And now, dear readers, we have reached the end of 1971; some
may rue this, but some may not, knowing full well what is to come. The brown suede maxi-skirtedness of this
year, loved by some, is about to be replaced by a new year, and to see us into
this different time is…T. Rex. Yes, they
started out ’71 and here they are to finish it, with a boogie so simple and
even off-handed that the band didn’t want it put out as a single, didn’t even
considerate single material, but the label felt otherwise, mainly because by
this time T. Rex were huge. I cannot even begin to imagine the legions of
kids and pre-teens who latched on to T.Rex, real
fans, ones who were not about to be conned into thinking anyone else really
mattered. T.Rex inspired them, many of
them becoming musicians as a result, all going their very different paths but
all starting here.
T. Rex by this time, lest we forget, had already had two
number one singles, a number one album with Electric Warrior , and one of those singles was even a hit
in the US (I grew up knowing it as “Bang A Gong”); all this with a style that went
right back to the essence of what rock ‘n’ roll was about – cars, girls,
boogie with an extra added sense that Bolan was not quite like everyone else.
Not superhuman, just different, glamorous – as glamorous as the vampire
he is at the end of this song, wanting to “Ssssssss-suck ya!” (apply own
metaphor of your choice).
But the beat for me is the primal thing – just off-kilter,
not quite the Bo Diddley beat but not that far away from the clave either; a
seductive waltz of sorts, a kind of roughness that sounds paradoxically smooth
as well, due to the long notes both sung and played in the song*. The total effect is a knockout: Bolan could be singing anything here and it
would be a smash, but his lyrics are the icing – from the title on down. The elegance of “I’ll call you jaguar if I
may be so bold” – (Bolan considered this song to be “very funky” and a step
above general love song lyrics**) must have had some effect as well, if only to
show that rock/pop did not have to be
predictable, clichéd, generic. The
self-consciousness that rock/pop has about itself now – one that will be
dramatized in this blog in the coming year – is best dealt with by just making
good music, and Bolan was writing songs that he hoped would last.
Number two hits are often in opposition to the number ones,
and this one is a fine example, for many reasons. Benny Hill had the Christmas number one with
a song that was silly and full of double meanings (as you’d expect) – strictly for
the kids, kids too young to need or understand the grooviness of T.Rex, the
importance of Bolan’s hair, the glamor.
Hill went right for the obvious, Bolan took the obvious and made it
fresh, made it new.
Rock ’n’ roll has lasted long enough to be considered its own
art form; regular pop, for lack of a better term, continues right alongside the
fall-and-rise drama to come, as rock increasingly is albums-only stuff and pop,
which, if I can put it this way, is the essence of the whole thing, (the
beating heart, as Huey Lewis sort-of sings later) has to figure out what the
hell to do with itself. T.Rex stand as
the inspiration to not just another generation but to other musicians and
songwriters, who figure this glamor thing doesn’t just belong to elves, but
belongs to everyone. The battle coming up is between those who rue
the past and those too busy looking for a new costume to think about anything
else; in the meantime, T.Rex remind everyone just what it is they are fighting
about, in the first place.
Next up: when in
doubt, get your own tv show.
*It is more than possible that he picked up some of this from
the Os Mutantes hit “A
Minha Menina”; Bolan spent a lot of time and money buying and
listening to records, when he wasn’t busy writing and recording his own.
**Bolan goes back to Gene Vincent, as he says, for “The wild
winds blow/upon your cheek/the way you flip your hip/always leaves me weak.”
No comments:
Post a Comment