1. Flintlock
The over-coiffed resident musical turn on Thames TV's alleged comedy series "You Must Be Joking", who boasted none other than erstwhile Tomorrow Person Mike Holloway on drums. In addition to band originals like 'Sea of Flames', their repertoire included hilariously pedestrian covers of such highly regarded classics as 'Rikki Don't Lose That Number', 'A Whiter Shade Of Pale' and a strangely truncated 'She's Leaving Home'. Flintlock eventually decided to call it a day after witnessing the notorious Sex Pistols/Bill Grundy interview.

2. Candlewick Green
Subtly altering their Trumptonshire-influenced name to avoid getting on the BBC's wick, their one moment of chart glory came in 1973 with 'Who Do You Think You Are?'. Later releases including 'The Last Bus Home' failed to repeat this success, and after a last-ditch change of name to 'Trampton' they disappeared from view. Possibly.

3. Middle of the Road
Never was a band so aptly named, with the pitiful 'Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep' still standing as a serious contendor for the honour of worst single of all time. The samba-inflected follow-up 'Soley Soley' wasn't bad, and vocalist Sally Carr cut a droolsome figure in her skinny pink t-shirts and leather hotpants, but it's still not enough to redeem them. I can't get that bloody song out of my head now...

4. Rainbow Cottage
They came from Wigan. They had one minor hit. They performed the "Cloppa Castle" theme. No-one knows any more about them, but the last fact alone is worthy of a knighthood.

5. Pilot
Having largely failed in their late attempts to jump the psychedelia bandwagon, Pilot condensed their Beatlesque melodies into one memorable single, 'January' (or, as they pronounced it, 'Jan-you-wah-ree'), which gave them their one and only chart-topper. The band lacked sufficient songs to cash in on subsequent months, and obscurity beckoned once more.

6. The Wombles
Litter collecting television puppets, and, under the guidance of opportunistic producer Mike Batt, the top selling act of 1975. True!

7. Jigsaw
More failed psychedelians, who abandoned the idea of having their album sleeves apparently showing the kids from the Start-Rite shoes logo processing to Mecca, and instead welded dramatic strings to a twee flowery pop song called 'Sky High'. And yes, you guessed it, they were rewarded with their only significant hit. No evidence of mime artists or pterodactyls in the line-up, either.

8. Barry Blue
Plying a neat fusion of Glam Rock and soul, the possibly Tarantino-inspiring Mr Blue scored two above average hits with 'Dancing on a Saturday Night' and 'Do You Wanna Dance?', but curiously enough he never seemed to smile when there was a camera around. Nothing to do with Barry White, as far as we know.

9. Arrows
Essentially the Ash of the 1970s, Arrows were a rockin' trio of teens who owned Elvis Presley's jacket or something, and managed to star in their own TV show despite not having any real hit singles to speak of. However, by a strange twist of fate, all three later became millionaires thanks to one of their old b-sides: a certain 'I Love Rock'n'Roll'...

10. Sailor
Sailor's vocalist struck convincing heart-throb poses when appearing on television. Sailor's drummer and two (yes, two) synth players just gooned around. Can you figure out why, despite the unquestionable brilliance of 'Glass of Champagne', they didn't trouble the charts for too long?

11. Hello
Mainstays of Mike Mansfield's pop show "Supersonic", participants in a major modelling assignment, and architects of the quintessential glam-rock disc 'New York Groove'. And all this despite sporting some of the silliest haircuts known to man.

12. Lieutenant Pigeon
The most unlikely band ever, hammering out instrumental versions of old music-hall numbers with the assistance of a pensioner on piano. Nevertheless, 'Mouldy Old Dough' topped the charts in 1971. This was presumably due to thousands of acid casualty hippies mistaking the band's minimal style for krautrock leanings, and the pension-drawing pianist for a freaky 'far out' hallucination.

13. Chicory Tip
The men responsible for such effervescent slices of early synth-pop as 'Son of My Father' and 'What's Your Name?', Chicory Tip only ever seemed to have two aims in life: firstly to make sure that their lyrics were as unintelligible as possible, and secondly to look completely ridiculous.

14. Pickettywitch
Polly Brown, who despite the urban legends does not have an allergy to 'modern things', was the witchcraft-obsessed, glitter-eyed vocalist on 'That Same Old Feeling', which for many remains the definitive 1970s pop artefact, and its lesser-known follow-up 'Sad Old Kinda Movie'. 'That Same Old Feeling', incidentally, was clearly seperated at birth from The Spice Girls' 'Stop'.

15. The Bay City Rollers
Sex, drugs, scandal, suicide bids, Granada TV, HR PufnStuf... the Rollers' story is, believe it or not, the ultimate in rock'n'roll debauchery. "Hammer of the Gods"? Never heard of it. .