.

Have you ever seen this?

 

 

Brilliant mate  , enjoyed that

[woollett the bullet]

60's soul at its best

[davieG]

Back in the day  · 

Ian Mckenzie 

A classic Instrumental form 1962 wich reached number 1 in the UK pop charts it was also number in the USA and on the B side is JUNGLE FEVER.

 

Even though my hearing shite I still find myself humming this. Joe Meek was a great innovator shame he died so young.

[davieG]

History of Leicestershire in Images
Mervin Wallace
  ·
ON THE 3rd FEBRUARY 1967
Robert George "Joe" Meek died. He was born on the 5th April 1929, an English record producer and songwriter considered one of the most influential sound engineers of all time. Credited as being one of the first to develop ideas such as using the recording studio as an instrument, and becoming one of the first producers to be recognised for his individual identity as an artist.
Meek pioneered space age and experimental pop music, and assisted in the development of recording practices like overdubbing, sampling and reverberation.
In 1966 Hinckley group at that time known as ‘The Four Matadors’ got the chance to record a single with the legendary Joe Meek, thanks to their manager Mick Tiernan. Two of the Joe Meek recordings were eventually released by Columbia Records who put out the single in January 1966 ‘A Man’s Gotta Stand Tall/Fast Cars and Money’. The credit Meeksville shown on the A Side. My copy unfortunately with a malformed label.🛡️

 

 

 

 

 

[davieG]

 

[davieG]

Steve Winwood  ·

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“When I was 13, I'd get the bus to music college in Birmingham, but within a year I was kicked out. The head called me in and asked what kind of music I liked. I said, ‘Paul Hindemith and Igor Stravinsky, Fats Domino and Ray Charles.’ He said, ‘you've either got to forget about the last two or leave this establishment.’ So I left. The world was just a different place back then, as anyone who grew up in the 50s will remember.”

“I told myself at age 14, 'In the next year I want to be able to sing like Ray Charles, play harmonica like Little Walter, play guitar like BB King and play keyboards like Oscar Peterson.’ Needless to say, I didn't really achieve any of those things. But that's what drove me: self-improvement. There was no other way to do it. You couldn't go to a man to teach you how to sing like Ray Charles.” - SW

 

[davieG]

Mike's Musical Memories ·

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David and Jonathan were a British pop duo from Bristol, England, featuring Roger Greenaway and Roger Cook. They had two top 20 hits in 1966.

Greenaway and Cook began working together in 1965 in Bristol, England and wrote the hit songs "This Golden Ring" and "You've Got Your Troubles" for the British group the Fortunes. They teamed with George Martin to record a cover of the Beatles' "Michelle", which was a hit single in 1966 in both the UK (No. 11 UK Singles Chart) and the US (Billboard Hot 100 No. 18, US Adult Contemporary chart No. 3). They had a top 10 in the UK, also in 1966, with "Lovers of the World Unite", which reached No. 7.

The stage names "David and Jonathan" were suggested by Judy Lockhart Smith (who married George Martin in June 1966) and allude to the ancient Hebrew king David and prince Jonathan, whose close personal friendship was documented in the First Book of Samuel.

The duo sang the main title theme (composed by John Dankworth), for the eponymously titled 1966 spy-spoof film, Modesty Blaise. They also recorded a version of the Beatles' "She's Leaving Home", produced by George Martin, in 1967.

After David and Jonathan had run its course, the duo formed The Congregation and also continued to write successful hit singles, both individually and together, for such artists as Blue Mink, the Hollies, Engelbert Humperdinck, Whistling Jack Smith, Bobby Goldsboro and others.

[davieG]

Rock Guitar Legacy ·

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Del Shannon died by suicide on this day in 1990, at the age of 55.

Best known for “Runaway”, Del Shannon was one of the most distinctive and emotional voices of early rock. Behind the success, he struggled for years with depression, at a time when mental health was rarely understood or openly discussed.

His death was tragic — but his music remains timeless.

Remembering Del Shannon today.

 

 

Runaway one of my first ever single buys.

[davieG]

[davieG]

Reggie Acoustic ·

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UK Singles Chart, Top 40 1967

[Crinklyfox]

Before heavy metal was a genre

 

 

[Free Falling Foxes]

 

[davieG]

Music and memories of the 1960's and 70's. ·

 

12th of February 1969,Amen Corner were at no.1 on the UK singles chart with "If Paradise is Half as Nice".

