Rainbow Valley

The Sixties had begun. Someone had apparently forgotten to tell the prosecution. It is 1960. The Beatles are still playing clubs, the mini-skirt is some way off, Britain has yet to start swinging and much of the country still carries itself with the reassuring conviction that there is a proper way of doing things. And then Penguin Books decides to publish Lady Chatterley's Lover. D. H. Lawrence's novel had been written more than thirty years earlier, but its frank treatment of sex, adultery and class had ensured that British readers had never legally been offered the complete, unexpurgated version. Penguin intended to change that, producing an inexpensive paperback that could be bought by virtually anyone. The establishment was not entirely delighted. In October 1960, Penguin Books found itself at the Old Bailey, charged under the recently introduced Obscene Publications Act. What followed became one of the most famous obscenity trials in British history and, almost accidentally, a wonderfully revealing port

Two voices, one microphone, a broken heart and a drum sound that seemed to arrive from somewhere in the future. This time on Seven Inches of History, we reach The Everly Brothers and "Cathy's Clown" – one of the most distinctive records of 1960 and a single that helped define the sound of pop harmony for years to come. Last time, we left Anthony Newley sitting happily at number one with "Do You Mind?" Unfortunately for Anthony, two brothers from America were approaching rather rapidly. Don and Phil Everly were hardly newcomers. By the spring of 1960 they had already enjoyed an extraordinary run of hits including "Bye Bye Love," "Wake Up Little Susie," "All I Have to Do Is Dream," "Bird Dog" and "Problems." Their close harmonies had become instantly recognisable, their records were selling by the million and an entire generation of aspiring singers was quietly trying to work out exactly how two voices could fit together quite like that. Then came "Cathy's Clown." And somehow, even by Everly Brothers standards

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

A dustbin, a donkey jacket and one of the biggest singalongs of 1960. 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, the

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 mi

"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 en

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 s

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 t

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 s

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

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 rainbowvalleypod@gmail.com #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.lib

It can certainly be safe to say that the 1960s produced some of the most dramatic changes in the world of popular music. From the early days of rock and roll, through to the swinging beat scene, the British invasion, American surf music and right through to the San Francisco sound of the peace and love generation, there was a voice that was there from the beginning. That voice was still there at the end of the decade and beyond. Sadly that voice is largely unknown to today's generation. Some of today's kids would probably only be vaguely familiar with it if they are fans of some of the biggest and most popular movies to come out of that decade. Matt Monro was described as the UK's answer to Frank Sinatra, a label he detested. For Matt Monro was not an answer to anything. Matt Monro was unique, he was his own entity, had his own marvellous style, and was possibly the finest male popular music singer the UK has ever produced.   You can follow the podcast on Twitter @rv_podcast Join our Facebook group Web

Episode 019 of The Rainbow Valley podcast – telling the stories that made the swinging decade.   Join me as I tell the story of one of the finest singers Britain has ever produced.   A true icon in the world of popular music, and one of the defining voices of the 1960s.   Ladies and gentlemen, Rainbow Valley is proud to present the story of Dusty Springfield.       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 rainbowvalleypod@gmail.com #Podpals #podernfamily   This has been a Stinking Pause production.   Thanks for listening Scott http://rainbowvalley.libsyn.com/podcast

1963 - a massive year in terms of news events.    A year that would see an increase in tensions in America as the battle for racial equality raged on. It would be the year in which a scandal in the UK involving call girls, Russian spies and MPs , would eventually bring down the government.  The Beatles would begin their dominance of the UK chart signalling the beginning of the British invasion, the Russians would make history as the first woman blasts off into space and Martin Luther King would declare to the world that he had a dream.  Along with the Great Train Robbery, the beginning of what would become known as the Moors Murders, the death of the Pope, and the assassination of the US president it truly was one of the most remarkable twelve months in the swinging decade. Ladies and gentlemen, Rainbow Valley is proud to present the story of the hits and headlines from 1963.  

