The 1970s were an era of sonic experimentation.
A lawless frontier nestled between the psychedelic hangover of the Sixties and the synthesized sheen of the Eighties. It was a time when record labels, flush with cash and desperate to find the 'next big thing', threw massive budgets at anything that sounded remotely original. This resulted in an eclectic cultural landscape where a six-minute flute solo could top the charts next to a singing puppet or a gritty tale of urban despair.
From the studio wizardry of art-rock to the primal screams of early punk and the sheer absurdity of the novelty boom, the airwaves were an open laboratory. There were no 'focus groups' – only the gut instincts of cigar-chomping executives and a public with an insatiable appetite for the eccentric. These 21 tracks are indelible proof that for one brief, shining moment, the mainstream was genuinely weird.
1. Focus – 'Hocus Pocus' (1971)
This Dutch masterpiece is an irresistible explosion of musical madness. A Top 20 hit in both the US and UK, it features heavy rock riffing interrupted by yodelling, scat singing, organ flourishes, and a frantic flute solo. It’s a textbook example of how prog rock could be both technically flawless... and completely unhinged. To hear it on Top of the Pops was to witness a band playing at the very edge of sanity. The song essentially functions as a circus act in a rock-and-roll stadium, proving that 1970s audiences were willing to embrace the transcendent and the ridiculous in equal measure.
2. Chuck Berry – 'My Ding-a-Ling' (1972)
It's a delicious irony that the primary architect of rock and roll achieved his only Number 1 hit with a live recording of a nursery-rhyme-style song about his genitals. While Berry’s earlier work was canonical and cool, this track is a striking example of the 70s' love for the lowbrow. The call-and-response with the audience makes it feel like a venerable piece of music-hall history, however uncomfortable it makes modern listeners. It stands as a reminder that even the most legendary figures weren't above a bit of crude humour if it meant a chart-topping comeback.
3. Lieutenant Pigeon – 'Mouldy Old Dough' (1972)
A massive UK Number 1, this instrumental track is unforgettable in its strangeness. Featuring a honky-tonk piano played by the band leader’s mother and a growled, distorted vocal hook that sounds like a Victorian ghost, it is a back-to-basics, foot-stomping anomaly. It felt less like a pop song and more like a fever dream from a haunted pub in the Midlands. Its success remains one of those 'what were we thinking?' moments in music history.
4. Blue Swede – 'Hooked on a Feeling' (1974)
While the song itself is a soulful cover, the Swedish band’s decision to add a 'ooga-chaka' jungle chant intro turned it into an indelible piece of pop culture. It is propulsive and catchy, yet fundamentally bizarre, blending a polished brass section with a chanting hook that sounds like it belongs in a different genre entirely. It’s a prime example of how a single, weird production choice can transform a standard tune into something unforgettable.
5. The Edgar Winter Group – 'Frankenstein' (1973)
An instrumental monster that conquered the US charts during the winter/spring of 1973, 'Frankenstein' is an utterly unique assembly of heavy riffs and Moog synthesizer screeching. It earned its name because the master tape had to be physically spliced together from dozens of different takes.
The result is a memorable slice of jazz-fusion masquerading as a hard rock anthem. It remains relentlessly heavy and forward-surging, showcasing Edgar Winter’s ability to wield a keyboard like a lead guitar. For a complex, wordless track to hit Number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 is a testament to how subversive the mainstream airwaves once were.
6. Kraftwerk – 'Autobahn' (1975)
A 22-minute electronic suite edited down to a three-minute single, this was a foundational moment for the future of music. Its robotic pulse felt alien compared to the blues-based rock of the era. Hearing the repetitive 'fun, fun, fun on the Autobahn' on the radio in 1975 was a tantalising glimpse into the digital future. It was playful in its simplicity, rejecting rock's emotional theatrics for a cold, monolithic precision. Kraftwerk proved that synthesizers weren't just toys – they were the keys to an entire new musical language.
7. Terry Jacks – 'Seasons in the Sun' (1974)
A global Number 1 for Canadian singer-songwriter Terry Jacks, this is perhaps the most poignant and morbid pop song ever to dominate the charts. A translation of a Jacques Brel song about a dying man saying goodbye to his friends and unfaithful wife, its upbeat, breezy melody masks a gut-wrenching narrative. The unabashed sentimentality of the lyrics struck a chord with millions, making it a staple of 70s radio that still feels hauntingly out of place today.
8. The Sensational Alex Harvey Band – 'Delilah' (1975)
Taking a Tom Jones classic and turning it into a theatrical nightmare, Alex Harvey created something truly subversive. With his menacing delivery and the band's vaudevillian backing, the song becomes a dark piece of street theatre that felt entirely out of place among the disco hits of the mid-70s. Harvey treated the stage like a grand canvas, and this hit single brought his unique brand of Scottish rock-theatre to the masses, proving that a cover song could be both a tribute and a total demolition.
10. Jethro Tull – 'Living in the Past' (1972)
A hit single written in the unconventional 5/4 time signature, this track brought folk-flute and complex jazz rhythms to the masses. Cerebral, eccentric, it somehow became a staple of AM radio, proving that the 70s audience didn't mind a little math with their melody. Ian Anderson’s high-octane flute playing and the song's dynamic bassline created a sound that was both ancient and modern. It remains a touchstone moment for prog rock, showing that sophisticated, playful compositions could still function as catchy, three-minute pop singles.
10. C.W. McCall – 'Convoy' (1975)
The 70s CB Radio craze peaked with this spoken-word story about a massive truck convoy crossing America. It’s a vigorous piece of Americana that features authentic 'trucker slang' and simulated radio static. While all-pervasive in its time, it now stands as a time capsule of a very specific, and very strange, cultural obsession. The song’s sweeping success – hitting Number 1 on both the pop and country charts – shows how a niche subculture can briefly become a national phenomenon through the power of a catchy, story-driven hook.
