CREEM ONLINE: T.Rex — Born To Boogie

T.Rex
Born To Boogie
Sanctuary

In this download age where we oughta be eulogizin' the demise of traditional record packaging, it's heartening to find a recent reissue chock full of everything and the kitchen sink. The long-MIA T.Rex '72 concert film Born to Boogie is just such a repackage. The fact that UK-based Sanctuary Records has deemed it also worthy of a US release—in a five hour-plus DVD and separate 2-CD audio, no less—is reason enough for a closer look.

T.Rex never meant much in the States. Marc Bolan's calculated assault on America (immortalized on the May '72 cover of CREEM) proved a monumental misfire. Despite the triumph of "Bang a Gong (Get It On)" and Electric Warrior, the US was ultimately turned off to the hype. By 1973, Bolan couldn't get arrested here.

Back in England, it was a riotously different story. T.Rex singles were regularly topping the charts in unheard of sales numbers and Marc Bolan—T.Rex' face/voice/songwriter/nominal guitar hero—had the music papers covering his every move and boast.

In this crazy milieu dubbed by the UK press as T.Rextasy, a concert film was quickly incorporated into the plan, to be filmed at a triumphant show at London's Wembley Arena. Prophetically, the concert sold-out so quickly that a matinee show was added. Bolan's pal Ringo Starr signed on to direct. 20,000 children of the post-sixties revolution guaranteed it would be the UK concert event of that year.

There was a botched US tour a month prior to these two shows but you'd never know it from the Bolan swagger exhibited throughout the Born to Boogie DVD. He is beyond any acceptable level of cockiness, strutting incessantly across the stage like a %$#@ing peacock, shoulders shrugged, puffing 'n' pouting. Bouncing up and down with a seemingly irreparable ear-to-ear grin obscured only during the more physical, hair-launching guitar idol gestures, Marc Bolan simply puts out.

While others will undoubtedly focus in on his campy, glam boy affectations (frequently) captured in this film, Bolan's connection with his guitar is the real revelation. Born to Boogie is required viewing for aspiring air guitarists.

The original film is full of live highlights. The cosmic acoustic numbers are OK, not causing too much disruption, while the rockers—the majority of the performances, not surprisingly—deliver the goods to a song. "Telegram Sam" is especially powerful with a beefed-up riff that will dig deep into your skull. "Hot Love" captures all of the excitement of T. Rextasy with mass audience hysteria in ample supply.

"Bang a Gong (Get It On)" is a throwaway, that is until it veers off into eight minutes of interstellar spacetruckin' with the focus more democratically distributed among the rest of T. Rex (otherworldly percussionist & apparently whistle enthusiast Mickey Finn, fab rhythm section of bassist Steve Currie & drummer Bill Legend).

Not one to relinquish the spotlight for more than a moment, towards the end Bolan collapses to his knees and proceeds to molest his Stratocaster with a tambourine. Depending on one's perspective, this will either sound horrible or qualify as good noise (count me firmly in the latter category). Either way, it's all part of the fun.

There are incidental, non-concert scenes which are preposterously bad. At one point, however, the boys do chug through an early, thumping version of "Children of the Revolution"; a wild lip-sync jam filmed at Apple Studios with Ringo and Elton.

The DVD includes an extra four hours of material (!). There's too much to catalog here but of note is restored footage of both shows in their entirety. With the exception of a tentative "Get It On" (which exposes the film's spontaneous jam as anything but), the previously-unseen matinee show was well worth the trouble of liberating from its rusty reel canisters. The quality of the restored print is superb, the colors as rich as expected for this definitive glam era document. Of the bonus features, the interview with unassuming, born again drummer Bill Legend is actually a refreshing respite after an hour of Bolan testimonial/hyperbole from other interviewees.

Sanctuary has simultaneously issued a Born to Boogie CD. Disc one is more or less a complete playback of the film, idiotic "dialogue" included. The concert cuts all hail from the more energized evening show. Producer Tony Visconti remixed the show from the original multi-tracks and considering the era in which they were recorded, the sound is damn exceptional. There's also a vintage interview with Bolan which closes disc one.

The second disc appears to be the complete matinee show including all the announcements and a sloppy encore cover of "Summertime Blues"; easily the most disposable cut in the whole bunch. A few of these matinee performances ("Baby Strange", "Telegram Sam") are free of the suspicious backing vocals that seep through on the soundtrack. There is also a deceptively rockin' six minute-plus version of the b-side, "Cadillac", which was left out of the film.

When I first saw the CD, it struck me as nothing more than a souvenir for T.Rex completists. As it turns out, the recording holds up better than period live albums of Ziggy, Rod & the Faces, Mott the Hoople and possibly even Sweet (whose Rainbow '73 set, it should be admitted, is another storming live sampling from the mascara era). Born to Boogie is essential rock 'n' film. Get a ticket.

—Jeff Jarema
June 2005

Photo by Robert Matheu