On This Day… 20th March

Time for another look back at some famous moments in music history, and the chart-topping hits that go along with them…

Starting with a birth and a death. March 20th 2020 saw the passing of country icon Kenny Rogers, who had managed two UK number ones in the late seventies and early eighties. Both songs were slightly out-of-kilter for the disco, punk and new-wave sounds of the time, but if listening to every single number one single has taught me anything, it’s that country and western (and reggae) are immune to popular tastes, and keep popping up time and again.

Here’s his first chart-topper, ‘Lucille’ (original post here), about a man who meets a downtrodden woman drowning her sorrows. I am a fan of a good opening line, and there have been few finer than In a bar in Toledo, Across from the depot, On a barstool she took off her ring…

Over a century before, March 20th 1917 saw the birth of Vera Lynn. A legendary name in British popular music, she began performing aged seven, released her first single in 1935 (aged eighteen), and scored her final Top 10 album in 2017 (aged one-hundred), giving her a career spanning ninety-six years! Despite this astounding longevity, Lynn only managed one UK #1: ‘My Son, My Son’ (original post here).

I won’t claim to particularly enjoy this very old-fashioned record, but Dame Vera doesn’t half sing the life out of it. And you can really make out what she’s singing, something my dear departed Gran was very particular about. Plus, I think it prominently features a clarinet, something not many other #1s have. I also did a Remembering post on Lynn, when she died in 2020.

Meanwhile, on this day in 1991, Michael Jackson signed what was the biggest record contract in history, with Sony. Both the advance, and his share of future record profits, were beyond anything seen before. You can see why the execs went out their way to keep hold of Jackson, given that his previous LPs, ‘Thriller’ and ‘Bad’, had been two of the highest sellers of all time. But you can also argue that this was the start of Jackson’s slow slide into creative inertia and over-indulgence, as little of his nineties output can rival that of his eighties hits. Still, here’s ‘Black and White’ the first single from the first album to be released under the new contract, ‘Dangerous’ (original post here).

March 20th 1969 was also the day on which John Lennon married Yoko Ono at the British Consulate in Gibraltar (near Spain), before heading to the Amsterdam Hilton and talking in their beds for a week… Of course, these are not my own words, and so why don’t we let ‘The Ballad of John and Yoko’ tell the full story. This seemed for a long, long time to have been the Beatles’ final number one (though it famously only features John and Paul), until ‘Now and Then’ in 2023 (original post here).

Lastly, on this day in 1977, T. Rex played their final British concert at the Locarno in Portsmouth. Their final ever live appearance would come a couple of months later in Stockholm, and three months after that Marc Bolan would die in a car crash. Neatly bookmarking T. Rex’s career, though, is the fact that ‘Hot Love’ was two weeks into a six-week residence on top of the charts on this day in 1971 (see original post here). Whether or not it was indeed the first glam rock #1 is up for debate. What is not up for debate is the song’s audacity (half of it is just nanananas), or its brilliance.

That one goes out to all those who are faster than most and who live on the coast… Regular posting resumes in a few days!

298. ‘Hot Love’, by T. Rex

T-Rextasy has arrived at the top of the charts. Over the next year and a bit one band, led by one tiny little sparkling pixie, will dominate the top of the UK singles charts, and bring with it the defining sound of the early seventies. Wham bam, yes it’s glam!

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Hot Love, by T. Rex (their 1st of four #1s)

6 weeks, from 14th March – 25th April 1971

But the intro to ‘Hot Love’ is actually quite gentle, quite lilting. A boogie-woogie bassline and some light strings. It’s still an intro that makes you sit up, that sounds unlike anything that’s topped the charts before – one of those leaps forward that come along every so often – it’s just not instantly ‘T. Rex’. Well she’s my woman of gold, And she’s not very old, Uh-huh-huh…

Tyrannosaurus Rex had spent the tail end of the sixties recording psychedelic folk-rock with mystical themes (sample title: ‘By the Light of a Magical Moon’). As the seventies came around they dropped the ‘yrannosaurus’ and plugged their guitars in. But here, Marc Bolan is still singing like a hippy: Well she’s faster than most, And she lives on the coast, Uh-huh-huh… Note the Elvis stutter, though. You can be sure it’s deliberate. Bolan wasn’t afraid of comparing himself to the greats.

One of the complaints most often directed at Marc Bolan is that his lyrics are nonsense. But to say that is to miss the point completely. Firstly, any man who can produce lyrics like ‘I drive a Rolls-Royce, Cos it’s good for my voice’ is a stone-cold genius. But secondly, glam rock, essentially, isn’t about the lyrics. The lyrics are just something to hang all the sequins and hair-sprayed wigs on. At the same time, if you listen again, and squint a little, you can squeeze meaning out of them: Well she ain’t no witch, And I love the ways she twitches, Uh-huh… I’m a labourer of love, In my Persian gloves, Uh-huh-huh…

These lines paint him as a gigolo, a dandy, a Byronic figure marauding the countryside giving the ladies hot love all night long. And then, 1:15 in, glam rock truly arrives. The lead guitar kicks, Bolan screeches, twice, like a vampire going straight for a virgin’s neck, before letting out a lascivious, drawn-out moan…. Uuuuuuh…

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The last three minutes of this five-minute long record is a coda, a prolonged fade-out. La-la-la-lalalala… La-la-la-lalalala… Bored with aping Elvis, Bolan now thinks he’s The Beatles. The man was never short on confidence… The band as a whole were a force of nature – their drummer (this was the first T. Rex song to feature a drum-kit) had the stage name ‘Legend’, given to him by Marc, of course.

La-la-la-lalalala… it goes, on and on, with big drums, stomping and clapping, growing progressively more raucous, until a huge wig-out right at the end. Bolan mutters, then grunts, then moans. If this was it, then it would still be quite the legacy at the top of the charts. But there’s more to come. Much more. They had hit #2 a few months before with ‘Ride a White Swan’, and were embarking on a run of ten singles, none of which would chart lower than #4.

After this glowing write-up, though, I do have to admit that ‘Hot Love’ isn’t my favourite T. Rex song. (It isn’t even my favourite T. Rex number one.) But it is the perfect introduction to the band: catchy, silly, fun, and sexy.

Find my Spotify playlist here.