By the time
Marc Bolan began recording
Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow in 1973, he had proclaimed glam rock to be over, broken up with his wife, rediscovered American soul music, and made great strides toward figuring out what came next for him after massive stardom and success. To that end, the album makes some important changes to the
T. Rex template. Vocalists
Gloria Jones and
Sister Pat Hall take on a large role, prodding
Bolan on with their unbridled enthusiasm; the tempos have some extra funk baked in; and much like on the previous album,
Tanx, the production is powerful and punchy with the beat quite often usurping the place of the almighty guitar riff. The alterations lead to something that's very
T. Rex at its core, yet just different enough to be fascinating and thrillingly fun.
Bolan's loose and lively interplay with
Jones and
Hall is a gas throughout; at times, the backing singers threaten to take over the spotlight, but he wrests it back by being extra slinky, strange, and Bolanesque. He definitely sounds inspired by the new surroundings; the internal and external struggles of trying to stave off the inevitable fall from the pop summit also drove
Bolan to reach deep within himself for some very impressive songs, especially the ballads like "Change" and "Teenage Dream." These songs feel ripped from
Bolan's soul, and he sings them with more sincerity than one might expect. Of course, he balances these missives from the dark recesses of his insecure soul with goofy, giddy rockers like "Venus Loon" and "Interstellar Soul" that have rubber-band limbs and big smiles plastered across their faces. The stripped-back -- for
T. Rex -- production hides neat little surprises like thudding acoustic bass, wonky slide guitars, harp glissandos, and lots of barrelhouse piano to go along with
Bolan's increasingly aggressive guitar playing. It's a familiar dichotomy on a
T. Rex album --
Bolan was a genius at balancing strutting mythmaking and middle-of-the-night reckonings -- and here it feels even more drastic than on past records. It's almost difficult to reconcile hard-as-diamonds tracks like "Explosive Mouth," where the band and singers show
the Rolling Stones what it means to be tough and sexy for real, and hilariously silly songs like "The Leopards featuring Gardenia and the Mighty Slug," which would fall into self-parody if they weren't so damn catchy. Really, though, that's the beauty of
T. Rex and
Marc Bolan -- the sublime and the ridiculous duking it out to see who gets to wear the glittery top hat.
Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow might not be the best or most loved
T. Rex album, but its deep grooves, real emotion, rock-hard sound, and almost breathless dedication and excitement make it impossible to dismiss.
[
Edsel's 2024 reissue of the album carries over the singles -- including that classic slice of self-mythologizing rock & roll "The Groover" -- that most reissues have, along with a full second disc of alternate takes and demos that reflect the running order of
Zinc Alloy. It makes for a perfect compendium to the record, giving a glimpse into
Bolan's working methods. It's loose, fun, and quite often enlightening, so much so that at times one might even prefer its lo-fi charms to the slightly slicker production of the album itself. Quite a few previous reissues by
Edsel and others have contained this exact material; this one has new liner notes and a fold-out cardboard package.] ~ Tim Sendra