Busy Little Market Town is, knowing you lot, going to spark as much discussion as anything else on this site. There’s an awful lot of them (busy little market towns, that is). More on the Trumpton, Camberwick Green and Chigley music here.

Venus In Flares is the penultimate song to be added to this site (until a new album comes along, anyway). A song which is possibly better regarded than a close textual analysis might suggest, but then again, that’s the first album all over, and we love it. That Robert Powell has a theatre named after him at the University of Salford, you know.

I’m getting all misty-eyed with nostalgia adding the lyrics from the first album. Only two more songs to go after this, and (I think) the whole Project thing is complete; if you didn’t notice kids, we finished the other albums some time back. I aim to get the last song on the site in time for the forthcoming silver jubilee of Back In The DHSS: not long now before my publishing output’s all barren. Until a new album comes along, anyway – and we’ve got a head start on that. Anyway, here we go with 99% Of Gargoyles Look Like Bob Todd – a shoo-in, I’d have thought, into the top ten best-known and most widely-quoted HMHB songs of all time. Mr Todd slips comfortably into the top twenty of those who shuffled off the quickest after getting a mention, oddly going just months after both of his sidekicks Benny Hill and Spike Milligan.

The Len Ganley Stance will, I imagine, eventually feature quite prominently in Jon B’s HMHB Word Clouds because no other song features the same line repeated quite so many times. But that’s the point, isn’t it? Apparently the “Godfather of Punk” himself (Ganley) described the song as “a beautiful accolade”. Which it is. A link to a decent photo of the man himself doing “The Stance” would be appreciated.

I Left My Heart In Papworth General is another one of those songs on the first album which – to me – hint more strongly than most of things to come. Mr McKenzie appears to be alive and well, unlike Papworth Hospital, which is relocating to Cambridge (that’s all from Look East tonight, we’ll be back at the same time tomorrow). Sir James Wilson Vincent Savile OBE, KCSG appears to be indestructible. Oh, and an alternative version available substitutes “melt down your rings and things” for “melt down your fingerware”, in case you’re worried you’ve been singing the wrong words for twenty-three years.

D’Ye Ken Ted Moult? is, shall we say, not one of the band’s most complex songs, musically or lyrically. However, unlike this one, few other HMHB songs caused their subject to shoot and kill himself within a few months of its release.

Sealclubbing lifts the title and the bit at the end from the poptastic David Essex’s 1982 Me And My Girl (Night-Clubbing). Of course in this day and age the term makes more headlines for (not) being an iPhone app.

My, how everyone laughed at the “hope your plane back home’s a DC-10″ at the time. Of course, those of us of a certain age still do. Albert Hammond Bootleg failed to finish off the artist of that ilk, and indeed, the man himself even went on to produce an equivalently-poptastic son of the same name as if to prove there is no such thing as the curse of HMHB. Stanley Rous barely lasted a year, mind.

I’ve always felt that 1966 And All That is a standout from the earliest days of the band, because in style and sentiment it presages so much of what was to follow. But then again I may be talking nonsense. The song originally comes from The Trumpton Riots EP, which was released a few months after the debut album Back in the DHSS. Later, when CDs became trendy, the album and the EP were combined, which is why nowadays we tend to attribute it to the album. Lev Yashin went to mind the great sticks in the sky within five years of the song being written, but Ferenc Puskas soldiered on for nearly 20 more years, despite the namecheck.

Well, despite Hannu Mikkola and Miriam Stoppard being OAPs, Architecture and Morality, Ted and Alice singularly failed to finish either of them off, although the same can’t be said of no-longer-early-but-now-rather-late Diana. And I can’t find any record of Jane Scott, a business I’m led to believe.