In the 15 years that I’ve had regular online access to British Top 40 radio, the experience has become a lot less different from listening to American CHR than it once was. U.K. radio used to offer a reliable home to dance and R&B music that would never cross over in the U.S. (much of it from U.S. artists), a different set of rock records (from punk/new wave, through Britpop, then a different set of teen punk artists in recent years), and, in particular, odd novelties and quasi-novelties that were too eccentric for U.S. tastes.

The blurring of the lines took place for multiple reasons. U.S. radio became less resistant to international dance hits. Mainstream pop artists began making dance records that worked in both markets—if Rihanna is a dance act, there’s no need to find the next Ultra Naté or Jocelyn Brown (both “Free” and “Somebody Else’s Guy” were U.K. Top 40 hits). Rock product faded on both sides of the Atlantic. A handful of U.K. R&B/Hip-Hop artists—most notably Taio Cruz, Tinie Tempah, and Jay Sean—were able to find a place on U.S. radio, particularly as “Turbo-Pop” averaged out the sound of the U.K.’s rhythmic pop and ours. And the U.K.’s biggest recent superstar, Adele, turned out not to be “too good for mainstream radio” here.

In addition, the U.S. became a little more tolerant to musical camp, whether it was “We No Speak Americano” or Lady Gaga’s early singles, which would, at one time, have had a much easier time becoming hits worldwide than at home. Conversely, British radio began ignoring some of the goofier songs that topped the sales-based U.K. charts, especially in the pre-iTunes era when sales were soft anyway. Just because the Bob The Builder theme was a No. 1 sales hit didn’t mean radio was going to acknowledge it.

So of British trade Music Week’s ten most-played songs this week, only one song isn’t on the radio here—although it’s the No. 1 song, former “X-Factor” contestant Olly Murs’ retro-flavored “Dance With Me Tonight.” There are also a few hits that are in play at U.S. radio, but are bigger in the U.K.: Coldplay’s “Paradise”; Lloyd’s “Dedication To My Ex” (which makes sense in a market where retro-flavored R&B is huge); and Beyoncé’s similarly retro “Love On Top,” just spreading beyond Urban AC in the States now.

Then there’s “Mama Do The Hump.”

It’s already the No. 3 selling record in the U.K. It’s the third and biggest hit for the British rap duo Rizzle Kicks, who have already appeared on hits by Murs, Jessie J, and others. And although U.K. radio might still say no to certain sales hits, “Mama” was up 32-15 on the most recent airplay chart. Starting with the title, it’s definitely one of those “kinda awful, kinda great, and both for the same reason” records that have made U.K. radio so much fun over the years. Sometimes a U.K. hit that initially sounds obnoxious to other American ears becomes too big to deny here—Toni Basil’s “Mickey” and Spice Girls’ “Wannabe” come to mind. Many never got anywhere near American radio.

Not all of the British-only hits fall in this category. From The Jam’s “Going Underground” to Dandy Warhols’ “Bohemian Like You,” there have been a lot of rock hits that were somehow viewed as, well, too underground and bohemian here, but sure sounded like mainstream pop hits around the world. Then there are the British-only hits, often sentimental novelties, that were terrible outright. You are welcome to listen to the 1980 holiday No. 1 “There’s No One Quite Like Grandma” by the St. Winifred’s School Choir, but you can get the idea without torturing yourself.

Somewhere between those extremes are songs like these, listed chronologically. And lest there’s any doubt of my intentions here, they are the reason I seek out British radio:

Mungo Jerry, “Baby Jump” (1971) – There’s none of the skiffle-induced whimsy here of “In The Summertime,” their one American hit. This is chaotic blues boogie, with a couple of lyrics that would keep it off the radio anywhere today, and some that are just goofy, although I am glad they appreciate women with beautiful teeth. In the U.K., both this and “In The Summertime” were No. 1 (and there were two other top 5 hits as well) over a three-year period.

Suzi Quatro, “Can The Can” (1973) – The early ’70s bubble-glam hits of Mike Chapman and Nicky Chinn would fill a column unto themselves; only a relative handful, like the Sweet’s “Little Willy,” escaped to the U.S. charts. Quatro, for her part, had five British top 10s before finally breaking through here with “Stumblin’ In,” while Chapman would appropriate some of her “tough chick” appeal for Pat Benatar’s debut album. “Can The Can” was a U.K. No. 1. In the U.S., it came out twice but couldn’t get past No. 56. Be sure to listen for the insane end-of-the-bridge moment around 2:30.