[davieG]

On 10/02/2026 at 16:05, Free Falling Foxes said:

 

The first time I heard that was in the Kenco Coffee Bar on Granby Steet just down from the corner on the right as you look towards the Clock tower.

 

As far as I can recall it was the only 'coffee' bar in Leicester and use to fill up after the pubs shut. It didn't seem to last long and I don't recall any other coffee bars for a few years now there's too many of them.

[davieG]

 

60s/70s +

 

 

Professor Calcue ·

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He went from No. 1 to invisible in a single year. A decade later, Elton John walked into his life and said five words that changed everything.

By 1964, Neil Sedaka should have been untouchable. He'd been a hitmaker since his teens — "Calendar Girl," "Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen," "Oh! Carol," and a No. 1 smash with "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" in 1962. He'd sold 25 million records before his 25th birthday. The kid from Brooklyn was one of the biggest names in American pop.

Then the Beatles landed.

The British Invasion swept through American radio like a tidal wave, and solo pop acts like Sedaka were suddenly yesterday's news. By 1964, his chart run was over. Not just slowed — stopped. For the rest of the decade, Neil Sedaka couldn't buy a hit in America. The same radio stations that had played his songs on rotation now passed him over completely.

But Sedaka didn't quit. He moved his family to England in the early 1970s, where his name still carried weight. He recorded three well-received albums for UK labels — Emergence, Solitaire, and The Tra-La Days Are Over — and by 1973, he was back on the British charts. He was working, writing, and performing. But in America? Silence. A decade of it.

That's when Elton John stepped in.

Sedaka had first met Elton in 1972, and the two had become friends. Elton was at the peak of his superstardom, and he was also starting his own record label, Rocket Records. He asked to hear Sedaka's new material. He listened to the songs from those three UK albums — including a gentle, rain-soaked ballad co-written with lyricist Phil Cody called "Laughter in the Rain" — and said something Sedaka never forgot.

"You know I could make you a star again in America."

Elton didn't just offer a deal. He offered a plan. The two went through Sedaka's UK catalog and assembled the best tracks into a compilation marketed as a new album for American audiences. Elton personally wrote the liner notes and put his name behind the release. He called the album Sedaka's Back.

And it worked.

"Laughter in the Rain" was released on Rocket Records in the United States in late 1974, and by February 1975, it was No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 — Sedaka's first chart-topper in thirteen years. It was his second million-selling single, more than a decade after his first.

Then the floodgates opened. Elton John sang backup on Sedaka's "Bad Blood," which also hit No. 1. The Captain & Tennille took Sedaka's "Love Will Keep Us Together" to the top of the charts, and it became the biggest-selling single of 1975 — earning Sedaka a Grammy. His song "Solitaire" became a hit for The Carpenters. Suddenly, Neil Sedaka wasn't just back. He was everywhere.

And then came the masterstroke.

In 1975, Sedaka re-recorded his own signature song, "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" — but this time, he stripped away the bouncy doo-wop arrangement and reimagined it as a slow, aching ballad. The idea had first been proven by singer Lenny Welch, who'd recorded a torch-song version in 1970. But when Sedaka himself sang it — the same words, the same melody, but now delivered by a man who'd lived through a decade of being written off — it hit differently. The ballad version charted all over again, reaching the Top 10.

It was poetic in the truest sense: a teenage hit about heartbreak, sung again by the same man, now older, now wiser, now carrying the weight of actually knowing what loss felt like.

Neil Sedaka's comeback remains one of the most remarkable in pop music history. He didn't ride a trend. He didn't reinvent himself as something he wasn't. He simply kept writing, kept playing, and waited for the world to catch up. And when it did, he had a friend in Elton John who believed in him enough to open the door.

Sedaka is still performing today, in his mid-80s. He hosts a monthly show on SiriusXM satellite radio. He once said that the important thing was to keep learning your craft, and that out of your failures, you become better.

He didn't survive rock's revolution. He outlasted it.

#NeilSedaka #LaughterInTheRain

~Professor Calcue

[Foxdiamond]

3 hours ago, davieG said:

 

60s/70s +

 

 

Professor Calcue ·

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He went from No. 1 to invisible in a single year. A decade later, Elton John walked into his life and said five words that changed everything.

