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D.Ross

Ladies and gentlemen, pray silence – and listen to the worst version of ‘Why Do Fools Fall in Love?’ of all time.



What can I say? I’m so sorry for putting you through this.

I was blissfully ignorant of Diana Ross’ cover of this old doo-wop classic until just after 11 o’clock this morning, when Sir Terry included it as part of his Weekend Wogan playlist – and now I can never unlearn it.

Barely thirteen seconds into the record you already know you’re in for a bad thing: the high-tuned tom-fill that kicks things off; the backing vocalists that sound like they’ve started in a different key from the rest of the band, but would sooner persist than admit their mistake; the jaunty bassist who plays as if the chord chart fell off their music stand a few bars in, but isn’t going to let this hold them back for a second.

Even the piano part is awful; if it was any more devoid of soul you’d be asking a paramedic to check the pianist for signs of life.

It’s like everyone who participated in the session had their minds on something else. Maybe they were being threatened at gun point: “If you don’t cover my favourite Fifties hit, you’re going to get it, good.”

Whatever the excuse, the requisite sweet tooth to listen to it leaves you calling a dentist within minutes, clamouring for an emergency appointment.

No wonder Diana Ross is clutching her head in her hands on the album cover; I’d do the same if I’d committed such musical evil. Maybe this is why she doesn't like people making eye contact with her backstage: she's trying to conceal her own embarrassment.

I guess when she posed for the sleeve she knew that there was no going back; the deed was done. At the very least, she could have done the decent thing and retitled the album.

Ah, the Eighties: the decade that taste forgot. Thank God that we can always listen to the original Fifties version afterwards, to cleanse the palate.


Thanks, Terry. Thanks a bunch.
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