TONY DI BART – "The Real Thing"

Weak, basically. Not the worst no 1 of the year, or even close to it, and not without a certain, even rather fey, appeal. Not horrible, not even generic, exactly. And unlike so many club hits yet to be considered here, at least it wasn’t hyped to the top (and is better than at least some of them, too) But still…..not no 1 material, really. An abundance of negatives, basically, although the wimpiness- or if you prefer, poignant melancholicity of tone reminds me of nothing more than some of those brass band’s covers of acid house classics that greeting the opening of Tate Modern a few years later. Probably it is that sense of space – and of something approaching incipient despair on what should be a happy place, the dancefloor – that is the most appealing aspect of this track. That, and the “If I can’t have you” haunting hook….

If I carry on like this I will saying this is house music as imagined by Morrissey…

Much, much better than “Everything Changes” anyway. I’d give it a 5, maybe even pushing a 6. A very weird no 1, still

So what’s the relationship between this and Yvonne Elliman? Did he have to pay the Gibbs any royalties?

it’s hard to get worked up about this, one way or another – the rhythms sound formulaic, the melody derivative and the vocal tentative – I’ve listened to it two or three times and I still can’t remember it

From a straw poll of fellow music writers and office colleagues I took a few years ago, I am reassuringly not alone in drawing a near-complete mental blank when it comes to remembering this record. I remember it being in the charts, if not necessarily at number one, and for the last eighteen years I have even owned a copy – it is track five on disc one of the 2CD Dino label compilation Dance Massive (“40 Huge Great Hits Of The 90’s (sic),” two of which were hits in the eighties) – yet I could not recall the record at all without prompting.

Listening to it again for the first time in nearly two decades, it was clear why its memory has proved so elusive – the record is so light and practically not there that it was easy for it to float away from the banks of common memory. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. Tony di Bart came from Maidenhead, and “The Real Thing” was his moment; over an expansive but subdued post-House beat his very feminine vocal and the surprising politeness with which he asks for love (“Girl it’s got to be you/Oh, I need the real thing” is almost the equivalent of Oliver Twist asking for more) remind me of pre-Beatles idols like Mark Wynter and Jess Conrad; he seems in a way embarrassed to raise his voice above the music’s tempo – his three-note arch of “ooh” in the couplet “But when you touch me there/Ooh, you get me reelin’” is rather endearing in its naïvete.

It was a big club hit, but the beats are not forward thrusting, frequently drop out for beat-free clouds of synths and distant female backing vocals, looking forward in its own unwitting way to the quieter trends in ‘90s dance music which would be heralded by Robert Miles’ “Children” a couple of years hence. There is the ghost of Freeez in di Bart’s anguished “Come on stay tonight/Come on soothe my mind, oh honey” – not to mention an elusively palpable chorus lifted lyrically from Yvonne Elliman’s “If I Can’t Have You” – but also in its blinking eagerness the antecedent to Daniel Bedingfield. Its substance is not quite palpable, but it is more substantial than my memory was expecting.

Tiny little man with gelled hair, fitting a toilet, singing sadly to himself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of Tony, but that’s how I imagined him when I heard The Real Thing – which wasn’t very often.
Wasn’t this on some tiny dance indie, like a proto All Around The World?

“Weedy” was the general opinion among friends at the time. It encouraged feeble-voiced impressions. I get the idea that Tony was pleased with the “A-come on steh tonah-aht” line, which makes him sound like a real singer rather than a real plumber but, sweet Jesus, he’s not going to win any girl over with such a weak and melancholy voice.

Here’s an interview with TdB where he seems nervous, dull, and still refers to himself in the third person twice – that’ll explain his rapid rise and fall. I like the line about bathroom “design”.

And yet, his performance is quite charming in its own wimpy, ghostly way – a more confident vocal would have made the record much more unremarkable. Minor chords are always going to give a song a headstart for me, too.

Re 4: I agree, it’s a forebear of middling, faceless dance number ones. Not looking ahead (because I like surprises), I imagine they become more prevalent in the very near future, but certainly Tone doesn’t have the shock value facelessness of Steve ‘Silk’ Hurley.

Re 6: I think people talk about fragmentation more than ever.

This is the first song that I came across being played in different versions (I was twelve). I knew the one mix from Top Of The Pops, but then on the radio, possibly Atlantic 252, the song came on and it was full of all these saxophones. I could not understand what had happened to it.

