Why they've stood the test of time
In a whirligig pop world, it is good to be able to hang on to something stable in the shape of Status Quo.
The appearance in this week's chart of their tongue-in-cheek ode to pessimism, Jam Side Down, means the group have secured a hit in each of the past five decades. The Rolling Stones, for all their durability, cannot match a record like this.
The secret of their success has been a careful avoidance of fixing something that is not broken.
The Quo have been playing the same couple of chords for half an average lifespan. They claim to be on good terms with a third chord, but a team of experts who have been investigating this claim since 1974 still have not reached any firm conclusions.
The fact is that we like it simple. The Quo have a distinctive rhythm - a medium-to-fast chug - which sets the toes atapping. They also have the gift for catchy melodies which lodge firmly in the brain, like lice attached to a dog. This is the combination that gives their music its adhesive power.
Ironically, when the Quo first gatecrashed the public consciousness, they were a bit of a fraud. Their first hit was a ditty called
Pictures Of Matchstick Men (1968) and archive footage of the group on Top Of The Pops shows them pretending - none too convincingly - to be in the grip of flower power.
The public soon tired of this transparent con and, with much relief on both sides, Status Quo reverted to type.
The uniform was established early on as jeans and plimsolls - we are in the pretrainer era here - and very long hair. The Quo liked to get down and boogie, which meant them disappearing behind a wall of thrashing hair while they beat the hell out of their guitars. I saw them first at the Reading Festival in 1972 where they stole the show with a display of unremitting brio and bonhomie. I saw them last at their 25th anniversary in Minehead in 1992, and they were just as good, probably because they played exactly the same set. There was a rumour that they were even wearing the same jeans.
This latest hit is sweet revenge for the band.
A couple of years ago, Quo mainmen Francis Rossi and Rick Parfitt threatened to sue Radio 1 for not playing their records. They got no satisfaction at the time, but now is a moment for them to savour.
We also owe the Quo a big thank-you for never having once ascended the soapbox to deliver their opinions on matters of great import. The boogie never preaches, it just goes on for ever.
