The early 1970s brought about an era of music primarily from the United Kingdom that spoke to me. I knew I was different as far back as the late 1960s, but I was not in an environment in or out of my home to understand what that meant. What intrigued me might have been a hint. I understood enough to recognize that certain things might promote the wrong attention. Because of this, I did not share some of my musical penchants with others early on. Let’s say that the clothing styles, ornate colors, makeup, glitter, and platform heals were not conducive to the 1970s dictate of what young men should be interested in. Just by its title alone, Glam Rock could elicit an eye-roll or a snide comment from someone unable to understand the practicality of different strokes for different folks.
In these recollections of my own history, I have stated that I don’t really remember fully experiencing some of the angst that I have read or heard from others in the era about being in the closet. That being said, I also can attest to building a very functional, tall, and thick wall of defense and creating characters that I felt fit the structure and mood of whatever environment I was in. I would be willing to bet that some people could see through these characters, but others had no idea what sort of fear or confusion was beneath. Not even I fully grasped the intensity of the wall I had built out of a necessity akin to a blackout. I just innately knew to protect myself.
But I was in the closet, whether aware or not. I grew up gay in an era that did not accept it, and I believe it might have stifled some early creativity and freedoms I might have enjoyed without the anxiety. Coming along with the closet came the bits and pieces of culture around me that I could discern as being dangerous or potentially able to point a finger in my direction when I had so successfully avoided that sort of notice in my life thus far. All of this had to fit neatly into my closet as well. Glam rock included
I remember my introduction to Glam Rock in the early 1970s through a young friend who was English. I cannot remember the boy’s name for the life of me, but it feels like it may have been Calvin. I don’t know the circumstances of our meeting; I don’t remember how long the friendship lasted, whether he was in school with me or if I might have met him during a summer vacation in or outside New York. I remember his introduction to certain bands like Slade, The Sweet, Mud, Gary Glitter, T-Rex, and my focus today: Mott the Hoople. I had already been introduced to the likes of King David Bowie and artists such as Elton John (who I remember emulating by stomping down the street in platform heels), Roxy Music, and Freddie Mercury, but “Calvin” threw my young tastes head-on into the world of Glam and all it represented at the time.
The artists who brought the Glam to life represented decadence and the danger I was trying to hide from in my earlier characters. The closet was an active place for me musically. There was something incredibly sparkly and alive about listening to bands like Slade sing “Gudbuy T’Jane” and The Sweet’s “The Six Teens” or “Ballroom Blitz.” The entire David Bowie Ziggy Stardust experience shaped me in so many ways it cannot even be accurately or genuinely tracked. Elton John may have played out throughout the 1970s as my favorite of the artists because of the longevity, playfulness, and lyrics, and because there was something about Elton that tended to shine through to the broader audiences at the time, thus providing me some form of cover and allowing me to enjoy the musical experiences a little more freely.
I don’t know what happened to Calvin, the British kid. Still, I will never forget his early influences on me, potentially laying a foundation for a lifetime of Anglophilia musically and otherwise. I am grateful for that original introduction to Ian Hunter and Mott the Hoople with tunes like “All the Young Dudes” and “All the Way from Memphis” (which I may have first heard as part of the original “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore” feature film and soundtrack.
“All the Young Dudes” was written and produced by David Bowie, the aforementioned personal hero. He gave it to Mott the Hoople after they rejected “Suffragette City,” if you can imagine anyone else singing that song besides Stardust himself. Initially, Mott the Hoople turned down Suffragette because they felt it didn’t fit who they were. At the time, they were also deciding to break up. Bowie still wanted the band to record something of his, so within two hours after the band’s bassist Pete Watts had turned down the original song, Bowie was playing an acoustic version of “All the Young Dudes” for them, and they were all completely blown away. Because of the song, the band stayed together and recorded and released the song in 1972.
So many sounds of Glam Rock have colored my life, each playing a significant role in one way or another. “All the Young Dudes” is a sound that ranks as one of the top Glam hits ever. Considering its pedigree and the haunting sound and beautiful chorus, I was taken back to my youth and the confines and safety of the large and dazzling closet I occupied at that time in my life. What a rich and colorful period they represented. How lucky I feel to have taken a part of it for myself.
Now I’ve drunk a lot of wine and I’m feeling fine
Got to race some cat to bed
Oh is that concrete all around or is it my head?
Yeah
I’m a dude, dad
Hey dudes!
(Carry the news) Where are you?
(Boogaloo dudes) Stand up
(Carry the news) ha, ha
(All the young dudes) I want to hear you