THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE: 20th Century Boy

This was adapted in part from a previous piece for use in my long-threatened book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1). It is no longer part of that book's blueprint, but will likely resurface in the even more hypothetical This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 2.

An infinite number of tracks can reach be THE greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Today, this is THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE!

T. REX: 20th Century Boy

Written by Marc Bolan

Produced by Tony Visconti
Single, Ariola [U.K.], 1973

Marc Bolan--the voice and personification of the '70s U.K. glam act T. Rex--was killed in a car accident on September 16th, 1977. It was less than a month into my first semester at college, and I heard the news while listening to the radio in my dorm room. I went out to tell people on my floor that Marc Bolan had died. No one had any clue whatsoever about who this Marc Bolan guy was. It was another early sign that I had chosen the wrong musical environment for my college experience.

But, to be fair to my collegiate peers and their divergent musical tastes, I didn't know all that much about Bolan at the time, either. I knew just one song: "Bang A Gong (Get It On)," an enduring radio classic from 1972, a track even more familiar to me from its inclusion on an oddball 1974 double-album various-artists set called Heavy Metal.

(I have no idea of the thought process that created Heavy Metal; if there's a definitive account of the record's genesis out there somewhere, I'd love to read it. The great and powerful internet suggests that Heavy Metal was a sequel to a 1973 four-record set called Superstars Of The 70's, and I kinda wish I'd snagged a copy of that one when I was a young teen. The lineup on Superstars Of The 70's includes Otis Redding, the Kinks, Todd Rundgren, Wilson Pickett, the Rolling Stones, Roberta Flack, Joni Mitchell, the Beach Boys, and Gordon Lightfoot, a diverse menu that whet the ol' Me Decade musical appetite. MORE!! Heavy Metal met the next stage of that insatiable demand, with a curious disregard for any plausible parameters of its title genre. Heavy Metal includes tracks by Black Sabbath, the Allman Brothers Band, the Eagles, the Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, the J. Geils Band, Yes, Deep Purple, War, Van Morrison, Alice Cooper, the MC5, and T. Rex. It was the most liberal interpretation of "heavy metal" until the Grammy for Best Hard Rock/Heavy Metal Recording went to Jethro Tull in 1989.)

For dramatic purposes, the role of GRAMMY-winning metal act Jethro Tull will be performed by the members of Spinal Tap

My own relative ignorance about the T. Rex catalog didn't stop me from still being appalled by the notion of no one in my dorm even recognizing Bolan's name. I knew that much, thanks; I read rock mags, I read rock histories, and I knew Marc Bolan and T. Rex had been a big deal.

Had I ever seen T. Rex on TV by that point? Maybe? If they were on Midnight Special or the British import Supersonic, I may have had the chance to see Bolan and friends sing about jeepsters, or riding a white swan, or bangin' a gong, gettin' it on, bang a gong!  I betcha I'd heard something on the radio, AM or FM. I definitely felt the loss one feels when a rock star passes, even if it was a star I knew upon reflection only.

My first T. Rex album was a cutout copy of 1974's Light Of Love, itself a lesser light in the T. Rex canon. In the '80s, regular video play on MTV Closet Classics hooked me on T. Rex's fabulous "Jeepster." "Bang A Gong" had become a hit again via an unsubtle cover by Power Station, but I preferred the T. Rex original. 

I don't know when I first heard "20th Century Boy." I swear it was some time before it was used in a car commercial, but if it had been that, I would admit it proudly; I have no objection whatsoever to advertising making use of great songs when appropriate. By whatever means, "20th Century Boy" became my favorite T. Rex track, a confident, lurching guitar strut that embodies the nebulous concept of glam/glitter with greater authority than even the best of Slade, Sweet, or Suzi Quatro. Bolan's preening yelps and wails elevate him to the status of rock god within a framework of loud, dissipated abandon. The guitar riff alone is sufficient to overcome naysayers with cool, disconnected efficiency. I'm your toy, your 20th century boy.

Gratuitous picture of Suzi Quatro. Because...BECAUSE!!

At 17, I barely knew who Marc Bolan was. But I knew enough to mourn, to feel that the pop world had suffered a loss even though so few seemed to realize it or understand it. On some level, though, I knew. Farewell, 20th century boy.

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