When the fantasy comedy series Glam Metal Detectives (“a new TV comic!”) was first broadcast on BBC Two in 1995 (the only time it was seen on mainstream television in the UK), a continuity announcer cautioned us that soon, we’d all be humming or singing it. “It” was just about the only song performed by the eponymous rock band (“everybody up/everybody down”) and they were right. It’s a short bit catchy little ditty that we were going to be hearing a lot of over the following seven weeks. And sadly, it was about the only thing in this mish-mash of sketches and skits that actually proved memorable (and that’s hardly surprising as it was co-written by Jeff Beck, Lol Crème, his son Lalo and Trevor Horn who also produced).

Created by Peter Richardson of the Comic Strip fame (he’d been the drummer in another comedy rock band, Bad News), it plays a little like The Fast Show which had started a year earlier and the earlier KYTV (1989-1993), a collection of continuing vignettes, fake adverts, sketches and an ongoing storyline segment. That continuing storyline was that of the Glam Metal Detectives themselves (among them Doon Mackichan, Phil Cornwell, Sara Stockbridge and Gary Beadle), “saving the planet’s ecology with your top-hit records.” They battle evil media mogul Royston Brocade (Mac McDonald), have members turned into robots, become addicted to a new fizzy drink, encounter witches and all manner of other strange goings on.

Other segments include the black and white Betty’s Mad Dash, a spoof of 1920s adventure and action films; Bloodsports, a television series in which stereotypical commentators comment on a series of violent events; in The Big Me, chat show host Morag lacks any interest in her guests and makes everything about herself; The Price of Love is a game show dedicated to ruining relationships; Colin Corleone is a delusional young man who believes himself to be a Sicilian gangster; and there are plentiful spoof adverts (the one for tiny local businesses, shot on the lowest of budget, are very good, brief glimpses of cheapo television shows and the occasional trailer. All of this is presented as though we’re hoping through various channels, alighting on something vaguely interesting until we move on to the next item.

Where KYTV and to an even greater extent The Fast Show clicked with the public, Glam Metal Detectives was less successful and today the series is barely remembered at all. And it’s not surprising really. Some of it is wonderfully silly (Mick Jagger as Hamlet and The Pretenders singer Chrissie Hynde turning up as Bob Dylan) and it captures the cheesy, tacky, low budget world of early British cable television perfectly, but it’s all a bit scrappy and not everything works as well as it should. One recurring character is Popeye the Sailor Man as a tough-talking New York Cop, a real head-scratcher of a development that never once even so much as raised a smile. Betty’s Mad Dash outstays its welcome after only a couple of outings and there’s not nearly enough of the Glam Metal Detectives themselves.

The annoyingly catchy theme song, Everybody Up! was released as a single in March 1995 and perhaps understandably cracked the UK Top 40, leading the Detectives to the Top of the Pops studio for a one off “live” performance and just about getting away with the repeated and very easy to misinterpret (deliberately so) cry of “funk ‘n’ justice!”. Despite the lack of noticeable material from the band, a soundtrack CD was also released containing covers of songs by Slade (Cum on Feel the Noize), Johnny Kidd and the Pirates (Shaking All Over) and The Osmonds (Crazy Horses) among others.

Glam Metal Detectives feels like a show that could have done with a bit of script editing, a dissenting voice “to say “no, this isn’t working.” More of the Detectives and less of the minor supporting characters would have gone down well but as it stands, it’s just far too patchy, if willing to try new things and its ambition is there for all to see (terrible comedian Willy Witless (Cornwell) becomes increasingly popular throughout the series, eventually apparently co-producing the show according to the spoof end credits). But with so many sketches falling flat, there was barely enough material here to sustain a single series and so its cancellation should have come as no surprise to anyone. The BBC seemed to have had high hopes for it, releasing the series on VHS and even a one-off magazine, complete with comic strip, from the UK wing of Marvel Comics that sells for insane money today.

But it was all for nought. There are some who remember it, some more fondly than others, but it had none of the impact of other contemporary television comedies and today turns up only in fuzzy copies on YouTube. It’s fitfully funny, but none of its sketches manage to sustain themselves over the course of the seven episodes, many running out of steam long before the series sputtered to an end. The theme tune is still a classic of its kind though.