Nostalgia remains the same, David Belcher finds as he catches up with

the Rubettes.

IT was the elongated falsetto shriek that lured you in, I think. Two

parts Frankie Valli to one part street-corner newspaper vendor.

Eeeee-yaaarrr ooo-arr-arr-arr-ee-arr dooby doo-waaa-ee-aaaarrrr. The

rest of the lyrics possessed a certain primal naffness, too.

How did the rest of the song go? Come on, baby, do the jukebox jive.

Just like they did in nineteen sixty-five.

Ah yes, Juke Box Jive by the Rubettes. Right in there alongside

Showaddywaddy at the start of the great British pop nostalgia boom.

Lastingly lamenting the demise of nineteen sixty-five in

nineteen-seventy-five. And in nineteen eighty-five. And, well . . . this

year as well, actually.

Aye, it's a funny old game, pop. As if to underline the fact that

nostalgia remains what it used to be, the Rubettes will tonight be

inviting Edinburgh folk to do it like they did in nineteen sixty-five,

again, in nineteen ninety-five.

Modest head-Rubette Alan Williams never thought it would last for 20

years. He and his cohorts weren't even a proper band at the time they

recorded their first big hit, Sugar Baby Love.

''We were a clique of sessions musicians, a studio rhythm section

who'd had success by playing on No 1 hits like Carl Douglas's Kung Fu

Fighting, Lynsey de Paul's Sugar Me, and Dancing On A Saturday Night by

Barry Blue. We recorded Sugar Baby Love as a demo for other artists to

listen to, and thankfully for us no-one wanted it.''

The Rubettes' chart dominance was brief, the band having been forced

into dormancy between 1979 and 1984, but they are now on their third

major UK tour during the past five years, and they have continued to do

well on the continental nostalgia circuit. Nostalgia -- is it hard to

accept that your future resides in the past?

''We're simply happy still to be in the music business at this mature

stage in our lives, still touring, still making records. If we're not

actual pop stars, we're making a living in music -- and that was my big

ambition when I started.

''But just yesterday our current British single, Believe In You, with

a French singer, Nathalie L'Hermitte, went into the British country

radio chart at 20, so we might have a surprise hit on our hands out of

nowhere. And after having recorded nothing new for a while, we've an

album, Making Love In The Rain, released next week on the label that I

run, Dice.''

It makes the bad times worthwhile. Giving up the pop high life to

start a not wholly successful business making and designing exhibition

stands in his Essex homelands. Thankfully, Alan managed to hang on to

the most tangible reward from his top 10 days: his own plane, which he

pilots himself.

''I've a Piper Aztec twin-engined six-seater. We'll be flying to

Scotland in it. We're all about five minutes from Southend airport so

it's been handy lately for nipping over to do daytime TV stuff in Europe

and then getting back for gigs in the evening.''

Sounds better than being a journalist, which is what the Rubettes'

original guitarist now is, on a local newspaper in Burnley. Their first

drummer is a Hare Krishna devotee. Otherwise, the same Rubettes seem

likely to be doing the jukebox jive in two thousand and twenty-five.

All together now: Eeeee-yaaarrr ooo-arr-arr-arr-ee-arr dooby

doo-waaa-ee-aaaarrrr.

* The Rubettes appear tonight in Edinburgh's Usher Hall, assisted by

vintage popsters the Tremeloes, Mungo Jerry, and Marmalade. Three weeks

later, the tour wends its way back to Scotland with gigs in Perth City

Hall (February 27), Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall (February 28), and

Aberdeen's Capitol Theatre (March 1).