T Rex-Tanx

T-Rex’s “Tanx” became the unfortunate album that Bolan chose to release after the one-two punch of his non-debatable classic albums “Electric Warrior” and “The Slider.” Anyone interested in discovering Bolan is automatically directed to those two albums, and when you’ve found yourself overcome by how fucking awesome they are, you’ll be scratching your heads as to where you should go next.
I went with “Tanx,” which Rhino finally released domestically with extensive liner notes and a bonus disc, because most critics recognized it as the last good T-Rex album before the spaceship crashed.
Strangely enough, Bolan released a pair of excellent singles after “The Slider,” “20th Century Boy” and “Children of the Revolution,” which continued the glam-guitar-crunch that made him famous, but voted against including these singles on his next album. Instead, Bolan decided to start fresh with producer Tony Visconti and, at the same time, expand the formula that gave the liftoff to T-Rextasy. To do this, the pair spent a lengthy amount of time in the studio adding backing vocals, horns, and studio trickery. The timing was a little off perhaps as Bowie was in the middle of his Ziggy phase and was focused on the same sonic landscape that Bolan was beginning to turn his back on. So while Ziggy played guitar, The Slider played the mellotron.
When looked at in it’s original album format, “Tanx” doesn’t necessarily “tank,” but it doesn’t get off the ground in many respects. Many of the songs seems cluttered and restrained. It would have been great if Bolan went in the opposite direction when he decided to take off the platform shows and went towards an even rawer approach that would be even too salty for those teenage girls to take.
The great thing about the re-issue is that you get a bonus disc that actually accomplishes this: nearly ever song on the album is also presented in a demo form, and I for one found myself playing this disc more than the proper album. “Country Honey” becomes dirtier, “Broken-Hearted Blues” reveals itself to be one of Marc’s best ballads (the line “the wind on that night/was tempered like a knife” is just fucking great) and “The Street and Babe Shadow” is transformed into an acoustic back-porch blues shuffle. It’s the album that you wish “Tanx” would have been.
The aforementioned singles released before the “Tanx” recording sessions are included too, which means that you can pretty much veto Bolan’s ultimate direction and compose your own version of the album which is maybe just a hair beneath “The Slider.” And with “The Slider” being as great as it is, you have the ability of making “Tanx” the hat-trick that it should have been back in 1973.