My least favourite of T Rex's quartet of chart toppers, 'Telegram Sam' finds Bolan embracing Glam Rock (and all that Glam Rock entails) with a great big hug that laid a curates egg of a song. We've been here before. Sort of. The 'Get It On' riff is recycled and beefed up until it crunches with a glam rock fizz, an adrenalin rush that tries so very hard to gloss over the nonsensical lyrics by making it's volume a statement by itself. Tries, but nobody is passing the cigars around on this. Gone is the seductive billing and cooing of 'Hot Love' and 'Get It On' itself and in it's stead come 'Jungle Faced Jake', 'Golden Nose Slim' and the rest of the gang, a roll call of in jokes that deprive the song of any emotional anchor or point of reference. True, the self effacing "I ain't no square with my corkscrew hair" raises a wry smile, but even a Bauhaus cover that put it through their twitchy Goth machine couldn't disguise the fact that these lyrics are by and large horrid.
Being workmanlike pop that's as disposable as a Bic,'Telegram Sam' is the sound of Captain Bolan partying with the cabin crew while the plane is left circling a holding pattern on autopilot. What was it I said about complacency?
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