At some point in 1974, CKLW began an extensive promotion. They asked listeners to send in post cards (how very quaint!) listing their favorite songs of all time. It was either 3 songs or 5 they wanted; I forget which. For that matter, I don’t recall whether I sent in a post card. After some weeks of collecting data, Radio 8 (as they called themselves) began playing the results of our voting, presented as The Top 300 Songs of All Time.
Those 300 songs were played over the course of a weekend, played in reverse order, climaxing with the great reveal of Number One. A few siblings and I really got into it, with someone manning the radio at almost all times, writing down each song as it came.
Momentum built slowly. The songs at the bottom of the list were a mixed bag, many of them relatively obscure records older than any of us. While I don’t recall any specific titles, I imagine the list’s lower tiers included such ditties as “Elusive Butterfly” by Bob Lind or “Personality” by Lloyd Price – or songs that us kids didn’t know at all, which would have given us an excuse to grab a snack or go to the bathroom.
As we got into the top 100, excitement began to build. We were now in territory where we knew every song. The stylistic breadth of the collection was striking, ranging from Motown to bubblegum to adult contemporary to rock n’ roll to novelty songs, and everything in between.
When we reached the top 10, the heavy hitters came up to bat. I think “Hey Jude” by the Beatles was in there, for example. A lengthy commercial break preceded the playing of Number One. It gave us time to wrack our brains and try to figure out what mammoth classic hadn’t been played yet. I must confess we were stumped.
The commercial break ended. The DJ’s excited, resonant voice boomed out, “And now, the number one song of all time!”… and we heard a man’s voice singing “O ho-ho-ho… O ho-ho-ho…” Yes, the number one song of all time was “Kung Fu Fighting” by Carl Douglas. Yes it was. My siblings and I let out a moan of anguish. Nowadays, I might call shenanigans, but I’d never heard that expression in 1974. You see, “Kung Fu Fighting” was indeed a big hit. It had climbed to #1 on the charts only weeks earlier. And we knew, beyond all doubt, that this was the ONLY reason it was now the number one song of all time.
We knew it was a goofy near-novelty song. It did not belong among the pantheon of immortal songs we’d been listening to all weekend. Despite our tender young ages, I think we all knew that this contest had just been unmasked as a sham. I think we grew up a little bit at that moment; lost a bit of innocence. We had just been told, in big capital letters, that PEOPLE WERE STUPID, that their better sense could be swayed en masse by whatever song happened to be atop the charts at that moment.
History seems to have borne us out in the succeeding four decades. “Kung Fu Fighting”, if it is played at all nowadays, is heard as a goofy piece of nearly forgotten disco fluff. Not that it’s a bad song; heck, you can dance to it and do faux kung fu moves for all 3:15 of its running time. If someone wants to include it somewhere on their Top 300 list, I won’t quibble. But those DJ’s words still ring bitterly in my ears after all these years: