Retro Review: T. Rex - “Electric Warrior”

In terms of early ‘70s rock, I’ve got not a clue as to what a Jeepster of Love would be. But when Marc Bolan sang of being one to his girl, the definition didn’t matter.

Because Bolan was one sexy piece of glam. And the music he created on Electric Warrior, the sixth album for T. Rex, thrust him into a realm even David Bowie couldn’t touch. Sure, everyone in their right mind (bad choice of words?!) knows Bowie, and what he contributed to music in the last 40 years. But his pal Bolan, sadly, doesn’t get the same kind of name recognition as Ziggy Stardust. Electric Warrior gave him every right to stake his claim as the king of glitter rock, however. Replete with steamy guitar riffs, seductive lyrics, and an elusive brand of rock, this album sets itself apart with, above all else, a smooth boogie ramble that makes even the term Jeepster seem provocative.

Announced by many, including Bolan himself, as the best album of 1971, this record remains an exciting piece of imaginative rock ‘n’ roll today. It was Bolan and percussionist Mickey Finn’s digression from a more folky sound into a ballsy rock ‘n’ roll theme, featuring musicians Bill Legend, Steve Currie and others, and it got such an electrifying response in London it ignited the term “T. Rextasy.”

Rightly so. The record opens with absolute bravado, as “Mambo Sun” enters like a swaggering man, three drinks deep. The song is a boogie on the verge of explosion, and it nicely sets the tone for the rest of the album. Many a track follows with the same kind of playful strut, but none packs a punch quite the way this one does.

T. Rex’s beginnings as Tyrannosaurus Rex, a folk-rock combination that oversaw many transformations before becoming the group that created Electric Warrior, were wrought with heavy acoustics and slow-breathing melodies, and this is shown in tracks such as “Monolith” and “Girl.” Folk also appears on less-daring tracks like “Cosmic Dancer,” but its lyrics “I danced myself right out the womb,” hint at greater things to come.

Singing of dragon heads, flying saucers, and electric witches, and proclaiming himself a “fleet-foot voodoo man,” Bolan liked to convey his surreal imagery of the world with blitzing jams & magical blues. He used a number of styles on this record, and they all maintained a steady three-chord beat to keep you entranced. Swerving from fast to slow, slow to fast, Electric Warrior likes to keep its listener mellow, then jolted to life with smashingly good tunes.

“Lean Woman Blues,” a bold, sexy slow-roller, is definitely one of my favorites. Injecting plenty of sensual rock ‘n’ roll into this avant-garde ballad, the track is nothing but delicious. But there’s so much to love on this record, it’s unfair to pinpoint just this one. And that’s what’s so great about the remastered version rereleased by Rhino Records in 2003—there’s even more to appreciate of the original 11 tracks, as well as a few new spicy tunes, a gorgeous acoustic version of “Planet Queen,” and a nearly–20 minute interview with Bolan in ’71.

The first release of Electric Warrior introduced T. Rex to America with “Get It On,” a song renamed to “Bang A Gong (Get It On)” because the band Chase had already created a track by the same name. It’s easy to assume T. Rex’s version, the band’s only chart-topping hit in the U.S., appealed to more middle-class listeners because it was more than just glam rock; it comes across as the type of sexy rawk even tough guys could get down to, with no shame.

Bolan could actually be considered the father of glam rock—prior to a televised performance at Top of the Pops, two spots of glitter were positioned below his eyes so he could be more visible, and it was seen as the birth of glam. It’s heartbreaking that Bolan died just a few years later, and that his unique style of music couldn’t be replicated even further. Electric Warrior and his band’s other glitzy releases will keep his name deservedly where it should be, though, as one of music’s greats, and the albums as essential pieces of rock ‘n’ roll.

Nothing T. Rex’s lead singer did with his voice and swagger will ever be forgotten.

Boland, baby—hands down, you’ll forever remain my Jeepster of Love.

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Phoenix - “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” - Buy It

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