Mike Berry has sadly passed away. For Are You Being Served? fans (like me!), his passing marks the end of a kind of era - he was the last living member of the main cast.
Berry's Mr. Spooner took over Mr. Lucas' role as the junior in the gents' department after Trevor Bannister left the series. While Berry carried on the fine tradition of young-gun cheekiness that his predecessor established, Berry's Mr. Spooner was no mere replacement. Affable and easygoing, he fit right in with the Grace Brothers staff's shenanigans when he joined the series in its eighth season. It's a testament to Berry's talent, and the strengths of the show, that the addition of Mr. Spooner was pretty darn seamless - it was just (funny) business as usual on the department floor!
It's poignant now to remember that the series finale spotlighted Berry and his real-life vocal chops. (Berry's rich music career began in the early 1960s.) Aiming for pop stardom, with an over-the-top lamé getup and blond-accented quiff, Mr. Spooner was hilariously accompanied by the glitz-ed and glamour-ed staff as he crooned "Chanson D'Amour." Are You Being Served? went out with a flourish, and Berry provided the soundtrack.
My Mum didn't buy many records (the 45rpm single kind) but one of the few I can remember is The Sunshine of Your Smile by Mike Berry. It got to No. 9 in the UK charts in 1980. There was a better quality video of it but that seems to have been taken down.
As Tommy Vance, in the intro, says it's an old song (from 1913) but it's a good one. This version was produced by Chas Hodges, who I assume knew Mike from the 1960's when they both recorded for Joe Meek. Mike is probably best known for playing Mr. Spooner in the later series of popular TV show Are You Being Served. He's the only surviving main cast member of that show.
Chas Hodges was one half of the musical duo Chas & Dave (the other being Dave Peacock). He died in 2018.
MIKE BERRY (1942-Died April 11th 2025,at 82). English singer and actor, known for the top ten hits "Don't You Think It's Time" (1963) and "The Sunshine of Your Smile" (1980) and for portraying Mr. Spooner in Are You Being Served?.He was the last surviving member of the regular cast.Mike Berry (singer) - Wikipedia
A treat, this week, with not one but three songs by artists I've never heard of. Though it turns out that our first act is actually our first instance (I think?) of somebody breaking away from a boyband to pursue a solo career. Before there was Robbie, before there was Justin, before even the likes of George Michael and Michael Jackson, it turns out there's Jet Harris and Tony Meehan! Plus, more Joe Meek madness, and an absolute banger of an introvert anthem.
Diamonds - Jet Harris & Tony Meehan (peaked at Number 1)
It's yet another Shadows sound-a-like! Except this time, as hinted at in my intro, we're actually listening to some genuine ex-Shadows, Jet Harris and Tony Meehan. Guitarist Jet's split from the band was, by all accounts quite acrimonious, following various disagreements - see the last Shadows single he was on for a bit more info on that. Long story short, he was making a bid for a solo career, had already had some success with a cover of Besame Mucho. Tony, meanwhile, a drummer, had left to work in the music industry as a producer in his own right. He'd go on to become really quite influential, in this role, working for Decca. But here, he was just starting out and suggested that he and Jet might team up. They recruited Jerry Lordan, writer of Apache and Wonderful Land, too, just to Shadows things up even more.
Unsurprisingly, given all this, you've got a track that sounds very Shadows-like. It's an instrumental rocker, with strong Western overtones, some shimmery guitar, a cool title, and a catchy A-tune, interrupted by a more muted B-section. All stuff you'd find in any old Shadows track. And yet, it's kind of cool - certainly cooler than anything the Shadows have put out recently! There's something about the blisteringly good drumming, the eerily detached-sounding backing singers, the deep twang of the guitar, the raucous saxophone solo that comes screaming in in the middle, rasping and howling. It's punchy, good campy fun in the same way that Apache was. Jet and Tony feel like a dynamic duo of bad boy breakaways, peeling off from the Shadows to put out their own cheekily similar music, leaving their old bandmates in the dust.
Interestingly, the song's also notable for having some interesting session musicians. Because Jet's playing the lead twangy guitar, sure. But there's a whole lot of other guitar going on, and bass too. And playing that guitar? None other than Jimmy Page, and John Paul Jones, who would go on to found Led Zeppelin together. So yeah, things are coming together here. And I can't help but imagine people like young Jimmy taking tips from Jet. The Shadows were absolute pioneers in the "making guitars sound cool" business, and Jet was apparently at it on this track, even, detuning his bass so it could play lower than you normally would be able to. Fancifully, I'm imagining John and Jimmy sitting there taking notes. "Hmmm, distorted guitar, you say?"