Like most here, I can’t call this to mind readily. No YouTube at work, so I’ll comment later.

I liked this! But then I liked pretty much everything on Energy Rush: Xtermin8 (especially J ‘Rex The Dog’ X).

This is the first number one since I started paying proper attention to the charts (probably around 1980, aged seven) of which I had no memory at all. Not just that I couldn’t hum it; I didn’t know it existed. But maybe I was a bit distracted at the time by (a) glandular fever and (b) my university finals, and by the time I surfaced again it had slipped away.

Having given it a YouTube spin, I don’t find it actively offensive or anything, but to echo others above, it’s just so inconsequential that I’m puzzled enough people would love it sufficiently to send it to number one.

#18: as Kat says, JX aka Jake Williams later morphed into Rex the Dog.

The other great where-are-they-now of nineties Brit dance hits was Kicks Like A Mule, who had a hit with “The Bouncer.” As Richard Russell, he is now managing director of XL Records and therefore the man who brought us Adele (yes I know but…).

This came as a bit of a shock to me. For the first time since I started reading “Popular”, this is a number one for which my initial response was “Uh? Never heard of it”. That fact made me late for work this morning, since it bothered me so much that I had to immediately go to YouTube to investigate, and eventually – once the chorus kicked in (if “kicked in” isn’t over-emphasising things slightly) – I realised that I had indeed heard it before, but not particularly frequently. My alarm clock/ radio had broken at this point in my student years (probably from being thumped or knocked over one too many times, I suspect) and I’d replaced it with a cheap wind-up clanging, clattering alarm, all of which had impacted on my time spent listening to daytime Radio One. On top of that, I didn’t have a television at this point so “Top Of the Pops” and “The Chart Show” were no longer reference points – I have to wonder if this is going to impact on my knowledge of any other number ones in the coming few months.

Still, even at this point in history number ones were supposed to be ubiquitous for at least a week or so, played in pubs and bars, shopping centres and mainstream club nights, and this one definitely didn’t come on my radar very often. I don’t dislike it, and actually have a sneaking admiration for how despondent sounding and subtle it is. It sounds like an accidental hit. The chorus gently seeps into the song rather than sledgehammering you with its presence, and whilst it is most definitely a pop record, it’s not pop with a capital “P”. It’s brooding and minor key, almost as if some trip-hop influences have crept into what is otherwise largely a straightforward pop-dance record.

I can see how its inability to immediately grab a listener’s attention would be perceived as a weakness, though. The fact that it never really registered enough with me so that I’d actually remember the artist, title or indeed anything bar the chorus of the single years down the line does also prove that it’s an incredibly flawed piece of work, and not one I can imagine I’ll put on to my iPod even now I have reacquainted myself with it. In fact, in the time I’ve spent writing this I’ve already forgotten how most of it goes…

Crash Test Dummies are still out there touring and recording new music apparently. I say, apparently. I got this info 3rd hand from a friend who has a Canadian sister in law. She supposedly saw them in a bar not that long ago, complete with merchandise stall at the back of the venue.

#13: That’s probably because the version the did hit #1 was a remix. “The Real Thing” was first released in November 1993, but only hit #83.

#28 I remember ‘Do It’, just about (as well as the two other CTD top 40 hits), but OHWs for me are more about the gap in success between an artist’s biggest hit and second biggest – and these acts not cracking the top 20 with their follow ups to such strong debuts means they pass my clearly rigorous and watertight qualification processes.

# 26 “Mmm Mmm Mmm” actually fell to number four the week DiBart reached number one – that would have been more frustrating than Prince blocking it. Good to hear they’re still going – after buying three of their albums I finally accepted that “Mmm…” was a bit of a fluke and that voice over a dozen tracks is a bit wearing. Their best other song was the cover of XTC’s “Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead” , a minor hit in 1995.

Well after careful listening and watching the YouTube video, I can fully understand how this one slips in and out of consciousness so quickly. The notion that the flat vocal makes “The Real Thing” so forgettable is only partly to blame. I would suggest there’s a lack of a pumping bassline to underpin all that synth-cappuccino froth. And yes, when that first piano chord struck, I was like “Oh it’s this one!”. I must own at least 2 compilations with it on, but it’s a skipper isn’t it?

#36 well, that’s refreshing. I thought it was just me, but no “if I can’t have you, u r the best thing”. EVERY time.

