It’s late. The city outside my window is hushed, illuminated by the cold, neon glow of a bar sign across the street. I’m sitting in my favorite vintage armchair, the leather cracked just so, and the needle has just dropped on a scuffed 45. The sound that spills out—a vibrant, almost aggressive jangle—is immediate, a jolt of pure, primary-color energy that slices through the quiet. This isn’t just a record; it’s a photograph of 1967, one that captures the moment an English beat group, presumed by many to be washed up, found a second, unexpected life.
The piece of music is, of course, The Tremeloes’ triumphant comeback single, “Here Comes My Baby.”
It’s a song so universally bright, so relentlessly up, that it’s easy to overlook the bittersweet pill at its center. This duality is its genius. The history itself is a study in serendipity and sharp A&R. The song was penned by a young, emerging folk-pop troubadour named Cat Stevens, who included his own more subdued, jazzy-inflected version on his debut album, Matthew and Son, released in March 1967. But it was The Tremeloes who got to the market first. Released in January 1967, their version became the definitive international smash, marking a crucial pivot for the group.
The Tremeloes had once been Brian Poole and The Tremeloes, successful players in the early British Invasion. But when Poole departed in 1966, the music press largely wrote the remaining members—Rick Westwood, Alan Blakley, Dave Munden, and new bassist Chip Hawkes—off as a relic. Their signing to CBS Records and the decision to tackle this Cat Stevens composition, guided by producer Mike Smith, wasn’t just a single release; it was a desperate, brilliant reinvention. It established them as a modern, pop-rock quartet ready for the emerging “sunshine pop” era.
🎸 The Anatomy of the Jangle: Sound and Arrangement
The sound of the record is instantly arresting, engineered for maximum impact on a small transistor radio or a mid-range home audio system. The sonic profile is clean, punchy, and utterly dynamic. It begins with a four-beat count-off, a stark, almost garage-band signal that cuts the air, before the full band explodes.
The core of the arrangement is a driving, deceptively simple rhythm section. Dave Munden’s drums are tight, with a quick, hard attack on the snare and a steady, almost militaristic kick drum that locks the listener in. Len Hawkes’s bass is fat and forward in the mix, a melodic pulse that grounds the track’s high-frequency sparkle. The overall texture is one of joyous, almost chaotic energy, a stark contrast to the original’s melancholic lilt.
The guitars are the undisputed stars of this arrangement. Alan Blakley’s rhythm guitar is a frantic churn, providing the incessant forward momentum. Rick Westwood’s lead guitar parts are sharp, bright bursts of melody and counterpoint. Listen closely to the brief, perfect solo: it’s not an indulgent showcase but a high-register hook, a melodic echo that rings out with just enough spring reverb to give it air without losing definition. It’s an object lesson in pop economy.
“The way The Tremeloes take a heartbreaking lyric and dress it in a tuxedo of pure, unadulterated pop bliss is a masterclass in emotional misdirection.”
And then there are the harmonies. The group’s collective vocal blend—clean, close-miked, and often doubled—delivers the lyric with an almost giddy enthusiasm. Chip Hawkes’s lead vocal has an earnest, slightly rough timbre that sells the story of the narrator watching his love interest walk by with another man. The vocal phrasing on the chorus, “Here comes my baby, here she comes now,” is delivered with such an infectious surge that it sounds like a celebration, not a lament. This is where the magic, and the central contrast, lies: the upbeat tempo and cheerful delivery completely camouflage the pain of unrequited love.
🎹 The Garnish of Pop Perfection: Melody and Key Details
The song’s three-chord structure (mostly G-C-D in the key of G, an absolute gift for anyone attempting guitar lessons) is the backbone, but it’s the unexpected additions that elevate it from a simple beat track to an international hit. Listen for the subtle but essential textural details. A faint, almost chime-like piano part occasionally shadows the rhythm, adding a splash of high-end sweetness without ever hogging the spotlight.
The iconic whistled instrumental break is, for many, the song’s signature moment. It’s a moment of effortless, sunny charm—a musical shrug of resignation that translates the internal, lonely sigh of the original lyric into an external, whistling-past-the-graveyard public display. It is, frankly, the perfect sound of a sunny day with a cloudy heart. It’s a genius piece of pop arranging by Mike Smith, taking a folk song and injecting it with a sense of carefree, contemporary rock flair.
The single soared to the upper echelons of the charts in both the UK and the US, proving that The Tremeloes were not merely survivors, but masters of the modern pop landscape. It was, in many ways, the foundation for their next and arguably biggest success, “Silence is Golden.” “Here Comes My Baby” defined their new identity: sharp, radio-ready, and effortlessly catchy.
The song is a brilliant microcosm of the mid-to-late sixties—a period where the raw energy of the early beat boom began to meld with the increasing sophistication of pop production, crafting songs that were emotionally complex but structurally accessible. It is a timeless, effervescent piece of music, a perfect snapshot of bittersweet joy.
🎧 Listening Recommendations: The Sound of Bittersweet Pop
- Cat Stevens – “Here Comes My Baby” (Original Version): To hear the melancholy, jazzy-lounge sadness that The Tremeloes erased with their exuberance.
- The Mamas & The Papas – “Dedicated to the One I Love”: Shares the same wistful, almost cinematic blend of major-key harmonies over a subject of romantic longing.
- The Cowsills – “The Rain, The Park & Other Things”: Epitomizes the “sunshine pop” sound with its major-key orchestral swell and family harmonies.
- The Turtles – “Happy Together”: Captures a similar feeling of breathless, driving pop energy applied to a simple, romantic theme.
- The Foundations – “Baby, Now That I’ve Found You”: Features a similar brassy, upbeat arrangement style for an English group covering an emotionally straightforward pop declaration.