Don't You Think It's Time - Mike Berry & The Outlaws (6)
Ooh, okay. This starts real tinkly, and there's a sort of slightly chaotic vibe to this one that doesn't really let up. We've got jumpy ice cream van chines, we've got unpolished, skiffly guitar backing, we've got lots of percussive noises, we've got backing vocalists. There's a lot going on, here, and the song goes at a million miles an hour, it really doesn't wait around. I feel rushed off my feet, and slightly bewildered. It's got that same echoey, anxiety-inducingly busy feel that Globetrotter did, last week. Which possibly is no accident, seeing as how both acts were produced by Joe Meek. Who I'm gradually getting a feel for - in retrospect, even acts like Emile Ford had the same echoey, slightly lo-fi, busy sound, but it's really crystallised around the Tornados and people like Mike Berry. Looking forward to seeing it develop!
And amid all this, you also get a vocal delivery that's more Buddy Holly than anything. Which perhaps shouldn't shock us, seeing as how Mike, like many other young artists of the early 60s, seems to have got his start playing Buddy Holly covers and a song literally called "Tribute to Buddy Holly" which the BBC deemed too morbid to give airplay. So yeah. Lots of rather Buddy-esque hiccups and the classic "bay-beh" pronunciation of "baby". Plus we get lines about huggin' and a-kissin'. Which is just the most Texas-ass way of talking about love. Very old-timey, very quaint, very all-American.
I will say that lyrically, I'm not hugely invested in this one. It's mostly just about how Mike feels the time is right to get together with his love. It's fine, but a bit basic. And I also feel like Mike's misreading things, a bit. I mean, in the opening lines, he's having to ask hey, hey, baby / Where'd you think you're runnin' to? If you have to ask where your lover's running off to, that's generally a bad sign. In context, it makes the don't you think it's time? lines sound more desperate than anything, a bit to persuade a partner who's really not that into him. I don't think the line about how my heart's pinin' helps, either. Surely, if Mike's pining after this person, then that by definition means that they aren't currently reciprocating his love? And yet, seemingly unable to read the room, Mike still insists on asking his love can't you hear the church bells chime? Which I can't read as anything other than a reference to getting married. Holy zero-to-a-hundred, Mike! Slow your roll, champ! She's clearly not that into you, why on earth are you bringing marriage into this?!
Up on the Roof - Kenny Lynch (10)
Thankfully, here to chill things out, it's Kenny Lynch, with Up on the Roof, a Goffin-King song that's better known as a Drifters number, but that absolutely keeps a lot of the same chilled-out charm here. Because it's a song that's not about romantic woes, whether great passions or searing heartbreak. Instead, amazingly, it's just a song about wanting to chill out on the roof, withdrawing from society to somewhere safe, somewhere just for you.
Gerry Goffin has gone on record saying that this was partly inspired by scenes from the film version of West Side Story, in which characters hang out on tenement roofs. But even without that context, it's just a really beautiful song. I could quote almost every line and go on about how relatable it is. When this whole world starts getting me down, Kenny sings, and people are just too much for me to face / I climb way up to the top of the stairs / And all my cares just drift away. For me, at least, this is a beautiful and really accurate way of describing that feeling you get when you're socially drained, and just get home and have the place to yourself. It's the best feeling, and I'm glad somebody put it in a song. Also, clock that classy little internal rhyme between "stairs" and "cares". That's that Brill Building songwriting, guys!
And the song continues in the same excellent vein, with lines about how when I come home tired and weak / I go up where the air is fresh and sweet. The quiet freshness of the breeze contrasts with the noise, the crowds, the whole rat-race down below. Kenny, in this song, has literally ascended to a higher plane, a paradise that's trouble-proof. It's a perfect little tucked-away spot, and to make it even better, at night the stars put on a show for free. Which is genuinely beautiful. There's something really cool about it, something kind of bohemian and romantic, about finding beauty and peace somewhere humble and unexpected, somewhere that other people might overlook. The introvert stargazer in me is unbelievably charmed by all this.