Boney M, “Rasputin” (1978) – Frank Farian’s pre-Milli Vanilli vehicle offers many bizarre moments to choose from. There were the attempts at disco sociology (“Belfast”), there was the No. 3 hit based on “Polly Wolly Doodle.” (“Hooray, Hooray, It’s A Holi-Holiday”). But this historical themed hit was the most controversial, especially when Boney M toured the U.S.S.R. and weren’t allowed to perform it. After the Milli Vanilli scandal, Farian told Billboard that Boney M had also been a front for his own studio efforts, which was no real surprise, although few in the U.S. noticed or cared. The odd end-of-the-bridge moment comes at about 3:00 here, but there are so many wacky moments, it’s hard to choose. (Much of the intro is appropriated from Cozy Powell’s “Dance With The Devil,” which could itself be on this list.) In Canada, it was one of several major hits for Boney M and remains an Oldies staple. It’s also drifted as far south as Portland, Ore.; (I once heard it on a Saturday night disco show in Seattle.)

Regents, “7 Teen” (1980) – The week I first began being able to hear Top 40 Radio Luxembourg on shortwave radio here, Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick In The Wall” was the record of the week, played every hour at :00. The following week, it was this one-hit-wonder oddity that perched somewhere between bubblegum and new wave. And for those who’ve detected a pattern here, the craziness starts at 1:45 or so and continues all the way through the end of the song.

Toy Dolls, “Nellie The Elephant” (1984) – This punked-up children’s story falls more toward the pure novelty side. The closest Americans ever got to a record like this was Green Jelly’s “Three Little Pigs” nearly a decade later. In this case, the dementia takes place throughout, and in fact the reason you might know this is because of its regular U.S. exposure on “Dr. Demento.”

Scarlet Fantastic, “No Memory” (1987) – It was one of the first hits associated with the not-yet-famous-here Stock/Aitken/Waterman production team. It did get some airplay at Alternative WLIR/WDRE Long Island, N.Y., at the time. And it was also the best Eurythmics/Annie Lennox-flavored record made by somebody other than Annie Lennox, at least until “Dog Days Are Over.” The over-the-top moment here actually comes at the beginning of the bridge (2:10 or so) with similar chanting to “Rasputin.”

The Grid, “Swamp Thing” (1994) – The U.S. success of “We No Speak Americano,” “Stereo Love” and “Mr. Saxobeat” is probably cold comfort to the half-dozen European DJ producers who regularly scored with eccentric, retro-flavored dance novelties for more than 15 years before American radio was willing to accommodate them. This was actually the second in a series following the No. 1 “Doop” by Doop. It was, in turn, inspiration for the Rednex’ “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” which almost made it to American radio.

Babylon Zoo, “Spaceman” (1996) – It became a British hit because of a jeans commercial. On its way to No. 1, it caused the same sort of press backlash as another eccentric U.K. hit, Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s “Love Missle F1-11” (sort of like Billy Idol Goes To Hollywood) had a decade earlier. The available postings of this on the Web excise the song’s unusual intro and ending, which sound surprisingly current. (It’s no surprise that there were dubstep remixes of this later.)

Gala, “Freed From Desire” (1997) – It had exactly the sort of Italo-house disco oddness that separated the U.K and Europe. from the U.S. for many years. It also has the English-as-a-Second-Language feel that characterizes so many great U.K./Europe-only hits. (Why was she singing about her boyfriend’s strombolis?) So darkly earnest that if there had been a second or third record like it, you could have named the genre “Bleak House.”

David Jordan, “Sun Goes Down” (2007) – Fascination with Russian music is another one of the recurring themes in the great/odd hits of the U.K. (Even before “Rasputin,” there was Barry Blue’s 1974 “Hot Shot.”) Jordan’s U.K. success came along just before U.K. R&B acts began their latest wave of U.S. acceptance, and it’s still not out of the question for me that one U.S. spin of this song could still make it a hit here.

Okay, I’ve clearly just scratched the surface here. Please leave a comment below with your favorite U.K. or European oddities.