One raised eyebrow, one unmistakable voice and a perfectly innocent question that somehow sounds anything but.

This time on Seven Inches of History, we reach Anthony Newley and "Do You Mind?" – a record that took one of the most distinctive voices in British entertainment all the way to number one.

By 1960, Anthony Newley had already squeezed rather a lot into his 28 years. He had been a child actor, played the Artful Dodger in Oliver Twist, worked his way through the British film industry, become a leading man and then, almost as an aside, discovered that the record-buying public rather liked hearing him sing.

And what a voice it was.

You only need a few seconds of Anthony Newley before there's really no doubt who you're listening to. Part crooner, part actor, part music-hall turn and entirely his own creation, he had a way of making even a straightforward pop song sound as though he were performing it directly to one particular person sitting somewhere in the third row.

After reaching number one earlier in 1960 with "Why", Newley returned to the top with "Do You Mind?", written by Lionel Bart, who was fast becoming one of the most successful songwriters in Britain. The record entered the charts in March 1960 and climbed to number one in April, becoming, rather neatly, the 100th number-one single in the history of the UK chart.

It's also a lovely reminder of just how gloriously odd the British charts could be in 1960. Rock 'n' roll was everywhere, American records were flooding across the Atlantic and teenagers were becoming an increasingly powerful audience. And right in the middle of it all was Anthony Newley, sounding like absolutely nobody else and still managing to walk away with a number one.

In this episode, we take another record from the pile and explore the remarkable career of Anthony Newley: child star, actor, singer, songwriter, composer, theatrical innovator and a performer whose influence would eventually stretch far beyond the British pop charts.

We'll also look at Lionel Bart, the story behind "Do You Mind?", Newley's sudden run of chart success and the extraordinary transformation that would soon take him from British film star and pop idol to the stages of the West End and Broadway.

There may also be an attempt to discover precisely how much eyebrow movement is required to sing an Anthony Newley song correctly.

Do you mind?

We rather hope not.

It can only be Seven Inches of History.

Rainbow Valley – bringing you the stories from the decade that shook the world.

All episodes of Rainbow Valley are available wherever you download your podcasts and at:

https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley

#RainbowValley #SevenInchesOfHistory #AnthonyNewley #DoYouMind #LionelBart #1960 #SixtiesMusic #BritishMusic #UKCharts #MusicHistory #1960s #Podcast

This time on Seven Inches of History, we reach one of those records that seems to have been part of British life forever — Lonnie Donegan's "My Old Man's a Dustman."

By 1960, Donegan was already the undisputed king of British skiffle. He had helped launch a musical craze with a washboard, a tea-chest bass and the encouraging suggestion that you really didn't need an expensive collection of instruments to start a band. Thousands of teenagers took him at his word — including rather a lot who would go on to change popular music themselves.

But "My Old Man's a Dustman" was something rather different.

Part novelty song, part music-hall throwback and part enormous communal singalong, it was packed with corny jokes, memorable characters and the sort of chorus that could lodge itself in your head after a single hearing. Released in 1960, it raced to number one in the UK, proving that while rock 'n' roll might have been transforming the charts, there was still plenty of room for something that sounded as though it could equally happily have been performed at the local working men's club.

In this episode, we take another record from the pile and explore the story behind the song, the remarkable career of Lonnie Donegan, the skiffle explosion he helped create, and why this apparently simple comedy record became such an enduring piece of British popular culture.

There may also be discussion of dustbins, ill-fitting hats and trousers that appear to have been acquired under circumstances best left unexplained.

It can only be Seven Inches of History.

Rainbow Valley – bringing you the stories from the decade that shook the world.

All episodes of Rainbow Valley are available wherever you download your podcasts and at:

https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley

#RainbowValley #SevenInchesOfHistory #LonnieDonegan #MyOldMansADustman #Skiffle #1960 #SixtiesMusic #BritishMusic #UKCharts #MusicHistory #1960s #Podcast

A song about doomed love, written by a man who never lived to see it top the charts.

