It's 1977, and we're standing around at school apalled at the antics of the Sex Pistols. The filfth! The fury! But still intrigued to know what God Save The Queen actually sounded like. You couldn't buy it in any record shop near us, though when it was first released I did see it in Acorns, the local one. A man, thumbing through the singles, said: "I see you've got this". "Well," said the woman. "We had to."
Anyhoo, no one had ever heard it. Someone said it went (to the tune of Remember You're A Womble - younger readers, ask YouTube): "The Queen's a fucking bastard!". Well, no wonder it's been banned, everyone agreed.
However I'd seen the lyrics in Disco 45 magazine, a small papery thin monthly magazine that printed, shall we say, approximations of song lyrics. It was a godsend for someone like me who had terrible trouble making the words out. But once seen, never forgotten - I could stand before you know and reel off Uptown Top Ranking word perfectly. So I reeled them off: made you a moron, potential H bomb, etc.
People were amazed. For weeks, months, afterwards, I'd be approached regularly by schoolchildren asking me how the song went. For a brief moment there, I was cool. But I hid a shocking secret. I wasn't interested in the Pistols. I liked the Darts.
Well, when you're 12, it's only natural. Everyone liked them. Their blend of Fifties-inspired pop saw them have quite a lengthy and successful career. They were a bunch of misfits really: a balding man with an earring as lead singer. A huge monster-like man in shiny suits with big gray hair and a very deep voice. A black woman with a shaved head. What kind of band was this? But they were popular.
Now of course, there's room for the Pistols and the Darts in my life. And I know the words to both.
Here they are with the gorgeous It's Raining.
