Marty Wilde was never a huge star when rock music was in its infancy.
But he had a few hit records and fathered the lovely Kim.
He has continued to perform over the years and was foolish enough to begin wearing what looked suspiciously like a toupee many years ago as his quiff began to thin and fade.
I saw him recently on a television programme about the 1950s, and it quickly became apparent that while time and gravity has taken a toll on his face, what I believe to be a wig has retained its unlikely nut-brown lustre.
I kept trying to think who he reminded me of – and the answer arrived with depressing clarity. A minor British pop icon is now the spitting image of Frankie Howerd.