Two things about this record concerned me at the time. Firstly, the threat of it becoming a no.1 seemed to have gone – and then it did become number one. 13-6-3-3-1. Watching the charts avidly since 1978, this was the first record to go 3-3-1.

But, why should I care? Why “the threat” not “the promise”?

That’s the second point. Wanting number ones to either be astonishingly good, or to fit with the Rules of Consumer Behaviour as exemplified by chart runs – or preferably both. This failed on the first count too.

Now, I’m no musicologist, but this is not astonishingly good. At the time it seemed to lack distinguishing features. As such, the “if I can’t have you” refrain seemed under employed. The lyric is utterly banal, the vocal weedy, the music – a sense of having heard it all before. Bad back then, and has worsened a little with age.

I did a lyrics quiz (on paper) for work colleagues in the 90s. Every number one since 1978 was featured, one extract from each lyric. I explained the absence of Doop, Jack Your Body and any other largely-instrumental hits (don’t remember any, not looking it up). I struggled to pick anything out of this one that anyone might recognise, and when I finally did it was the only record no-one remembered / guessed / worked out.

Can we sound the Baby Jump klaxon on Toni di Bart? Or is it is just people of a certain age who have no memory of The Real Thing?

I’d suggest it’s the most obscure no.1 of the decade so far (now close to halfway through) and have been looking forward to its appearance on Popular for that reason alone.

Re 40. A fascinating observation. I have run with it, and did some quick research from my notes to see how frequent this situation is. (the issue with “The Model” does happen on one other occasion) If you will indulge me, this is on the whole about records that make No1 for 1 week and spend no time at No2.

So, it happened 6 times in the 60s, twice in the 70s, twice in the 80s, 39 times in the 90s (all but Tony in the 95-99 years), 69 times in the 2000s, and 35 times so far in the 2010s.

Whilst looking this up I hoped the results would mirror the 12 years 1996-2007 where the number of entries in the charts rocketed* and didn’t calm down again until after the download rule changes in 2007. It starts of well with the numbers increasing during the second half of the 90s, but they never really fall back again. Apart from a brief lull in 2007/8 where there is just once instance, it averages about 10 a year. Acts like McFly, Oasis, U2, JLS all helped the cause on more than one occasion. There is a bit of a theme; they all have a strong fanbase, but it’s not by any means an exclusive club, eg. Coverdrive, DJ Fresh, Perry, Brown, Mental, Am, Yo, Mix, Fenty, Harris, 1D, and the Collective all contributed last year.

In some instances it does say “it’s not that good, but you have fans and your last single did well” A top 10 career,1-5-out, three weeks later everyone but the record company are denying it even went to No1! Equally it can say “the week after you hit No1 there were entries at No1 and No2 but you can still have a long life in the top 10. 1-4-5-6-6-6-7-7-7-7-7-(Rudimental) and people will remember the track.

To conclude, when the volume of new entries increased in 1996, the number of high new entries also increased and it was far more likely that you could have one week at the top and no weeks at No2. In 2007 when the turnover returned to normal the number of high new entries was maintained and therefor the frequency of the brief No1 remains high.

Witchita – although I can’t pretend not to know The Real Thing, it is “Baby Jump”. I think it will face a bit of competition for the most obscure No1 as we move through the 90s.

*see Tom’s notes under “The Strange Death of the UK Charts”

Diff tack: Here is a title that is the same as another act that had a number one

Tony Di Bart -> The Real Thing -> You To Me Are Everything

Are there any longer such chains?

#38:

This is a great record, youse are all idiots.

Two points:
1. Why did you have to start an otherwise interesting post in such a confrontational (and, I have to point out, ungrammatical) manner?

2. Care to tell us what you’re really upset about?

Re whether this is the most obscure number one of the decade so far. I nominate three other contenders:

1. Turtle Power (Partners in Kryme) – I could actually rap a fair bit of the first verse, but if you weren’t a fan of the Turtles I imagine you wouldn’t remember this at all.

2. Healing Hands (Elton John) – The flipside of Sacrifice, which I for one certainly couldn’t hum and may never have heard. But technically a number 1 song.

3. Game Boy (KWS) – Another alleged double A side, I have definitely never heard this and was surprised to find it listed – I thought Please Don’t Go was number 1 on its own. But according to Popular at least, it’s in the books.

Well, there’s always “Anitina” for impossible to remember ‘other’ double-A side hits. Conversely, there’s the ‘not often played but hear once and you remember it’ examples like “Girl School”, which ooh ooh another chart act linky!