"Running Bear" is a cheerful record about two people who drown. That tension between the bouncy production and the tragic storyline is part of what makes it so fascinating, and part of why it shot to number one in March 1960 and stayed there for two weeks.

But the real story here isn't Johnny Preston. It's the man who wrote the song. Jiles Perry Richardson Junior, better known as the Big Bopper, died on February 3rd 1959 in the same plane crash that took Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens. He was twenty-eight years old. "Running Bear" reached the top of the British chart sixteen months after he died. He never knew it existed as a single.

Preston was a young singer from Port Arthur, Texas, who gave the song exactly what it needed. Wide-eyed, slightly breathless, completely committed to the tragedy of Running Bear and Little White Dove, two young lovers from rival tribes who swim toward each other across a river and meet in the middle. Romantically. Fatally. The backing vocals, a cheerful chorus of whoops and uga-ugas courtesy of George Jones among others, somehow made the whole thing work rather than collapse under the weight of its own absurdity.

It's a brilliant piece of early 1960s pop storytelling, and it's the kind of record that Seven Inches of History was made for. These are Rainbow Valley's shorter bite-size episodes, each one picking up a single number one and telling the story behind it. Some of those stories are joyful. Some are heartbreaking. This one, somehow, manages to be both at once.

Find this episode and the full Rainbow Valley catalogue at

https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley and follow us on Twitter at @rv_podcast.

#JohnnyPreston #RunningBear #TheBigBopper #SevenInchesOfHistory #RainbowValleyPodcast #UKNumberOne #1960s #PopHistory

"Just remember this - in this country they drive on the wrong side of the road"

In 1969, British cinema delivered one of its most enduringly cheerful acts of grand larceny. The Italian Job had Michael Caine, three Mini Coopers, a coach balanced rather inconveniently above a precipice and a plan that looked perfectly sensible provided nobody examined it too closely.

In this episode of Rainbow Valley, we go behind the scenes to explore how this much-loved crime caper found its way onto the screen. Written by Troy Kennedy Martin, directed by Peter Collinson and produced by Michael Deeley, the film followed recently released criminal Charlie Croker as he assembled an unlikely team to relieve Turin of several million pounds in gold. The authorities, the Mafia and the Italian traffic system all had other ideas.

We discover how Michael Caine came to play the immaculately dressed Croker, alongside Noël Coward as the wonderfully imperious Mr Bridger and Benny Hill as Professor Simon Peach, a computer expert whose enthusiasm for large ladies required rather more explanation than most job interviews would allow. Behind the camera, meanwhile, French stunt coordinator Rémy Julienne and his team set about turning the streets, rooftops and staircases of Turin into an obstacle course for three small British cars.

There is also the film's distinctive musical world, created by Quincy Jones and crowned by "On Days Like These" and "Getta Bloomin' Move On", better known to generations of viewers as "The Self-Preservation Society". It was a soundtrack that somehow made traffic jams, bullion robbery and municipal vandalism feel positively uplifting.

The making of The Italian Job captures Britain at the end of the 1960s: confident, stylish and slightly cheeky, yet already looking back at a decade whose optimism was beginning to wobble. It is a story of inspired casting, audacious stunt work, nervous studios and a famously unresolved ending that has kept viewers arguing ever since.

So settle into the passenger seat and join us for a journey from London to Turin, accompanied by Minis, gold bars and one very precariously parked coach.

Rainbow Valley – bringing you the stories from the decade that shook the world.

This episode, along with all previous episodes of Rainbow Valley, is available wherever you get your podcasts and at:

https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley

#RainbowValleyPodcast #RainbowValley #TheSixties #1960s #HistoryPodcast #TheItalianJob #MichaelCaine #BritishCinema #ClassicFilm #MiniCooper #Turin #1969

Two number ones before breakfast. Adam Faith was just getting started.

Adam Faith was not an accident. While some artists stumble into the charts through luck or timing, Terence Nelhams-Wright from Acton arrived at number one in the spring of 1960 as the result of a series of very deliberate decisions. The name. The image. The sound. All of it carefully assembled, and all of it working perfectly.

