Marc Bolan’s boogie and hand-claps are enough to induce dizzying euphoria in any listener. It’s the absolute height of T-rextasy, feather boa and all. But if you have any time at all for thought, notice the lyrical gemwork here. Bolan is leaning hard on his usual mixed animal metaphors, because, yes, tigers are sexy and so are foxes. He is also saying, very clearly, that he plans on banging the object of his desire, even though he knows and he knows that you know, that “she’s a dude”. Now, we know with some certitude that Marc Bolan was straight, or as ‘straight’ as a guy who wore cosmetics and ladies’ shoes could consider himself to be. But it was the seventies, it was glam rock, and gender boundaries were, for the time being and in that specific context, gloriously passé. Consider it the songwriter throwing out an air-kiss to everyone who wants to bang anyone, anywhere, anytime and doesn’t care who they are or what form they’re in as long as the action is solid gold. Here’s to everyone whose sexual orientation is simply ‘horny little monkey’ and doesn’t need to be anymore complicated or specific than that.