1990 The Righteous Brothers: Unchained Melody

Second time at the top for this and a visit that by itself is not without it's own irony - 'Unchained Melody' comes from the soundtrack of the long forgotten prison drama 'Unchained' whereas its new lease of life was down to Jerry Zucker's from beyond the grave rom-com 'Ghost'. But I can't begrudge it that - this Righteous Brothers version unfairly only managed to reach number 14 on its 1965 release yet it remains (for me anyway) the definitive article, totally eclipsing Jimmy Young's thin gruel hit version from ten years earlier.

What makes it better? After all, it all sounds so rote in its execution, but like watching the scene setting opening three minutes of Orson Welles' 'A Touch Of Evil', it's only when you analyse Welles' one unbroken shot that you appreciate there's genius at work here. Phil Spector, popular music's own Orson, supplies a production that winds in the slack by slowing the song from a Bolero to a heartbeat. And by knocking down his usual wall of sound there's acres of space for Bobby Hadfield to slow burn over centre stage (though credited to the Brothers, this is a solo vocal).

For the first half of the track anyway - though Spector's savvy enough to fill the blanks with a wash of echo that highlights just how alone Bobby is, the simple slam of a drum at two minutes winds up the intensity as Hadfield's initially measured vocal goes wobbling off piste with increasing desperation until an anguished "I neeeeeeed your love" at 2:57 puts a crack in the bell of his tenor, bringing his frustration to the boil in a cry that wants to believe that stating something baldly enough will make it so.

But it doesn't, and he crashes to earth again, chaste in his emotion and still very much alone apart from an appeal to a God who may or may not be listening to make him happy. Performance art writ large maybe, but I never tire of listening to 'Unchained Melody' in the same way I never tire of watching Laurel and Hardy films; even though I know full well what's coming, it still manages to slow boil me unnoticed in its low heat like a frog in its saucepan. And who remembers the pottery now either?