Episode 020 of the Rainbow Valley podcast – telling the stories that made the swinging decade. Emil Savundra, for a brief period in the late sixties, was probably the most reviled man in the UK. A Sri Lankan swindler, the collapse of his Fire, Auto and Marine Insurance Company left about 400,000 motorists in the United Kingdom without coverage. As a post-war black marketeer, Savundra committed bribery and fraud on an international scale before settling in the UK to sell low-cost insurance in the fast-growing automotive market. By defaulting on mandatory securities, he funded a lavish lifestyle and travelled in fashionable circles. This attracted the attention of the press, who uncovered evidence of major fraud. In a TV interview with David Frost, Savundra demonstrated contempt for his defrauded customers (some of whom were in the studio audience) and denied any moral responsibility. That particular tv show witnessed the birth of trial by television and is a fascinating piece of broadcasting history.   Ladies

On August 1st 1960, an album on the Warner Brothers label reached number one in the Billboard Mono Action Albums Chart. It was the debut album for this particular artist and would remain at the top for fourteen weeks. The album would stay in the chart for two years selling over 600,000 copies near release and ranking as the 20th best selling album of all time on the Billboard charts. Its total running time was just short of thirty two minutes, it consisted of just six tracks, and was a recording of a live performance It won album of the year at the 1961 Grammy awards as well as best new artist for its performer. Yet this was no pop, folk or rock album. It was the first comedy album to win album of the year and the only time that a comedian had won best artist. That comedian was Bob Newhart and this particular album saved the struggling Warner Brothers Records label and changed the face of modern comedy and the way the world experienced stand up forever. Ladies and gentlemen, Rainbow Valley is proud to prese

1966: The Year We Won...And Lost The World Cup   As we head rapidly towards the 2022 World Cup finals in Qatar, you may be forgiven for thinking that this episode must surely recount the tale of how England won the world cup in the summer of 1966. You wouldn't be far off though as this episode of Rainbow Valley is the story of not how we won the World Cup that summer, but how we lost it. Three months before the World Cup finals were due to take place, the much coveted solid gold Jules Rimet trophy sat proudly on display in central London only to be stolen in what could only be described as a daylight robbery. Fast forward a week or so and the thief is apprehended but no sign of the most famous sporting trophy in world….until an incredible canine steps in to save the day. Ladies and gentlemen Rainbow Valley is proud to present the story of Pickles-the unlikely hero of the 1966 World Cup final You can follow the podcast on Twitter @rv_podcast  Join our Facebook group at Facebook/rainbowvalleypodcast    Or sen

WE'RE BACK!! Our first episode in two years is finally with you – and it's a cracker. Join Scott as he tells the story of the making of the movie Zulu. RAINBOW VALLEY – THE MAKING OF ZULU Rainbow Valley is a monthly podcast where your host, Scott takes a look at key events and personalities that shaped one the most influential, vibrant, tumultuous and swinging decades in history. Join us as we celebrate the 1960's with the stories surrounding the music and news events of the decade that shook the world. 22nd January 1879, Rorkes Drift, Natal, South Africa. A remote mission station, the setting for one of the most famous, battles in British history. But until 1964 and the release of the movie Zulu, the story of the events of those ten hours were not particularly familiar to the British public. In reality, 100 British soldiers defended a series of attacks by approximately 4000 Zulu warriors. By the end of the battle, which lasted from late afternoon until dawn the following morning, 15 soldiers were dead, two

The return of Rainbow Valley – the podcast that tells the stories about the swinging decade. Episode 023  The Theft Of The Duke Of Wellington Dr No, the first big screen outing for Ian Fleming's James Bond. Its 1962, and the movie would start to lay out a successful formula for most of the other movies that would follow in the series. Of course when we speak about  Dr No, most of us will remember Bonds introduction at the casino, Ursula Andress as Honey Ryder emerging from the sea in 'that' bikini or the scene where the spider crawls up Sean Connery's arm. But what about this scene….and in particular, one specific moment. James Bond and Honey Ryder have just met the evil Dr No in his underground lair. Before crushing an ornament with his metal hand and telling the pair of  SPECTRE's dastardly plan to hold the world to ransom, they are led away. As they walk up a small set of steps, Bond stops, noticing an oil painting on an easel to his right …. The painting was a portrait of Arthur Wellesly the first Duke o