by Tom Townshend

Thank You For A Lifetime, Cliff

In a bid to have an unprecedented number one single in six decades, Cliff Richard is about to release a new single, but why is the Peter Pan of Pop not treated like a National Treasure? Tom Townshend explores Cliff's past, present and… future?

You may have read in the news (between the credit crunch and the wars) that Sir Cliff Richard's new single is being released in a bid to score an unprecedented six decades of chart toppers. Thank You For A Lifetime also marks the 50th anniversary of his first hit, Move It, which was followed a year later by his first number one Living Doll.

And a quick listen to the lyrics of what will hopefully become his 125th UK Top 40 entry, reveals that this may well be the 67-year-old star’s swansong, his last hurrah, the ultimate Summer Holiday. Cliff Richard appears to be preparing to leave the building called pop for good. Can it be so?

The cynic in us probably has a suspicion that if this bid for the record books fails he’ll probably have another go next year (even if he has to go back in disguise as he did with 1998’s Radio One-shaming Blacknight single). And if he succeeds then we can be sure he’ll try and top it with a seventh decade in 2011. It’s not like he’s going to grow old now, is it? This is Cliff we’re talking about. But let’s pretend for a moment that this really is the final goodbye. Why should we, as twenty first century music lovers, give a damn?

It would be difficult to explain to a new visitor to planet Cliff, quite why he’s considered such a joke in this country. After all, he has released a whopping 38 albums in his career (only five of those failing to make the Top 40), he’s done a tremendous amount of work for charity – including working for famine relief long before Live Aid made it fashionable – and he’s really, really nice! What is our problem?

Our problem is that we’re British and we don’t celebrate success, we mock it. This is largely a healthy attitude which stops us from becoming fawning simpletons at the feet of fame. But sometimes it goes too far. So far, in fact, that we fail to recognise greatness at all.

Cliff Richard in the film Summer Holiday(Image © PA)

So, in Cliff’s case, what greatness are we talking about? Let’s start at the beginning. Cliff Richard was the number one rock & roller in Britain during the 50s. Sure, there were greats like Billy Fury, Marty Wilde, Tommy Steele… But no one got that mix of edgy sexuality and boyish charm as spot on as the man born Harry Roger Webb. Backed by the Drifters, then the unmistakeable twang of The Shadows, songs like Mean Streak and High Class Baby really rock. And they roll. Sure you can snark that his sneer, quiff and pelvic swivel were merely an Elvis impersonation (and Cliff would be the first to agree). But all great singers grow up wanting to be someone else, even Mr Presley.

And while his sound may have softened soon after, and his conversion to Christianity in 1964 may have produced a few well meaning but naïve records that haven’t stood the test of time, his reinvention as a powerful seventies pop star and showman is not to be sneezed at. Don’t believe us? Listen to Devil Woman, it’s seriously funky (well, as funky as the son of wealthy colonials ever can be). 1979’s We Don’t Talk Anymore would be a hit for anyone in any decade (doesn’t it sound like The Feeling?) and Miss You Nights has a lyric more resigned and lonely than anything Morrissey could concoct in his darkest hour. Check this out: “I’ve had many times / I can tell you / Times when innocence Id trade for company”. None more emo.

And sitting atop such an incredible back catalogue is Wired For Sound. This 1981, Alan Tarney produced masterpiece, is not a guilty pleasure since there’s simply nothing to feel guilty about with a record this exhilarating, this life-affirmingly brilliant. And the video has everything: rollerboots, walkman, a jumpsuit... If you wore that lot in East London today they’d make you the king of Hoxton Square. Cliff Richard practically invented the future with Wired For Sound.

And it doesn’t stop there. With the success of Denmark’s Alphabeat and their repositioning of perfect pop, circa 1989, we hope there’ll be a reappraisal of Cliff’s collaboration with Kylie’s godparents, Stock Aitken & Waterman, on his number three smash I Just Don’t Have The Heart. It’s better than anything Jason Donovan ever released. What do you mean, “that’s not difficult”? Seriously, it’s a fantastic record. You’d dance to it if it was by Take That.

And while singing The Lord’s Prayer to the tune of Auld Lang Sine, or the numerous Christmas novelty hits mightn’t be to your taste (we recall having bottles thrown at us when we tried to sing Millennium Prayer at the stroke of midnight 2000) it added to his astonishing record breaking career, putting him in the unique position of having achieved number one singles in five consecutive decades. If Cliff Richard were an Olympic medallist we’d hold national street parties for him and rename the pubs in his honour (or youth club coffee bars, at least).

And the incredible miracle is, he’s done it all while being a very, very nice man. And what’s so terrible about that? We’ve got enough nasty, stinky rock stars you wouldn’t trust to look after your pets. There’s surely room for one more nice guy (besides Dave Grohl), and if there is then let it be Cliff. He’d be the ideal dinner guest wouldn’t he? The perfect conversationalist, up for a game of swingball in the garden beforehand (and he can sing if it rains) and you can bet he’d offer to do the washing up too. And as an added bonus he’d bring his own wine – literally! Cliff’s Adega do Cantorhas vineyards, in Portugal, have produced award winning plonk. He’s gonna make some lucky lady a wonderful husband some day… Oh.

But avoiding speculation about his personal life (as if it’s any of our business) this latest single from Sir Cliff marks more than the end of a pop career. Woolworths have temporarily reversed their decision not to stock CD singles, for this release, further reminding us of the death of yet another musical institution (for those of us who grew up in towns without record shops – Woolies meant more than just pic ‘n’ mix). After Thank You For A Lifetime you won’t ever be able to purchase a single there again. That’s just a little bit sad, isn’t it?

So whether you buy Cliff’s single because you like it (and it is pretty darn fantastic, and not a little tear-jerking) or whether you buy it to support his admirable record breaking attempt (because who would you rather have at number one?), or whether you buy it merely as a way to say goodbye to a much-loved part of our pop heritage (be that the man or the format), the important thing is that you buy it. And when you’ve bought it, march about your local area proclaiming, “I have bought the new single by Cliff Richard, for he is great. Long live the Peter Pan of pop.”

In his own words, he's "the most radical rock star there has ever been". Amen to that.

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