T. Rex “Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow” (1974)

Conventional wisdom holds that Marc Bolan & T. Rex started to sink with Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow (or was it Tanx?) into his bloated period of mid-seventies mediocrity, but as a Bolan apologist I still hold it in high regard. Certainly, Zinc Alloy is the strangest release yet from the glitter-rock fairy, an often uncomfortable and chaotic collection that radiates a nasty, coke-fueled jitter. Bolan's idea of the new T-Rex sound was some sort of bubblegum-soul hybrid, and to that end he introduced future Mrs. Bolan, Gloria Jones, to the T-Rex fold, whose blood-curdling wail ironically possessed about as much soul as a set of fingernails being drawn across a chalkboard. Her voice, plus heavy doses of Bolan's spazzy fuzz guitar, and strings and synthesizers, are some of the odd limbs comprising this stumbling, glam-funk Frankenstein. But Bolan could pull killer hooks out of his wizard's hat no matter how deluded his vision had become in his quest to break the American market, witness the jumpy "Venus Loon," jubilant "Interstellar Soul" and "Nameless Wilderness" or glam grind of "Liquid Gang." Elsewhere, song fragments like "Galaxy" and "Spanish Midnight" house equally effective melodies, while the sweaty "Explosive Mouth" and grand "Carlisle Smith & the Old One" are other lost gems from this release. The relatively tame "Teenage Dream," with it's retro-50's lean, would make for an odd single flop from the album. –Ben