Tyrannosaurus Rex
Unicorn

THE REVIEW

An hippy, somewhat dandy, finds himself, since the end of the 60s, in the middle of the woods of "A Midsummer Night's Dream," bringing with him a bit of the charm of the Victorian era and the spirit of the junk dealer. Quite singular, this Marc Bolan, who, aboard his unicorn and with his acoustic guitar, seems to traverse this fairy-tale landscape leaving behind (like Hansel's breadcrumbs) sixteen precious "haikus", so that even the listener can follow him and retrace his steps. 

In this enchanting and fairytale album, English folk marries a splash of '50s rock, Donovan-style ballad, and psychedelia for a result that is only seemingly carefree; it is, in reality, almost a spiritual experience sung by Bolan with justly mystical and dreamy traits, also thanks to his slightly androgynous voice with an exquisitely retro taste. The tracks of "Unicorn," all rather short, envelop softly and fascinatingly, sometimes as simple as a nursery rhyme ("The Seal of Seasons"), sometimes dense with mystery on the verge of unsettling - without quite falling into it ("Pon a Hill", the shortest song of the collection, and "Stones of Avalon", where the persistent singing almost becomes a litany). There is room for cheerful ballads, like the subdued "She was born to be my unicorn", or even vaguely epic, like the beautiful "The Misty Coast of Albany", or for romantic bursts not immune from the influence of the more "pataphysical" Beatles ("The Throat of Winter", "Like a white Star..." - with a wonderful, captivating almost country-like tail - and "Evenings of Damask", which showcases a sound that today is heavily plundered and sold as new, lively and carefree British pop... Who said Old Man River?).

But Bolan also anticipates future glam plots, as in the memorable "Cat Black" and the rhythmically dadaist "Warlord of the Royal Crocodile" (part of the same recording sessions also includes the astonishing electric "King of the Rumbling Spires," later released as a single and included in some reissues as a bonus track, perhaps the most epic and fairy-tale glam track ever), just as he does not deny being an incurable dandy and aesthete, placing his very gentle and charming homage to the ethereal dancer/choreographer Nijinsky ("Nijinsky Hind"). All this lost amidst minimal yet imaginative and varied sounds (besides the guitar, the percussion of the other Tyrannosaurus Rex, Steve Peregrin Took, slight hints of piano and hurdy-gurdy...).

One would almost want to seriously lose oneself in this world... and here comes the finale of "Romany Soup": five minutes of pure narration and persistent refrains, almost to remind us that, after all, it is still a fairy tale. Would that heaven had granted a deserved happy ending for good Marc as well.