And then, because you do need a bit of the more traditional kind of romance to sell records, I guess, you finish with a little nod to love, with lines about how darling, you can share it all with me, and how there's room enough for two / Up on the roof. Which I kind of love. I like how understated it is, how it's just this casual offer, easy to overlook, but meaningful. I mean, this is Kenny's private happy place, his little corner of the world. Offering to let somebody else in there, to compromise the sanctity of your little private world, simply because it's beautiful and good and you want the other person to have that? That's, like, the definition of love. There's something very profound and very touching about it, in a quiet, low-key way.
Okay, that's me done getting overemotional about rooftops. It was a great song, though, and clearly made me feel things. Still, there were quite a few things I didn't mention, while I was busy getting overemotional about rooftops, that means I can't quite award it favourite song. Not least, there's just a few audio quality issues. I loved Kenny's voice, but there was something really grating about the instrumental bit, especially the violin solo, which was actively quite painful to listen to. It's the same issue that plagued another of our songs this week. I'm enjoying getting a feel for Joe Meek's rather eccentric, experimental production style. But Mike's offerings felt chaotic, overly busy and noisy. Plus I'm still just not that convinced that his girls' actually into him. No, the winner this week has to be the song with the crispest sound, the deepest twang, the wildest sax. It's the product of our first bit of boyband drama. And I have to say, if this is what boyband drama can produce? Bring it on!
Gisteren is Mike Berry gestorven (zijn echte naam was Mike Bourne). Hij is bij ons uitsluitend bekend als zanger van “Tribute to Buddy Holly” in 1961, maar ik leer nu ook dat hij van 1981 tot 1985 te zien was als mr.Spooner in de sitcom “Are you being served”.
Continue reading Mike Berry (1942-2025)
This is a bit of a departure from my usual posts, but I just want to gush for a bit about the history of my personal favorite song, Drift Away. I've loved this song ever since I was a kid, and now I'm rediscovering a love for it and its history.
I love this song's lyrics about being down and depressed but being willing to just let yourself go and be entranced by a song that can move your soul and lift your spirits. It helps that Drift Away, more than just being a song that tells you to let go, also has the rhythm and overall vibe to be the perfect song for that purpose. It's a song that feels like meditation, I always feel more relaxed and less tense after hearing it.
I don't fancy myself a music historian, most of this is just from the Wikipedia page, Google, and Youtube, so if anyone who knows more wants to chime in, feel free.
Drift Away was originally written in 1970 by Mentor Williams:
It was then performed for the first time by Mike Berry, in 1972:
I don't know if it's just the recording, but this isn't my favorite version. The electric guitar is peaking the speakers and it doesn't have the now-iconic intro riff.
Two months later, still 1972, it was performed by John Henry Kurtz:
This recording is cleaner, and the singing is more "yodel-y", which fits the vibe of the song but isn't my personal jam. It still doesn't have the intro riff.
One year later in 1973, it would be recorded by Dobie Gray, and it found its footing as a soul rock song:
This version introduces the intro riff and makes the song mellower, and it's one of my personal favorite versions. This version became an international hit, peaking at number 5 on the billboard hot 100.
Later the same year, in 1973, a country version would be recorded by Narvel Felts:
This version was a moderate success on the country charts, but I'm not really a fan. It changed the lyric "rock and roll" to "country song", which I'd be fine with if it didn't destroy the rhyme with "free my soul".
It's also more upbeat and bouncy, more of a dance song, which doesn't really fit the downbeat vibe of the lyrics. It also didn't use the intro riff.
In 1992, Micheal Bolton released a very different cover of Drift Away:
It's... pretty interesting. It's weird, that's for sure. It's twice as long, Bolton completely changes the cadence of how certain lines are sung, and he makes the song into more of an arena soft rock balled with a chorus singing behind him and everything. And no intro riff.
I don't hate it. I actually really like this version, it's just so different from every other version that it feels like a completely different song.
The most recent big cover (and probably the one you might have heard on the radio) was in 2003 by Uncle Kracker, featuring Dobie Gray (who did the soul version in 1973):
This is the version I heard first, and was most familiar with before this retrospective. Gray's involvement really helps elevate this version, paying homage to his version with a very similar style (including the riff). I also love the lyrical layering and backing between the two singers in the last quarter of the song.
In fact, it's interesting to look at this version in the context of the whole history of the song. Drift Away was originally penned by a white writer, found success 3 years later with a black singer, then 30 years later, a white singer collaborated with that same black singer to make the most well-known version nowadays.
There are dozens of other versions and covers of Drift Away throughout the years, these are just the major ones. If I missed any that you're particularly fond of, reblog with them, I'd love to listen to more versions of my favorite song.
