Originally released in 1968, the first Tyrannosaurus Rex album My People Were Fair… positioned the former Mod face and beatnik Marc Bolan right at the heart of the burgeoning underground / hippie subculture. This new 2-CD deluxe edition contains a 2014 remaster plus a host of bonus material. It includes both stereo and mono versions of the original album plus 12 tracks recorded for John Peel’s Top Gear show in 1967 and 1968, all unreleased. Also present are 4 songs from the Joe Boyd sessions, 2 of which are previously unreleased, 7 Tony Visconti home demos of which 5 are previously unreleased and 2 Marc Bolan interviews, also previously unreleased...

In an age where music ‘innovates’ by mercilessly plundering from its own past with shameless abandon it’s difficult to image a time when the term ‘new music’ actually meant just that. And by any measure the years 1966 to 1968 were 36 months of frenetic activity, discovery, innovation and unprecedented experimentation.

At one end you have Mods and the Beat Boom [all sharp suits and narrow ties] – at the other there’s an explosion of colour, hippy ideals and a whole new musical vocabulary that had ditched the four-to-the-bar strictures of rock and roll and R&B in favour of something far more fluid. Much of this new musical expression was truly horrible but such was the pace of change that failures could be easily forgotten...

And sat, quite literally, in the middle of all this was the Bopping Gnome – Marc Bolan. His progression from Mod to folk strummer to psychedelic guru [largely sat on stage, legs crossed] tracked the world of musical change in microcosm [c.f. David Bowie]. He later progressed to super star status by adding Chuck Berry back into the mix while turning his hippy lyrics into something more ‘cosmic comedy’ but for a while he weaved mystic mayhem, tinged with Indian influences, topped off with his characteristic vocal warble.

And this is what we have here – experimentation of a type only to be found in a brief blossoming of boundary-pushing: no other year could have given us My People Were Fair…. This release bleeds 1968. So is it any good? Well, that rather depends on why you’re listening. If you want to enjoy an album on its own terms – as a stand-alone product – the answer is probably ‘no’. The hippy dressings that layer the music haven’t aged well. But if you appreciate the sound of change and experimentation – the journey rather than the destination – then this collection could be a real pleasure for you.

Do we need the demos, outtakes and vintage BBC interviews? Again it’ll be down to how you’re listening. If you’re ready to set aside your prejudices and listen as though this was a documentary of its time [and in many ways it is] then there’s fun to be had. If, however, British psychedelia [with a whimsy missing from its more drug-focused US counterpart] isn’t your cuppa then you’ll find this album to be a painful 33 minutes of schoolboy poetry with cutesy trimmings.

In the end, it’s history – and you don’t have to value the product to appreciate its significance. This detailed two-disc reissue of My People Were Fair… probably won’t sell in huge numbers but for those that do shell out there’s a lot to enjoyed in you’re prepared to return your ears a little.

Bolan went onto make great music with a timeless appeal – but if you expect 'Ride a White Swan' here you’ll be sorely disappointed. This is the sound of a man finding his way; at times in a very silly way. But it’s also great fun in parts once you’ve lit the joss sticks and thrown your multi-coloured scarf over the lamp.

7

Anthony Clark