Dana Anderson4 said:What I mean is, this whole Glam Rock narrative has always felt a little forced to me. Like, if you look at T. Rex, or even Duran Duran and David Bowie, they honestly could have functioned perfectly fine without all that flashy, over-the-top component. If we step back and look at them today, you can see how musically distinct they actually are from one another, :
I don't find it forced at all. Maybe you just didn't live through it. Bolan basically stopped functioning "normally" after that specific phase (you know, right after >), but before that—during the John's Children era leading up to the end of Tyrannosaurus Rex, specifically that Hot Love>> single—he was playing an entirely different game. It's the same story with Bowie. Bowie paired with Mick Ronson is peak Bowie, though he had some great stuff early on and plenty of hits later too. Now, Roxy is a different beast altogether, as is Sparks, but to my ears, those first two albums sound incredibly Glam (take > for example). Honestly, his first record with Brian Eno feels even more Glam than the first two Roxy albums. And there’s a whole sea of other killer bands in the first half of the 70s that possessed
that specific sound. Sure, some leaned more toward pop while others went full art-rock. To throw some names into the mix alongside the ones mentioned: The Rats, Iron Cross, Hollywood Brats, Hello, Geordie, and The Jook (the latter being more pub glam, almost bordering on pop-punk—very British style, not like anything out of SoCal). What I'm getting at is that when I listen to these bands, I distinctly hear those "Ronson-Bolan" guitars, that heavy "thump thump" bass sitting deep in the mix, massive stadium drums, and a certain percussive swagger. It's the sonic equivalent of sex. They share a common sonic DNA. More importantly, they were products of their era, much like Krautrock, Punk, The Beatles, or Elvis, or even the American New Wave—which ties into so many things: from more liberal attitudes toward sex to the fact that a generation was forming that felt nostalgic for old-school rock 'n' roll, prompting "new kids" to reinvent it to make it interesting for their own peers (something the punks would eventually do by taking Chuck Berry riffs and playing them faster and way worse). Plus, let's be real, Glam—much like Mod or Punk—was essentially invented by the most obnoxious middle class in existence, the English, of course. For me, the fashion is secondary; it’s just a stage uniform. Glam definitely has its "look," but Metal and Punk have looks too. Just as Metal and Punk have their own signature sounds, Glam absolutely has its own.
Now, in any pop scene, you're going to have people jumping on the bandwagon just to chase a paycheck or some fleeting fame. Even in its prime, Glam wasn't immune to that, though it was relatively more authentic. I mean, look at Ricky Wild. I guess he has a certain camp value today, similar to the fashion of that era. What about Showadawady? Or Kiss? Even they had brilliant moments (like >) along with guys like Gary Glitter or Suzy Quatro. And man, Slade>>—those first three albums are absolute gold! Not to mention the absolutely fantastic first seven or eight Alice Cooper albums (don't forget, Johnny Rotten "sang" > at his Sex Pistols audition). Glam got a bad rap because of those 80s hair metal bands—guys who just threw on some scraps to look good on MTV (a total product of their time!). They definitely understood Paul Stanley's lesson (something like, "I'm a rock 'n' roll star... my job is to hook up with every woman within fifty yards," if I recall correctly), but they completely missed the point of actual rock 'n' roll. By the way, are there any "guitar" records that sound more grating than those 80s hair metal albums?
Musically speaking, > isn't even really "jumping on" Glam... to me, it sounds more like Meat Loaf. It belongs in the "70s Oddities" category. Back then, they called it a rock opera. Today, we'd probably just call it kitsch. > deals with sex, sure, just like Glam does, but Glam is a much, much broader umbrella. Take a band like Queen—could you call them pastoral Glam? Maybe, at least on their first couple of records. Or Brega—the ultimate pop bandwagon. It's like a Glam version of Chuck Berry's Rock 'n' Roll Music, demonstrated by some variety show act on a late-night American TV special. Still, Brega had some genuinely great quasi-glam moments, especially on their second record—songs like "You're shouting at the whole village" or "That's how it is, my dear..." and "Pose, my horses!" (which leans into that Hot Chocolate vibe—more like Glitter before the Glam really hit).
Look, let me tell you something—Glam Rock is the real deal; there’s absolutely no point in even bringing his name up if you don't get it.