The history books record it as the first ‘country record’ to top the British charts, but even Shania in full-on sitars-and-bongos mode would blush at claiming this one for Nashville. Tennessee’s chucklesome hick baritone is the only remotely downhome signifier here; everything else is slathering strings and dewy-eyed sentiment which could have been happily placed with Frankie Laine or David Whitfield. Maybe the plodding march-time rhythm is meant to be countrified, too – it makes for a dreary listen whatever.

Score: 3

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