By 1964, Neil Sedaka should have been untouchable. He'd been a hitmaker since his teens — "Calendar Girl," "Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen," "Oh! Carol," and a No. 1 smash with "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" in 1962. He'd sold 25 million records before his 25th birthday. The kid from Brooklyn was one of the biggest names in American pop.

Then the Beatles landed.

The British Invasion swept through American radio like a tidal wave, and solo pop acts like Sedaka were suddenly yesterday's news. By 1964, his chart run was over. Not just slowed — stopped. For the rest of the decade, Neil Sedaka couldn't buy a hit in America. The same radio stations that had played his songs on rotation now passed him over completely.

But Sedaka didn't quit. He moved his family to England in the early 1970s, where his name still carried weight. He recorded three well-received albums for UK labels — Emergence, Solitaire, and The Tra-La Days Are Over — and by 1973, he was back on the British charts. He was working, writing, and performing. But in America? Silence. A decade of it.

That's when Elton John stepped in.

Sedaka had first met Elton in 1972, and the two had become friends. Elton was at the peak of his superstardom, and he was also starting his own record label, Rocket Records. He asked to hear Sedaka's new material. He listened to the songs from those three UK albums — including a gentle, rain-soaked ballad co-written with lyricist Phil Cody called "Laughter in the Rain" — and said something Sedaka never forgot.

"You know I could make you a star again in America."

Elton didn't just offer a deal. He offered a plan. The two went through Sedaka's UK catalog and assembled the best tracks into a compilation marketed as a new album for American audiences. Elton personally wrote the liner notes and put his name behind the release. He called the album Sedaka's Back.

And it worked.

"Laughter in the Rain" was released on Rocket Records in the United States in late 1974, and by February 1975, it was No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 — Sedaka's first chart-topper in thirteen years. It was his second million-selling single, more than a decade after his first.

Then the floodgates opened. Elton John sang backup on Sedaka's "Bad Blood," which also hit No. 1. The Captain & Tennille took Sedaka's "Love Will Keep Us Together" to the top of the charts, and it became the biggest-selling single of 1975 — earning Sedaka a Grammy. His song "Solitaire" became a hit for The Carpenters. Suddenly, Neil Sedaka wasn't just back. He was everywhere.

And then came the masterstroke.

In 1975, Sedaka re-recorded his own signature song, "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" — but this time, he stripped away the bouncy doo-wop arrangement and reimagined it as a slow, aching ballad. The idea had first been proven by singer Lenny Welch, who'd recorded a torch-song version in 1970. But when Sedaka himself sang it — the same words, the same melody, but now delivered by a man who'd lived through a decade of being written off — it hit differently. The ballad version charted all over again, reaching the Top 10.

It was poetic in the truest sense: a teenage hit about heartbreak, sung again by the same man, now older, now wiser, now carrying the weight of actually knowing what loss felt like.

Neil Sedaka's comeback remains one of the most remarkable in pop music history. He didn't ride a trend. He didn't reinvent himself as something he wasn't. He simply kept writing, kept playing, and waited for the world to catch up. And when it did, he had a friend in Elton John who believed in him enough to open the door.

Sedaka is still performing today, in his mid-80s. He hosts a monthly show on SiriusXM satellite radio. He once said that the important thing was to keep learning your craft, and that out of your failures, you become better.

He didn't survive rock's revolution. He outlasted it.

#NeilSedaka #LaughterInTheRain

~Professor Calcue

Brooklyn at that time. Neil Sedaka and Neil Diamond both attended Abraham Lincoln School and Diamond later followed  Sedaka into writing at The Brill Building. Diamond was also at Erasmus School and in the same choir as a young B Streisand. Elton John has gone on record as thanking Neil Diamond for introducing him before his famous set at Doug Weston's Troubadour which ignited his US career. Of course one of Diamond's early compositions that helped his career was I'm a believer for The Monkees.

[davieG]

Not many people know this

Unusual Tales ·

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He bought a forgotten French song for one dollar, stayed up until 5 AM rewriting it, and gave Frank Sinatra the most famous farewell in music history.

