Glam rock was certainly a bizarre musical genre. It was the only time in history when shiny red pleather platform thigh-highs were considered the height of manliness. It was a short-lived moment, needless to say. Everyone who defined the style went on to transcend it. The second-tier copycats, the Gary Glitters and Alvin Stardusts, went on to be roundly forgotten. Then there was Mott the Hoople, who float somewhere in between. They weren’t as great as the greats, but they were substantially better than most of the non-greats. They had the advantage of having David Bowie’s personal approval and came to fame on one of his songs, but their weirdness was all their own. Their classic albums are still widely respected, and although they didn’t go on to redefine themselves strongly afterwards, Ian Hunter has had a long and solid solo career. Perhaps if they had chosen a less silly name, they would have gone on to more accolades, even after silly names and sillier boots had gone from fashion.


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