This comes from a magazine put out by Big Stir Records, a small California
based label. This is from issue #5, March 2021.
I hadn't read this when I started to type it all out. Now that I have read it
I'm not sure what to think of it. The author was a pre-teen during the period
he (or she, not clear) is writing about and very much comes off as the
self-described 'confused', 'naive', 'starstruck child'. I mean, I love Marc,
but, really, 'the greatest lyricist of the twentieth century'?
Anyway, here it is.
Al
**********************************
Mad About T. Rex by LMNOP (aka dONW7)
I saw T. Rex play live right after The Slider was released. The album was an
instant huge hit in Great Britain but in the United State it was mainly heard
only on college radio stations. I was very lucky to see Bolan play at this
point in his career. To be honest, it wasn't his best performance. But being
the lost and dysfunctional spoiled brat that I was, at the time it was like
being near God.
Unlike most who were hooked by the more popular albums (Electric Warrior, The
Slider, and Tanx), it was the fourth Tyrannosaurus Rex album that had me
forever hooked. I found Beard Of Stars in the cheapie bins at Zayre's (a
discount department store in the south). The album was puzzling and strange at
first. But the more I listened, the more it grew on me. The music...and
particularly the lyrics...were mesmerizing. Something about the music was
ultimately intoxicating.
There were other bands and artists I loved, of course. But Marc Bolan reigned
supreme. He had managed to become hugely popular (at least in Europe) while at
the same time composing credible songs with some of the strangest lyrics ever.
He was light years beyond all the other commercial pop/rock artists at the
time. Like all the teenagers in Great Britain, I genuinely wanted to be Marc
Bolan. There was no one who could match his charisma and magnetic personality.
He was literate. He was hilarious. He was cerebral. And the music he made
worked its way deep into my consciousness.
Junior high school was the most horrible period of my life. The other kids at
school hated me. And I hated me too, because I was a confused little freak.
Unfortunately, the only people I could relate to at that time were songwriters.
Over time Marc Bolan became more than just a favorite musician, though. He
became what I needed most: A role model and another individual whose thoughts
and words made compete sense to me. I was hypnotized by his lyrics.
Big News
When I heard that T. Rex were scheduled to play in Atlanta, I could not believe
it. It was all I could think and talk about. I begged and begged my parents
and they finally agreed to let me go. They were kind enough to drive me to and
from the auditorium - surely a major headache for them. Considering the fact
that the place was in a questionable part of town (i.e., trashy and dangerous),
it seems amazing now that they even let me go. I tried to get them to take me
to the hotel where he was staying first so I could tell him how much I admired
his work. I wanted to apologize to him that so many people in the United
States just didn't 'get' what he was doing. (Even at that tender young age I
was a budding music snob.). They didn't take me to the hotel, which was for the
best. If I had been able to speak with him, I would have come off like some
ridiculous starstruck child out in the middle of nowhere.
Showtime
Once inside the Municipal Auditorium (a dirty old depressing concert hall), I
quickly realized that I was the youngest person there. It was nothing like
Great Britain where Marc Bolan had hoards of teenagers chasing him everywhere
he went. The auditorium was only about half full and people seemed generally
lethargic about the event. Almost all of the attendees were drugged out adult
hippies who weren't quite ready for Marc's flamboyant sound and style. Whoever
selected the opening act made an awful choice. The opening act was...The
Doobie Brothers (barf). Their music was horrible and they were horrible. It
was ultimately sickening watching the audience oooh and aaah over The Doobie
Boobies. They were second-rate crap. And they didn't even belong on the same
stage as Marc Bolan. Finally they stopped playing. The extremely positive
audience reaction made me want to vomit. How in the world could all those
people enjoy that awful mindless shit so much?
A half-full auditorium. A terrible opening band. Stoned out hippies
everywhere. It was a huge change from the sold out concerts overseas playing
for screaming teenagers. And I'm sure it must have been disappointing for
Marc. He seemed kind of tired and worn out and like he was just going through
the motions. The sound was terrible, probably because the band was at the
mercy of the house soundman. The concert was good but not great. But none of
this really mattered because it was still an unforgettable life-changing
experience.
Encore
T. Rex only played for about 40 minutes. As they left the stage everyone in
the audience began simultaneously yelling for them to play 'Rip Off'. That was
one of my favorite songs from Electric Warrior too. So I stood on my chair and
began yelling 'Rip Off' along with everyone else . We all wanted an encore.
The band did not come back onstage. The show was over. After a few minutes,
everyone left. There was a peculiar feeling of unease and disappointment in
the air that I did not understand. What was confusing to me as how angry the
hippies seemed to be at the end. I guess they all really wanted to hear 'Rip
Off' and he didn't play that one. It was a good song, but certainly not his
best.
Fast Forward
Several years later something caused a flashing white light to suddenly go off
in my head. I forgot what triggered it, but for some reason I had a MAJOR
REALIZATION.
Those hippies weren't yelling for Marc to play 'Rip Off'. They were mad as
Hell because the band only played for 40 minutes. Duh...!
Being so young and naive, I didn't know what the words meant. So it seems
absurd now that Marc Bolan's youngest and most devoted fan in Atlanta was
yelling right along with all those angry hippies. How could I have been so
dumb! Sheesh, I'm sorry Marc. I'm sorry I was so young and stupid.
Change, Change, Change
I did see T. Rex play once more a few years later as the opening act for Three
Dog Night (the pairing was all wrong...AGAIN). But this concert was a major
disappointment even for me because by that time Marc had morphed into
something completely different and forgettable. Alcohol and substance abuse
combined with an out-of-control ego had killed off the charisma and magic. He
had fired his original band members Mickey Finn, Steve Currie, and Bill
Legend...all of whom were so crucial to his sound. He had dumped his wife June
Child who was in many ways responsible for his kickass look and style. And he
had also dumped his producer Tony Visconti, who was hugely responsible for his
sound ands ultimate financial success. Sadly at that point arc Bolan seemed
just like everyone else. Once the coolest of the cool, by that time he had
transformed into a generic phony show off. Thankfully near the end of his life
he was getting his act together again. But by then it was too late. In
a sudden instant he was gone forever.
Than And Now
Unike so many artists from the 1970s whose sound is dated and irrelevant,
Marc's music has held up extremely well. The songs from his peak years
continue to sound fresh and totally relevant. The first four Tyrannosaurus Rex
albums and the first four T. Rex albums still sound as incredible and
infectious today as when they were first released.
Because he never could conquer the United States when he was alive I think Marc
Feld (his real name) would be very happy to see how many new and credible
up-coming American bands and artists in the twenty-first century now proudly
cite him as one off their main influences. It seems ironic that so many music
journalists initially described his music as disposable pop.
While Bolan is mainly known for his music and the way he looked, what we always
admire most are the lyrics. For several years, Marc was the ultimate wielder
of words. His lyrics were works of art. Pure intellectual poetry. Unusual.
Sensitive. Puzzling. Rather than focusing on the meaning in so many
instances, he placed more emphasis on the way words sounded together.
Marc Bolan was far more than just another music celebrity. He was the greatest
lyricist of the twentieth century.
