Middle of the Road’s “Soley Soley”: A Bright Spot in the Gloomy ’70s
Take a moment, won’t you, to drift back to late 1971, when the world felt a bit gray around the edges—wars rumbling, economies wobbling—and yet, here came Middle of the Road with “Soley Soley”, a burst of sunshine that climbed to No. 5 on the UK Singles Chart in December. Across Europe, it shone even brighter, hitting No. 1 in the Netherlands and beyond, a standout from their album Acceleration, released that year on RCA Records. For those of us who fiddled with the knobs on our old radios or watched Sally Carr sway on Top of the Pops, it’s a golden thread to a time when pop could lift you out of the doldrums—a song that didn’t need to be profound to feel like a friend, its million-plus sales a testament to how much we needed its light.
The story of “Soley Soley” is a tale of wanderlust and happy accidents. Middle of the Road, a Scottish quartet—Sally Carr, Ken Andrew, Ian McCredie, and Eric McCredie—had fled Glasgow’s quiet for Italy’s promise in 1970, morphing from Latin-tinged Las Caracas into Europop pioneers. In Spain, they crossed paths with Fernando Arbex, a songwriter who handed them this breezy ditty. Recorded as a demo in a sun-drenched studio, it was shipped to RCA in Rome for polish, then launched in the Netherlands in August ’71 before charming the UK by November. Carr’s honeyed voice, paired with a vibraphone’s ripple, turned Arbex’s simple lyrics into a postcard from somewhere warmer—a B-side, “To Remind Me,” penned by the band and Lally Stott, fading into the glow of its flip. It was their third million-seller, a streak that made them ABBA’s predecessors in Europop’s glittery march.
At its heart, “Soley Soley” is a lover’s sigh of relief—“Just a little bit lonely, just a little bit sad,” Carr sings, her tone lifting as “until you came back” promises joy. It’s about reunion, a plea to “lay by my side” and “laze in the sand,” the mysterious “Soley” a joyful chant—maybe “soleil,” French for sun, or just a playful sound to dance to. For us who’ve seen decades pass, it’s the echo of a ’71 winter—the hum of a heater in a drafty flat, the flicker of a black-and-white set, the thrill of a snow day when the radio played something warm. It’s not about solving life’s riddles; it’s about feeling the sun break through, if only for three minutes.
This was Middle of the Road before the fade—pre-ABBA Europop royalty, their harmonies a bridge from folk to glam. “Soley Soley” lingered, a live version popping up in 2017 from Berlin’s Waldbühne, proof it still sparkles. For us, it’s a whiff of Brut cologne, the rustle of a maxi dress, the clink of a milk bottle on the doorstep as we hummed along, dreaming of beaches we’d never seen. It’s the sound of a generation that craved escape—and found it in a song that didn’t ask much, just gave. So, unearth that old single, let the needle drop, and bask in it again—a little light from a time when we all needed some.