Bolan...

I listened to Marc Bolan today... the 'essential' collection in fact.  A typical name for a greatest hits collection but for once the word 'essential' has been used accurately.  For me it really is necessary to go back to Bolan and listen to those songs again once in a while.


I remember seeing him for the first time - on a video I used to have of old Glam Rock performances from Top of the Pops.  The song was 'Jeepster' (still one of my favourites) and he was quite an inspiring sight to me.  So pretty, with glitter on his cheekbones and his 'corkscrew' hair.  I was in love.


Of course that was about ten years after he died but the image of him was still vibrant - I suppose it always will be to lonely boys and girls (and those who have yet to make up their mind) out there in suburbia.  Glam is, of course, a very suburban mindset.


Musically he was a genius when he was at his peak - after his rambling folk beginnings and before his slightly bloated tragic end.  He was very innovative with his voice.  Not just the wailing, slightly broken quality but also the other sounds he used to make, the chirrups and clucks and grunts and whoops.  Like in Jeepster - some of the sounds he makes are unbelievably dirty and sexual.  


It still sounds rude - god knows what they made of it at the time.


I also think he was an under-rated guitar player  (he is generally considered among guitarist circles to have been pretty shit).  In fact, his twanging licks and sweet little phrases add a lot to every record.  Less is more - he had good vibrato and he could compose.  Basically, he could wail.


I think he would have achieved more but for his arrogance and refusal to listen to anyone else.  The very qualities which made him successful I suppose - but to have longevity you have to change and work with others.  I always think of Bowie as the obvious comparison point - the tortured artist who would break himself regularly and start again.  Bolan just wanted to be a star.


Dying young helps your career of course - and Bolan mysteriously seemed to see his own early death :  his obsession with cars despite being unable to drive...  he also said he didn't think he would live long.  I also think the lyrics of his (frankly awful) song 'Celebrate Summer' are rather prescient :  'Summer is Heaven in 77...'


And that's exactly where he ended up that year.


Bless Bolan, the big old glam drama queen.  He was fake, he was a poseur.  But that's the glam dream, the teenage dream, the dream all fabulous people have.  To be someone and something else.  Marc represents that aspiration for all of us dreamers.


Stroll on...