“It’s a car, man, it’s a car” – Marc Bolan
And also “It’s a festival of life song. I relate ‘Metal Guru’ to all Gods around. I believe in a God, but I have no religion. With ‘Metal Guru’, it’s like someone special, it must be a Godhead. I thought how God would be, he’d be all alone without a telephone. I don’t answer the phone any more. I have codes where people ring me at certain times.” It’s the universal Godhead taking a form we can all relate to; that of a souped-up muscle car. That’s the sort of logic only Marc Bolan could have come up with. The obvious irony of Bolan’s car fixation and the manner of his death doesn’t dim the delightfulness of the celebration. Bolan had an infectious enthusiasm for a lot of silly things from vehicular Americana to wearing ladies’ shoes, and he wasn’t embarrassed to mix as many random things into one song as possible. Generally, girls, cars and half-baked spirituality don’t always make great lyrical bedfellows, but it works because of sheer Bolan chutzpah. More than anyone, Bolan epitomized glam rock as a razor’s edge between seriously transformative and absolutely ridiculous. And more than anyone, he did so with joyous abandon. He was a very, very silly godhead, but a genuine godhead nonetheless.