“His prophecies were you”
One minute and twenty four seconds of Tyrannosaurus Rex. That’s almost not even a full song. No, but trust me, it is an experience. I think that perhaps with the early Tyrannosaurus Rex albums, the songs don’t work so well out of context. The famous T.Rex albums that followed were a parade of hit singles, but this was a very different animal. The early albums need to be taken in as a whole. The songs flow together, and not one of them is anywhere near being a hit single. They may strike you as strange, especially alone like this, but they grow on you. You can’t help being charmed by Marc Bolan’s world, with its light mysticism and fantasy.
Where does this fit into Marc Bolan’s cosmology? Firmly on the elves and talking animals end of the spectrum, where Bolan explored childlike and whimsical realms of fantasy. In the face of history, it’s clearly the strutting rock songs about cars and babes that hold the place of honor. That’s what people respond to, and that’s where Bolan’s legacy lies. But the fey charm of the Tyrannosaurus Rex years has its own appeal, though it’s obviously not for everybody. It’s for people who never grew out of loving The Wind in the Willows, who like to get lost inside their own heads and see little faces in the trees and imagine the inner monologue of every animal.
So a hind is a deer, a female deer. Nijinski was a ballet dancer. Tyrannosaurus Rex was a band. A Nijinski Hind is a creature of otherworldly grace and beauty, a symbol of purity and natural magic. Or something. Are we all clear on Marc Bolan’s mumbly mythos? Bolan was always much enamored of fairytales and fantasy, before he figured out that people just wanna hear songs about sex and hot rods. Nobody wrote better sexy car songs than Bolan, but his magic-infused early songs have an entirely different charm.