In 1968, Paul Anka was 26 years old — but already a veteran of the music industry. He'd written "Diana" as a teenager, toured the world, watched the first wave of rock and roll rise and fall, and earned an Academy Award nomination before most people finished college. He'd also become a regular in Frank Sinatra's orbit — a young headliner in Las Vegas who ran in the same circles as the Rat Pack.

One night over dinner in Florida, Sinatra told Anka something that shook him. Frank said he was done. He'd had enough. He was quitting the business. But he was going to make one more album — and he looked at Anka and said something he'd been teasing him with for years: "You never wrote me that song."

Anka had always been too intimidated to try. He was writing teen pop. Sinatra was Sinatra. But now, with the end staring him in the face, Anka felt the weight of the moment.

He'd heard a French song while vacationing in the south of France — a melancholy ballad called "Comme d'habitude," recorded by Claude François in 1967. It was about the slow death of a marriage. It was not a huge hit. But something in the melody stayed with Anka. He flew to Paris, negotiated the adaptation rights for one dollar, and kept the song tucked away, playing it on his piano from time to time, waiting for the right moment.

The dinner with Sinatra was that moment.

Back in his New York apartment, Anka sat down at one o'clock in the morning at an old IBM electric typewriter with his piano beside him. He asked himself one question: if Frank Sinatra were a songwriter, what would he say about his life?

The words came fast. He used Sinatra's language — tough, proud, unapologetic. Phrases like "I ate it up and spit it out" came from the way the Rat Pack guys actually talked. As Anka later explained, he'd spent enough time around those steam rooms and Vegas suites to know the voice. He wasn't writing about himself. He was channeling the man.

By 5 AM, it was done. The opening line was already immortal: "And now, the end is near..."

He called Sinatra in Nevada — Frank was at Caesars Palace — and told him he had something special. He then recorded a demo and flew to Las Vegas to play it in person. Sinatra listened and said simply, "I'm doing it."

Weeks of silence followed. Anka heard nothing. Then one day, the phone rang. It was Sinatra, calling from inside the recording studio. He said, "Paulie? You did it. This is the one" — and held the phone up to the speaker so Anka could hear the finished recording for the first time. Anka started crying.

Sinatra had recorded "My Way" on December 30, 1968 — in a single take. Forty musicians. One performance. One of the most iconic recordings in popular music history.

Anka's record label was furious that he'd given the song away. His answer was simple: "I'm young enough to write it, but I'm not old enough to sing it. It belongs to Sinatra."

The song reached number 27 on the Billboard Hot 100 — a modest chart position that completely understates its impact. In the UK, it spent 75 weeks in the top 40, a record that still stands. It became the most requested song at British funerals. Elvis Presley performed it to over a billion viewers via satellite. Sid Vicious turned it into a punk anthem. It has been covered in every language, in every genre, by voices ranging from Luciano Pavarotti to karaoke singers on every continent.

And here's the twist no one tells: Sinatra himself came to hate it. His daughter Tina later revealed that he thought the song was self-indulgent. He couldn't escape it. It stuck, and he couldn't shake it loose. But the audiences never agreed — they heard their own lives in those words, their own defiance, their own reckoning with mortality.

That's the paradox of "My Way." The singer couldn't stand it. The songwriter wrote it for someone else. And the world claimed it as its own.

Paul Anka didn't write an anthem. He wrote a goodbye letter for a friend. And sixty years later, people are still reading it at the end of their own lives, believing every word was meant for them.

That might be the greatest compliment a songwriter could ever receive.

#MyWay #PaulAnka

~Unusual Tales

 

[davieG]

Dusty Springfield  ·

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On the 18th April 1963 The Springfields took part in a concert presented by the BBC called 'Swinging Sounds 63' at the Royal Albert Hall which featured many of the big acts of that time, including The Beatles, who were still fairly new and not top of the bill, that was Del Shannon. The Springfields were still Britain's top group but maybe this was the point at which they "saw the Beatles coming" and thoughts of splitting up entered their heads. The photo is a little fuzzy but still easy to spot both the Beatles and The Springfields in the finale photo.

 

[Foxdiamond]

13 minutes ago, davieG said:

Dusty Springfield  ·

Follow

 

On the 18th April 1963 The Springfields took part in a concert presented by the BBC called 'Swinging Sounds 63' at the Royal Albert Hall which featured many of the big acts of that time, including The Beatles, who were still fairly new and not top of the bill, that was Del Shannon. The Springfields were still Britain's top group but maybe this was the point at which they "saw the Beatles coming" and thoughts of splitting up entered their heads. The photo is a little fuzzy but still easy to spot both the Beatles and The Springfields in the finale photo.