11. 10cc – 'I'm Not in Love' (1975)
While it sounds like a standard ballad, the "backing vocals" were actually created by a painstaking tape-looping process involving 256 voices. The result is a haunting wall of sound that feels more like an ambient experiment than a pop hit. It is a landmark achievement in studio engineering, with a paradoxical lyric that denies the very emotion the music seems to project. The whisper of "Big boys don't cry" adds an eerie layer to the track, cementing its status as a strange masterpiece of 70s pop.
12. Mike Oldfield – 'Tubular Bells' (1974)
An instrumental prog-rock theme that became a global phenomenon (largely thanks to its use in The Exorcist). It’s a lovingly crafted arrangement of bells, organs, and guitars that builds to a visceral climax as each instrument is announced. Its success proved that the public was ready for long-form, wordless musical journeys. Oldfield’s luminous composition remains a record that defines the risk-taking ambition of the decade. It is a canonical work that transformed a struggling new label (Virgin Records) into a global empire.
13. Wizzard – 'See My Baby Jive' (1973)
Roy Wood’s masterpiece is a sheer explosion of "everything-but-the-kitchen-sink" production. With its heavy Phil Spector/Wall of Sound influence, honking brass, and Wood’s bizarre, glitter-covered appearance, it was an incendiary piece of Glam Rock that felt like a 1950s prom being held on another planet. The song is surging and joyous, yet the sheer density of the sound is irresistible. It represents the technicolour excess of the Glam era, where the music was as loud and colourful as the costumes.
14. The Residents – 'Satisfaction' (1976)
While only a minor hit in some regions, this cover of the Stones' classic is the definition of abrasive. It strips the song of its swagger and replaces it with an alienated, mechanical dread. The guitar solo is ugly, mocking the polished rock standards of the day. It remains a landmark in avant-garde rock, a stripped-back deconstruction of a hallowed rock anthem. By turning a song about frustration into something truly frustrating to listen to, The Residents created a timeless piece of art-rock that still sounds shocking today.
15. Kate Bush – 'Wuthering Heights' (1978)
Kate Bush’s debut was a total anomaly in the 1978 musical landscape. At just 19, she bypassed standard pop tropes to craft a high-concept ghost story based on Emily Brontë’s classic novel. Her vocal performance remains one of the era's most daring choices; she utilized a glass-shattering soprano that felt both supernatural and deeply theatrical, rejecting the traditional grit of rock or the polished smoothness of disco.
The accompanying video amplified this strangeness. Clad in a flowing red dress amidst a foggy woodland (or white in the studio version), Bush performed interpretive dance moves – sweeping gestures and wide-eyed expressions – that felt like ancient ritual theatre. This combination of literary obsession and avant-garde movement created a lasting masterpiece that proved the mainstream could be conquered through pure, uncompromising eccentricity.
16. 'Kung Fu Fighting' – Carl Douglas (1974)
Recorded quickly as a B-side, 'Kung Fu Fighting' exploded into a global disco phenomenon. With its bouncing groove, mock-heroic lyrics, and instantly recognizable falsetto hook, the song rode the 1970s martial arts craze sparked by Hong Kong cinema. Playful yet undeniably danceable, it topped the U.S. charts and became a pop-culture time capsule – equal parts novelty record, disco classic, and kitschy crossover hit.
17. Wild Cherry – 'Play That Funky Music' (1976)
A group of white rock musicians wrote a song about people telling them to stop playing rock and start playing funk. Result: a mid-70s floor filler. Its white-boy-soul energy felt like a strange bridge between the rock and disco worlds, even if the lyrics are a bit, well, silly. Despite its novelty status, the groove is irrepressible and the guitar work is filigree. It stands as an iconic piece of 70s kitsch that managed to conquer the clubs and the airwaves simultaneously.
18. Warren Zevon – 'Werewolves of London' (1978)
Combining a jauntily macabre piano riff with lyrics about a well-dressed monster eating Chow Mein, this track is mischievous and darkly funny, a delicious slice of Los Angeles noir. While it seems like a novelty, the songwriting is on-the-button, proving that Zevon was a one-off talent who could turn a bizarre B-movie premise into an enduring rock radio staple.
19. Ian Dury – 'Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick' (1978)
A UK Number 1 that features jazz-inflected basslines, dual saxophones, and lyrics about international travel and art. Dury’s spoken-word, Cockney delivery proved that 'pub rock' could be as sharp and witty as any high-concept art piece. The song is dynamic and funky, yet it feels entirely unvarnished and punk in spirit. It remains an unbeatable example of Dury’s unique genius, an infectious track that invited the entire world to dance to a very strange, very British beat.
20. Brian Eno – 'Seven Deadly Finns' (1974)
Before he became the ambient master of the numinous and quiet, Brian Eno released this propulsive, sped-up rocker. It’s properly weird, featuring gibberish-adjacent lyrics and a frantic energy that anticipated the rebellious spirit of punk. Eno’s meticulous use of studio effects gives the song a jittery quality that felt light years ahead of its time. It is a transcendent piece of art-pop that showed Eno’s ability to be both a visionary theorist and a creator of high-energy chaos.
21. Pink Floyd – 'Money' (1973)
A massive hit featuring a 7/4 time signature and a rhythmic loop of cash registers and clinking coins. It's truly iconoclastic in its anti-capitalist message, especially considering how much money it made. As a staple of classic rock, it remains a classic example of how the weird and cerebral was able to gain hige mainstream exposure in the 70s. The song’s urgent bassline and fastidious sound effects created an unforgettable listening experience that proved prog rock could be as catchy as it was complex.
