1976 Pussycat: Mississippi

I visited the Museum of Modern Art in New York a few years ago and I was quite taken with a piece titled 'Once Were Loved'. It was a simple enough construction, being just a wall mounted with stuffed toys that had been found in the street or charity shops; in other words, toys that were loved once but no more.

The same principle seems to apply to certain number one singles too. I mean, it's a basic enough observation that there are some that endure. Age does not wither them and it's as if the passing of time justifies their status as the most popular song amongst the record buying public of that time. Conversely, there are those that slip off the radar once they've had their time in the sun - like the toys on that wall, they were popular once but not anymore.

Pussycat's 'Mississippi' is a good example of this I think, probably the best example from the whole decade in fact. How many will own up to remembering either band or song I wonder? And that's strange because it's a memorable song. With an American West Coast style backing and a very English Rose vocal, 'Mississippi' sounds almost stateless yet Pussycat were in fact Dutch, managing to do what other Dutch acts like Golden Earring and Focus before them couldn't - that is, get to number one.

An observational tale, 'Mississippi' tells how "the country song for ever lost its soul, when the guitar player turned to rock & roll". Which isn't factually correct on any level, but no matter - Pussycat were out to create a general mood of times past rather than re-write Tony Palmer and in that they do a fair enough job. Borrowing heavily from The Carpenters' 'Top Of The World', this 'Mississippi' flows along on a steel guitar led acoustic strum with treacly, overbearing strings ladled over the top with a honey spoon.

Ok, 'Mississippi' licks more than it bites, but it's saved from its own inconsequence by a highly distinctive lead vocal from Tonny Kowalczyk, a Mary Hopkin look-a-like who ambles behind the song's already lazy rhythm with a voice that's a distinctive mixture of cut glass and grit. It completely distracts from the nonsense of the lyrics and her yearning, regretful tone on the soaring chorus serves to remind of summer's past, so much so it never makes you question why a Dutch band should give two hoots about country music in the American south. 'Mississippi' is no masterpiece, but neither does it deserve to languish in forgotten limbo. Such is life I guess.