It all started with Marc Bolan and T. Rex. No-one else. Before the boy with the corkscrew hair I had no idea what pop meant. I thought it was the James Last Non Stop Dancing LP’s my Dad played, or Bridge Over Troubled Water, or even his Dylan Greatest Hits. Not that I was in the least bit interested, what with honing my football skills, racing my bike and my first life defining moment; the sudden, mind boggling realisation that girls were sugar and spice and all things nice.

   Of course, when you’re ten years old your world and mindset can change a hundred times a day for no apparent reason and just a year later, as if by magic, pop was everything. Suddenly it was everywhere, mainlined into my ears and out through my dancing feet, from the radio, Top Of The Pops and those Music For Pleasure label, sound-a-like albums adorned with scantily dressed girls in sporty scenarios.

   Amidst all the novelty singles and bubblegum I was losing myself in like ‘Me And You And A Dog Named Boo’ and ‘When You Are A King’, I couldn’t help but notice a song that was instantly more alluring and magical. Hearing T. Rex’s ‘Get It On’ for the first time in July 1971, before I even knew what Bolan looked like, was my key to the secret mysteries of pop power and rock’n’roll glamour. Watching him on Top Of The Pops a week later, the glitter sparkling beneath his eyes, was even more mind blowing and a second life defining moment.

   Luckily for me, Marc Bolan, Bowie and glam arrived at just the right time, all set in motion by the snappy foot tapper with an electric, neo-Rockabilly groove that was ‘Ride A White Swan’. Pop had been screaming out for something new to galvanise a generation sick to death of the crooked myths of the sixties and The Beatles. Initially Bolan was at its heart, banging out a brilliant new teen anthem every couple of months; ‘Hot Love’, Get It On’, ‘Jeepster’, ‘Telegram Sam’, ‘Metal Guru’, ‘Children Of The Revolution’, ‘Solid Gold Easy Action’ and greatest of them all, ‘Twentieth Century Boy’, all ripe and ready for pre-pubescent kids waiting for their own teenage dream. Even now it’s impossible not to love them, not to get suckered in by their deceptively sweet simplicity and Bolan’s innocent boogaloo.

   More often than not T. Rex’s importance to the seventies generation has been overlooked, largely I suspect because of the continued power and presence of Bowie that incredibly has grown even greater since his death. And yet, without Bolan’s mini masterpieces it could be argued that we may never have found Bowie in the first place. Or maybe it really was like Bolan claimed all along; that he did all the work and kicked in all the doors only for Bowie to saunter in and take all the credibility.

   Certainly, for those first few years of the seventies Bolan was incredible on all of his singles and the Electric Warrior and The Slider albums, but from 1973’s Tanx on he began to slip. Finding it impossible to evolve mentally or sonically he became increasingly porky and coked to the gills, lost in the depths of paranoia, despairing at his own inability to transcend the genre that had so defined him. By then, like all the other glam kids, he had lost me too as I turned away for darker, more thrilling kicks Bolan somehow too frivolous and one dimensional. In truth, having reached the grand old age of thirteen I had simply outgrown him, much preferring Bowies Aladdin Sane and Roxy’s For Your Pleasure to Tanx’s tall tales of tenement lady’s, factory hen’s and beggar boys. Unfortunately it is the very nature of the pop phenomenon that all pop stars eventually fade away. And yet, as arrogant as ever, Bolan struggled to believe that the same concept also applied to him.

   Bizarrely, in the last years of his life he was almost saved by television, initially via Mike Mansfield’s infamous Supersonic and then through his own kiddie pop show Marc. Following the release of Dandy in the Underworld, a dazzling collection of vintage, back to basic songs and his best since The Slider, he stirred himself enough to seize the moment one last time. Watching him was still mesmerising. On the one hand it all seemed horribly undignified but on the other, it defined what had been so great about him in the first place; his ability simply to revel in the evanescent charisma of pop stardom.

   The series, presented by a slimmed down Bolan reminiscent of the early glitter days, managed to capture the prevailing zeitgeist by highlighting some of the up and coming newcomers from the new wave side of punk such as The Jam, Generation X, Radio Stars and The Boomtown Rats. Interspersed with performances from Bolan and T. Rex, although these performances were clearly lip synced, the success of the early episodes prompted plans for a second series before the first had run its course.   

   The glam rocker who had been an influence on the punk generation had that influence returned, which seemed to revive not only his flagging career but his drive, the simply built, basic rock’n’roll that he that he loved suddenly becoming popular again, albeit in its most ragged and shouty form. Ironically, his last guest and the last performance of that series was his old friend and nemesis David Bowie, but the two had barely started performing when Bolan tripped over a wire and toppled off the stage.

   Could there really have been a more painfully symbolic end to the Electric Warrior's career? He died just nine days later, the mini being driven by his girlfriend Gloria Jones smashing into a tree in Barnes, south west London on 16th September 1977. Killed instantly, Bolan was just two weeks short of his thirtieth birthday, still convinced that he would be nothing more than a footnote in pop history. It’s good to know that he needn’t have worried on that score. As far as every seventies teen was concerned, he had already written his own chapter.

 

01. Ride A White Swan (Side October 1970)

02. Diamond Meadows (T.Rex LP December 1970)

03. Hot Love (A Side February 1971)

04. Get It On (A Side July 1971)

05. Mambo Sun (Electric Warrior LP September 1971)

06. Cosmic Dancer (Electric Warrior LP September 1971)

07. Jeepster (Electric Warrior LP September 1971)

08. The Motivator (Electric Warrior LP September 1971)

09. Life’s A Gas (Electric Warrior LP September 1971)

10. Telegram Sam (A Side January 1972)

11. Baby Strange (B Side January 1972)

12. Metal Guru (A Side May 1972)

13. The Slider (The Slider LP July 1972)

14. Baby Boomerang (The Slider LP July 1972)

15. Ballroom Of Mars (The Slider LP July 1972)

16. Children Of The Revolution (A Side September 1972)

17. Born To Boogie (B Side December 1972)

18. Twentieth Century Boy (A Side March 1973)

19. Broken Hearted Blues (Tanx LP March 1973)

20. Left Hand Luke (Tanx LP March 1973)

21. Teenage Dream (A Side February 1974)

22 Change (Zinc Alloy LP March 1974)

23. The Leopards (Zinc Alloy LP March 1974)

24. Light Of Love (A Side July 1974)

25. Precious Star (Bolan’s Zip Gun LP February 1975)

26. New York City (A Side July 1975)

27. Dawn Storm (Futuristic Dragon LP February 1976)

28. London Boys (A Side February 1976)

29. I Love To Boogie (A Side June 1976)

30. Dandy In The Underworld (Dandy In The Underworld LP March 1977)