"Poor Me" was his second consecutive number one, following "What Do You Want" which had topped the chart at the end of 1959. Back to back number ones before most people had even worked out who he was. The songwriter was Les Vandyke, pen name of Johnny Worth, who had an almost uncanny gift for matching a lyric to a performer. The narrator of "Poor Me" is convinced the universe has it in for him romantically. Faith delivered that conviction with a sincerity that made it completely believable.

The sound was John Barry's work. The pizzicato string arrangement, plucked and precise, gave the record an intimacy that set it apart from everything else on the chart. Barry would go on to write the James Bond scores and win five Academy Awards. In 1960 he was a young arranger who understood that putting Faith's voice right at the front of the mix, with minimal decoration around it, was exactly the right call.

Three weeks at number one. A career built on intelligence as much as talent. And then, just to prove he was more than a pop star, a famous television interview in which he sat opposite John Freeman and actually thought about the questions. Not many number one artists of 1960 could say the same.

Seven Inches of History is Rainbow Valley's bite-size series covering every UK number one of the 1960s. Every episode is available now at https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley.

Follow us on Twitter at @rv_podcast.

#AdamFaith #PoorMe #SevenInchesOfHistory #RainbowValleyPodcast #UKNumberOne #BritishPop #1960s #PopHistory

The accidental pop star who couldn't wait to get back to the theatre.

Anthony Newley never really wanted to be a pop singer. He wanted to be in the theatre. The trouble was, the British public had other ideas, and in February 1960 they kept "Why" at number one for four consecutive weeks, making it very difficult for him to pretend the whole pop star thing wasn't happening.

The route to the chart had been almost accidental. Newley had been cast as a rock and roll singer in a 1959 film called "Idle on Parade," recorded a few songs for it, and watched in mild surprise as one of them reached number three. The record industry noticed. So did the public. Before long, Terence Nelhams-Wright from Hackney, the boy who had played the Artful Dodger in David Lean's Oliver Twist, was one of the most recognisable faces in British pop.

"Why" was written by Bob Marcucci and Peter De Angelis, a pair of American songwriters who knew exactly what the teenage market wanted. Newley gave it something extra though. That slightly theatrical quality in his delivery, the sense of a performer actually thinking about the words rather than just singing them, lifted the record above the merely competent. Four weeks at number one. His first chart-topper, and not his last.

What makes the story interesting is where he went next. "Stop the World, I Want to Get Off." West End. Broadway. A creative life that made the pop hits look like a warm-up act. Which, for Newley, they probably were.

Seven Inches of History is Rainbow Valley's bite-size series working through every UK number one of the 1960s, one record and one story at a time. Short, sharp, and full of corners you didn't know were there.

Every episode is waiting for you at https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley.

Follow us on Twitter at @rv_podcast.

#AnthonyNewley #Why #SevenInchesOfHistory #RainbowValleyPodcast #UKNumberOne #BritishPop #1960s #PopHistory

One week at the top, a lifetime of sadness behind the smile.

The first brand new number one of the 1960s belonged to a man from Liverpool with a voice like warm honey and a stage name chosen for its lightness. Michael Holliday. It suited him perfectly. What it didn't tell you was anything about the anxiety and depression that shadowed every step of his career.

"Starry Eyed" went to number one on January 24th 1960, held off the blocks for one week before Anthony Newley came along and nudged it aside. One week sounds brief. In a chart as competitive as early 1960s Britain, one week at the top was no small thing.

Holliday had built his career on a voice that drew inevitable comparisons to Bing Crosby, warm and unhurried, perfectly suited to the kind of professional pop that Norrie Paramor produced for him at Columbia Records. "Starry Eyed" was exactly that kind of record. Bright, melodically comfortable, performed with a ease that concealed how much work had gone into making it sound effortless. His second number one, following "The Story of My Life" in 1958, and a reminder that before the beat groups arrived, this was what British pop sounded like at its best.