 

I wonder if that is a Tom Eckersley illustration 

[Foxdiamond]

20 minutes ago, davieG said:

Not many people know this

Unusual Tales ·

Follow

 

He bought a forgotten French song for one dollar, stayed up until 5 AM rewriting it, and gave Frank Sinatra the most famous farewell in music history.

In 1968, Paul Anka was 26 years old — but already a veteran of the music industry. He'd written "Diana" as a teenager, toured the world, watched the first wave of rock and roll rise and fall, and earned an Academy Award nomination before most people finished college. He'd also become a regular in Frank Sinatra's orbit — a young headliner in Las Vegas who ran in the same circles as the Rat Pack.

One night over dinner in Florida, Sinatra told Anka something that shook him. Frank said he was done. He'd had enough. He was quitting the business. But he was going to make one more album — and he looked at Anka and said something he'd been teasing him with for years: "You never wrote me that song."

Anka had always been too intimidated to try. He was writing teen pop. Sinatra was Sinatra. But now, with the end staring him in the face, Anka felt the weight of the moment.

He'd heard a French song while vacationing in the south of France — a melancholy ballad called "Comme d'habitude," recorded by Claude François in 1967. It was about the slow death of a marriage. It was not a huge hit. But something in the melody stayed with Anka. He flew to Paris, negotiated the adaptation rights for one dollar, and kept the song tucked away, playing it on his piano from time to time, waiting for the right moment.

The dinner with Sinatra was that moment.

Back in his New York apartment, Anka sat down at one o'clock in the morning at an old IBM electric typewriter with his piano beside him. He asked himself one question: if Frank Sinatra were a songwriter, what would he say about his life?

The words came fast. He used Sinatra's language — tough, proud, unapologetic. Phrases like "I ate it up and spit it out" came from the way the Rat Pack guys actually talked. As Anka later explained, he'd spent enough time around those steam rooms and Vegas suites to know the voice. He wasn't writing about himself. He was channeling the man.

By 5 AM, it was done. The opening line was already immortal: "And now, the end is near..."

He called Sinatra in Nevada — Frank was at Caesars Palace — and told him he had something special. He then recorded a demo and flew to Las Vegas to play it in person. Sinatra listened and said simply, "I'm doing it."

Weeks of silence followed. Anka heard nothing. Then one day, the phone rang. It was Sinatra, calling from inside the recording studio. He said, "Paulie? You did it. This is the one" — and held the phone up to the speaker so Anka could hear the finished recording for the first time. Anka started crying.

Sinatra had recorded "My Way" on December 30, 1968 — in a single take. Forty musicians. One performance. One of the most iconic recordings in popular music history.

Anka's record label was furious that he'd given the song away. His answer was simple: "I'm young enough to write it, but I'm not old enough to sing it. It belongs to Sinatra."

The song reached number 27 on the Billboard Hot 100 — a modest chart position that completely understates its impact. In the UK, it spent 75 weeks in the top 40, a record that still stands. It became the most requested song at British funerals. Elvis Presley performed it to over a billion viewers via satellite. Sid Vicious turned it into a punk anthem. It has been covered in every language, in every genre, by voices ranging from Luciano Pavarotti to karaoke singers on every continent.

And here's the twist no one tells: Sinatra himself came to hate it. His daughter Tina later revealed that he thought the song was self-indulgent. He couldn't escape it. It stuck, and he couldn't shake it loose. But the audiences never agreed — they heard their own lives in those words, their own defiance, their own reckoning with mortality.

That's the paradox of "My Way." The singer couldn't stand it. The songwriter wrote it for someone else. And the world claimed it as its own.

Paul Anka didn't write an anthem. He wrote a goodbye letter for a friend. And sixty years later, people are still reading it at the end of their own lives, believing every word was meant for them.

That might be the greatest compliment a songwriter could ever receive.

#MyWay #PaulAnka

~Unusual Tales

 

I can understand why Sinatra got fed up with My Way when you consider all the other songs he record.

[l444ry]

 

[davieG]

[davieG]

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