It feels like Bolan has hit upon the formula for the perfect bit of pop-rock with this album. Yes, many of the beat-heavy songs are the progenitors of the glam rock sound (and whereas I pondered with Big Star if “glam” required the visuals as well as the music, Bolan was among the first to deliver that too (merging with Bowie’s androgynous alien persona of the moment).
The singles Metal Guru and Telegram Sam are good exemplars of the rockier tracks on the album, although Buick McKane is probably the hardest rocking track on the album, the typical thumping drum/bass/guitar combo fuzzed up to full. Bolan takes a very simple musical refrain and, basically, repeats it for the length of the song. Sometimes the vocals change key, but the music underneath rarely does much in the way of difference between verse and chorus.
The lyrics, too, are similarly simple and often nonsensical. Telegraph Sam, for example, features a parade of characters given limerick-style treatment - “Jungle-face Jake, Jungle-face Jake, Make no mistake, With Jungle-face Jake”. The simplicity of the whole package makes for easily memorable songs with instant hooks.
Sometimes he goes slower, and for me sometimes these are the better tracks – Spaceball Ricochet and Rabbit Fighter are two good ones. Producer Tony Visconti provides distinctive string accompaniment, and this sometimes is appropriately simple – a cello following the bassline, for example. Backing vocals, the falsetto “aah”s that also characterise glam rock, are provided by two guys Flo and Eddie who worked with Zappa for a while, although according to Visconti a lot of the tracks are himself and Bolan doing an impression of Flo and Eddie.
You can play the T Rex Song Name Game too - I haven't thought of an exact formula, but you need two seemingly completely disconnected words that you can slam together - Plastic Armadillo. Duvet Killer. Animal Marzipan.
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