The sadder part of the story is what came after. The commercial tide was turning. The 1960s had different ideas about what pop should sound like, and the warm baritone crooner wasn't part of them. Holliday died in 1963, at thirty-eight. The inquest returned an open verdict.

Seven Inches of History tells all of it. The hits, the stories, the people behind the records. These are Rainbow Valley's bite-size episodes, short and focused, dropping into the main feed as the series works its way through every UK number one of the decade.

Listen to this episode and everything else Rainbow Valley has made at https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley and follow us at @rv_podcast

#MichaelHolliday #StarryEyed #SevenInchesOfHistory #RainbowValleyPodcast #UKNumberOne #BritishPop #1960s #PopHistory

The record that started a decade, and made history doing it.

The 1960s didn't begin with a fanfare. They began with a carry-over. Emile Ford and the Checkmates had reached number one back in November 1959 with "What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For" and when January 1st 1960 arrived, they were still sitting comfortably at the top of the British chart. The new decade started mid-song. There are worse ways to begin.

But here's the thing about that chart position that goes well beyond the novelty of a decade boundary. Emile Ford was the first Black British artist ever to reach number one on the UK singles chart. That's not a footnote. That's a headline.

Ford had come to Britain from the Bahamas in the mid-1950s, part of the wave of Caribbean immigration that was reshaping the country whether the country was ready for it or not. He studied in London, formed a group with his brothers, and built a sound that was warm, bright, and completely irresistible. The record itself was a cover of a 1917 music hall song, updated for the skiffle age and produced with a lightness that made it feel effortless. Six weeks at number one. A place in history that the British pop world was slow to acknowledge but cannot now take back.

This is the story that opens Seven Inches of History, one of Rainbow Valley's shorter bite-size episodes that drop into the main podcast feed alongside the full-length documentaries. The series is taking on every UK number one of the 1960s, one record at a time, and this is where it all begins. One man, one song, one extraordinary first.

Find this episode and the full Rainbow Valley back catalogue at https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/rainbowvalley and follow us on Twitter at @rv_podcast.

#EmileFord #TheCheckmates #SevenInchesOfHistory #RainbowValleyPodcast #UKNumberOne #BritishPop #1960s #PopHistory

Episode 018 of The Rainbow Valley podcast – telling the stories that made the swinging decade.

Join me as I tell the story of the movie that nearly brought 20th Century Fox crashing to the ground.

The longest and most expensive movie ever made at the time.

The movie that nearly killed it's leading lady, Elizabeth Taylor.

The movie that sparked one of the greatest romances of the twentieth century.

Ladies and gentlemen, Rainbow Valley is proud to present the story of the making of Cleopatra (1963)

This and other episodes are available on our website rainbowvalley.libsyn.com

You can follow the podcast on Twitter @rv_podcast

Join our Facebook group

Or send us your thoughts and feedback to [email protected]

#Podpals

#podernfamily

This has been a Stinking Pause production.

Thanks for listening

Scott

http://rainbowvalley.libsyn.com/podcast

In London in the 1880s, the city was gripped by fear. A killer was prowling the cobbled, fog heavy streets of Whitechapel murdering prostitutes in a chilling reign of terror.

Fast forward seventy years and a new killer was on the loose, this time, not in the impoverished Victorian East End, but towards the west.

Again his victims of choice would be prostitutes. Believed to have claimed anything up to possibly seven lives, or even more, his identity, again like the infamous Jack, was never discovered….or was it?

The newspapers dubbed him The Nude Killer or Jack the Stripper and his crimes are now pretty much forgotten. At the time, his crimes led to one of the largest manhunts in British history with some famous suspects along the way.

There would be links to high ranking officials, world famous sportsmen and the Profumo affair.

Ladies and gentlemen, Rainbow Valley is proud to present the story of The Hammersmith Nude Murders.

This and other episodes are available on our website rainbowvalley.libsyn.com

You can follow the podcast on Twitter @rv_podcast

Join our Facebook group

Or send us your thoughts and feedback to [email protected]

This has been a Stinking Pause production.

Thanks for listening

Scott