Chart entered : 11 June 1954
Chart peak : 7
Number of hits : 27
Petula was six months younger than Alma Cogan and though she hasn't troubled the singles chart for a while she is still an active recording artist which is pretty staggering.
At 21 Petula ( it is her real name ) was already a veteran. She first became popular at 9 as a morale-boosting singer on BBC radio during the last couple of years of World War Two. She became known as "Britain's Shirley Temple" and performed for both George VI and Winston Churchill. Her first ambition was to become an actress and she soon got her opportunity in the 1944 film Medal For The General. She had appeared in more than 20 films by the end of the 1950s. She also found plenty of work on television in the late 40s.
Petula's early singles "Put Your Shoes On Lucy" and "I'll Always Love You" recorded in 1949 on Columbia when she was 16 sound like something from the ark. She recorded "Two Lips" a duet with 34-year old comedian Benny Lee for Decca in 1950 which is unlistenably queasy. Neither Decca nor Columbia were convinced that Petula was a long-term prospect so her father Leslie set up a new record label Polygon with musical arranger Alan Freeman ( not that one pop pickers ! ) to promote her career. The quality didn't necessarily improve; many of her first singles for them were terrible novelty songs connected to the films she was making like the faux-Chinese "May Kwai", the half-whistled horror of "The Card " and "Where Did My Snowman Go" where the accompanying kids make those on Another Brick In The Wall sound Autotuned by comparison. By the time of "Christopher Robin at Buckingham Palace" ( worse than the title suggests ) she must have been wondering where her career was going. The immediately preceding single to this one , "Poppa Piccolino", ramps up the cheese factor so much it makes the already naff hit version by Diana Decker sound like Joy Division ; you can hear the desperation in Petula's voice.
"The Little Shoemaker " has the air of a novelty song but doesn't pall on first hearing despite the obvious earworm woodblock break that punctuates it. The simple French fairy tale attracted numerous covers ( the unfortunately named Gaylords took it to number one in the US later that year ) and Petula finds her true voice on the soaring chorus. This at last is recognisably the woman who was to sing Downtown breaking out and dancing all her cares away.
Now, after an hour listening to some of the worst music I've ever heard, I'm going for a lie down..
No comments:
Post a Comment