Clearing The Way
The end of an era for Bolan’s glam-rock trailblazers. By Daryl Easlea
T.rex
Tanx
★★★★
Edsel ESDL 0193 (2CD)
As 1972 progressed, Marc Bolan’s undisputed 18-month leadership of ‘Dream Is Over’ pop was being contested: noisy upstarts Slade were on one flank, the Osmonds/ David Cassidy teeny-weeny axis in the middle and then, old pal David Bowie’s Starman was finally on the rise among the left-field glamerati: Bolan was squeezed from all sides. The Born To Boogie film, released in December 1972 hadn’t exactly enamoured the wider world to Bolan’s cause. Whereas July 1972’s The Slider was the album released at the absolute zenith of Trexstacy, its follow-up, Tanx, was arrived in March 1973, as the group’s inexorable decline in popularity had slowly yet significantly begun. It needed to reassert Bolan’s authority. Recorded at the Château d’hérouville in Autumn 1972, Bolanists will ponder the subject into the night: was Tanx the last truly great T.rex album?
It certainly had all the component parts in place: Tony Visconti was again in the producer’s chair, free from Bowie duties for a while, so could concentrate on his original superstar charge. Mickey Finn was still Bolan’s foil, with his congas, ‘hand percussion’, and vocals; rounded out by one of glam’s most dependable rhythm sections, Steve Currie on bass and Bill ‘Legend’ Fifield on drums. However, there were additions to the line-up – Bolan was expanding his palette to incorporate soul elements. What was of great interest was the use of the crème de la crème of UK session voices, Madeline Bell, Barry St John, Vicki Brown, Sue and Sunny and Lesley Duncan, as well as sax playing from Howie Casey, and use of a most un-t. Rex-like instrument, the Mellotron. What was of less interest was reported temper tantrums, with Bolan’s ego getting in the way of the recording process.
Most of Tanx is more of the same performed beautifully; it is very easy to play ‘spot the template’ throughout – Rapids mines the Get It On groove; Life Is Strange and Broken-hearted Blues are Cosmic Dancer, the latter doused in Casey’s saxophone. It’s also very, very beautiful, and reminds this writer of David Jackson’s sax playing on Van Der Graaf Generator’s more reflective moments. Shock Rock (“if you know how to rock, you don’t have to shock”), which seems to swipe at the Alice Coopers of the world, channels Metal Guru.
But there are enough trimmings to mark out a difference: after a false start, Tenement Lady choogles in, but then dissolves into a cosmic, phased ballad; the swooning orchestration that Visconti arranges for Electric Slim And The Factory Hen encourages one of Bolan’s most satisfying performances; The Street And Babe Shadow adds a soulful melodrama. With barely any of the tunes getting past three-and-a half minutes (Shock Rock and Country Honey struggle to get to two) the five minute-plus closer Left Hand Luke And The Beggar Boys seems like Tanx’s Huge Statement. With full soul vocal backing and Mellotron swells, Bolan takes it to church, growling, preening, testifying, offering one of his greatest performances as well as the astonishingly bewildering doggerel of
Most of Tanx is more of the same performed beautifully
“myxomatosis is an animal’s disease, but I got so shook up Mama, it ate away my knees.” It all ends with a snort
. . . a metaphor for this era of T. Rex.
This Tanx expanded edition – a box repackage of the previous doublepack – contains the ‘Left Hand Luke’ version of the album, acoustic demos and all of the attendant singles and B-sides, still begging the question as to how different Tanx could have been if Solid Gold Easy Action and 20th Century Boy had opened up each side. These and Children Of The Revolution are the primest cuts of Bolan and Visconti’s professionalism – the formula had been struck and with final amendments, was perfected.
Whether Tanx was Bolan’s final artistic helicopter leaving Saigon is up for much dispute – what is definite is that it would never be the same again. This version offers the opportunity to mull over all the arguments, while revelling simply in the glittering audacity and tuneful beauty of Marc
Bolan. Tanx is T.rex caught in the eye of the storm – what it sounded like to have a ‘mania’ named after you, while considering options as how he could escape the teenybop straightjacket and have a lasting career. File under: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, embellish.