‘The Singing Nun’: the unlikely chart-topper that only Beatlemania could dethrone
Hardcore Beatles enthusiasts might be aware of the duelling debut albums that marked the Fab Four’s arrival in America in 1964. Introducing The Beatles, released on the independent Vee-Jay label, and Meet the Beatles–on Capitol Records–both raced to the top of the charts in February of that year, coinciding with the band’s first US tour and the launch of the British invasion. The two records remained number one and number two in the American pop charts for a solid two months, and as a consequence, the entire nation seemed to collectively forget the album that had held down that top spot on that same chart for a solid ten weeks before Beatlemania began.
Was it an Elvis record? Ray Charles? Maybe the West Side Story soundtrack? Nope. It was The Singing Nun—one of the most unlikely number one records in history and a one-hit wonder with few recognisable comparison points, be it in the 1960s or any other decade.
The Singing Nun wasn’t an ironic rock n’ roll stage name, by the way. It was quite literally describing what was in the tin. The nun in question was Sister Luc-Gabrielle, a 30-year-old sister of the cloth who’d been living for several years in a convent of the Dominican Order outside Brussels, Belgium. Sister Luc, whose birth name was Jeanne-Paule Marie Deckers (‘Jeannine’ for short), had always enjoyed singing and playing guitar during her days as a Girl Guide, and her fellow nuns soon encouraged her to pursue the hobby on a higher level. As luck would have it, this was the early 1960s, just as the folk revival was spreading across the globe, and Sister Luc-Gabrielle’s acoustic stylings—despite her unhip habit—seemed to fit the sonic sensibilities of the moment. She was signed to Phillips Records and cut her debut album in 1963 in a Brussels studio, probably not expecting much beyond the chance to sell some records to visitors at her convent.
Instead, Phillips recognised a broader appeal in the songs and promoted the record heavily, particularly the single ‘Dominique’, which gradually transcended its niche Catholic listenership to become an international mainstream radio hit. It wasn’t just a fleeting novelty blip, either—this little ditty about Saint Dominic, sung in French, became a number one single everywhere from Australia to Argentina, Brazil to South Africa, New Zealand to Canada. While the single topped out at number seven on the UK charts, it managed to conquer America, becoming the Christmas number one of 1963, just a few weeks after the assassination of the country’s first Catholic president, John F Kennedy. The accompanying full-length Singing Nun album also went to the top of the US Billboard through December and January and on into February of 1964.
The bespectacled, unassuming Sister Luc-Gabrielle, who was known by the stage name Sœur Sourire (‘Sister Smile’) in Europe but merely as ‘The Singing Nun’ by Americans, enjoyed her unexpected fame for a while. She even travelled to the States and performed on The Ed Sullivan Show a month before the Beatles famously did the same. Sadly, though, the story takes a darker turn in the years after the Beatles finally bumped ‘Dominique’ and The Singing Nun from their lofty chart heights.
A follow-up album, 1964’s Her Joys, Her Songs, didn’t find an audience in the midst of Beatlemania. More importantly, Sister Luc found that almost all the financial success from her first record had been absorbed either by her record label, Phillips or the Dominican Order itself, which earned most of the royalties as the songs were translated into dozens of other languages.
A last bit of semi-fame came in 1966 when Debbie Reynolds portrayed ‘The Singing Nun’ in a film of the same name. That same year, the real Singing Nun was forced out of her convent over ideological clashes, and while she did release more music—including an interesting song about her newfound support for contraception (‘Glory be to God for the Golden Pill’)—she wasn’t permitted to use either of her stage names on any subsequent albums, ruining any chance she had to reconnect with her old fans.
Jeannine Deckers, aka the ‘Singing Nun’, and her life partner Annie Pécher died together by suicide in 1985, following years of financial and mental health struggles. It was a sad end to a voice that had made an unlikely connection with millions of listeners around the world and one that only the biggest band of all time could compete with in the winter of 1964.
Never Miss A Beat
The Far Out Beatles Newsletter
All the latest stories about The Beatles from the independent voice of culture.
Straight to your inbox.