‘Angelheaded Hipster’ director Ethan Silverman on “revolutionary” Marc Bolan and his friendship with David Bowie
In his new documentary Angelheaded Hipster: The Songs of Marc Bolan & T Rex, Ethan Silverman details the recording process for the tribute album of the same name with a swathe of iconic musicians, a list of contributors that include U2, Joan Jett, Father John Misty, Nick Cave, Beth Orton and Devendra Banhart. Silverman does so while simultaneously painting a picture of the legendary singer-songwriter through a well-crafted expanse of archival footage.
When I spoke with Silverman last week, we talked about how the perception of Bolan has shifted in the five decades since he first burst onto the scene and how he was received differently in the United States, the land he’d once sought to conquer, versus his native Britain. There’s a passion in Silverman that once lay dormant, ignited through his research on Bolan after being introduced to the project by the longtime manager of The Who, Bill Curbishley.
At one point, Silverman knew little about Bolan and T. Rex despite having a good knowledge of music in general, particularly when it came to rock and roll. He, like most, knew the hits and Bolan’s connection to glam rock, but his legendary status felt like a “vague rumour in the background”. Having taken on the documentary and emerging from his initial research a few weeks later, Silverman couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“The sheer sound,” he expressed with excitement. “The style in the music was evident. It sounded very modern to me,” he added. Very, very modern – like, if these songs came out now, they would be really successful. I really felt that. And then I realised that he was a huge cultural moment that was completely missed in America. Completely and utterly. I started finding out how huge he was in the UK.”
It’s well documented in Angelheaded Hipster that Bolan had longed to take America by storm, having enjoyed such success in the UK, but ultimately seemed to struggle commercially. Pressing Silverman for an answer on why Bolan and T. Rex struggled in the US – excluding a small, cultish following – he admitted, “As an American, I can say we’re kind of culturally stupid and kind of unadventurous, especially at that time.”
The director continued: “The idea of a camp, gender-bending, wild way of looking at the world – even though homosexuality and bisexuality were legal at that time in the UK – there’s a tradition of eccentricity in English culture that we do not embrace. We are a much more puritanical society. Oddly enough, people say the British are uptight, but not when it comes to certain forms of expression.”
Indeed, expression is undoubtedly the right word to use for Marc Bolan, known for his glamour and eccentricity, but for Silverman, it appears that such eccentricities at the time in America were not as well perceived as they had been for the singer back at home in London. “I think the British are much more accepting,” he said. “We come up with ideas, but we don’t know how to take it far enough or are as willing to do that.” Alternatively, as Elton John puts it in the film, Bolan’s sound was simply “too wild for American radio.”
But even outside the wonderfully loud music, Bolan was crafting a creative vision that would play an imperative role in laying the groundwork for the increasingly queer-positive environments of today. Where he differed from his predecessors, though – for Silverman, Liberace and Little Richard – Bolan’s dressing up and androgyny was truly authentic and not merely the costume of a showman, and his status as an icon still strikes the hearts of those in contemporary queer and trans communities.
Silverman explained, “If you look at those kinds of people who were dressing up, even Little Richard, it was a character, his performance was so over the top. He was playing the character – not that it wasn’t authentic, and his music certainly was authentic – but for Marc, it was just an extension of his expression. It was very natural. It’s not like, ‘Hey, man, I’m wearing all this glitter on my cheeks and whatever,’ it was, ‘I am in touch with my feminine side.'”
“He didn’t create a character,” he went on. “I think that was him. I think that was very natural for him. And that’s what was revolutionary. I think young people today who are expressing themselves are not playing characters. They’re not putting out that they’re cartoon characters. They don’t think of themselves like that. They think, ‘I am in touch with my feminine side. I’m queer. I’m this; I’m however I identify in the world. It’s natural for me, and I have the right to do it naturally.’ And that’s where I believe Marc Bolan was revolutionary.”
Bolan was still “camping it up for showbiz” as the showman he truly was, but even when performing in such a then-outlandish and outrageous way, there’s a genuine sense of love and passion that shines through, not only on stage but in interviews too, as proven through the documentary’s well-constructed archival footage. “It feels like it’s coming from inside his heart as well as his imagination,” Silverman noted.
As a sexual icon of the 1970s, there was also a difficulty in Bolan having to traverse being the object of many underage girls’ sexual awakening, but Silverman suggests that Bolan was so much like his 1970s contemporaries and that “underage girls/fans weren’t his thing”. In fact, it’s through Angelheaded Hipster’s depiction of Bolan that a different portrait of the decade is generally painted.
One moment, he sees two young girls waiting for the singer outside his London office every day just for a chance to speak with him. “I used the extended cut of that because it’s so incredible,” Silverman said. One of the women, now grown and living in America, sent Silverman a letter after her friend caught his documentary and said of Bolan, “Marc was always sweet to us. He was always nice to us. Even if he was busy and annoyed, he never showed it.”
Silverman went on to explain: “She said an incredible thing in that no one has ever referred to the 1970s or to rock and roll in this way. ‘It was such an innocent time. And such a sweet time’. First of all, I got so scared when I saw the letter because I thought, ‘You didn’t ask my permission and I don’t like being in your film…’ but it was the opposite. She talked about how warm and sweet he was to these young, impressionable girls and what he meant to them. And it meant so much to her to be included in this film. I was so moved.”
This particular Bolan fanatic was not the only person to have been impacted by the early screenings. Silverman also detailed the account of an 18-year-old man who saw the film in London and attended the subsequent Q&A with the director. He said: “It was a lot of older fans who were there, and this young man was 18 – he said he didn’t really know why he was there, except he was curious.”
Silverman continued: “He said, ‘I’m leaving school and going to university next year, and I’m going to study design.’ And I said, ‘What do you want to design?’ And he said, ‘Clothes’. And I said, ‘Oh, it looks like you’re wearing something interesting. Why don’t you stand up and show everybody?’ So he did, and he had this great outfit on. And he showed everybody, and then he said, ‘I want to thank you for making this film. Because I am scared about the next phase of my life, seeing this film and being introduced to Marc Bolan and his creative process has given me the courage to go on and do what I want to do’.”
Silverman’s response to the young man was to tell him that he’s precisely the person he’d made the film for, having dreamt that Bolan could inspire today’s youth, as he did until his untimely death in 1977. “It just got to me when this kid stood up and said that it meant everything to him,” the filmmaker said. “I think that that’s what Marc cared about, too. I think he would have inspired a lot of people now.”
So that’s Bolan, the cultural icon, but what about the musician? Angelheaded Hipster primarily begins by documenting the tribute album production, and there are some excellent performances from an eclectic mix of stars. Though Silverman did not want to “pick a favourite”, hard pressed to single someone out, he couldn’t help but bring attention to Nick Cave’s haunting rendition of ‘Cosmic Dancer’.
“It was very meaningful, not only because he made such a great interpretation, and he’s a great artist, but because he did it before the project even really got off the ground,” he said. “He was willing to take a chance. He loved the song, and he loved Marc Bolan. So I am forever grateful to Nick for his artistry and his personality and his intelligence.”
“He showed faith in allowing himself to be filmed, which is not always easy,” the director continued. “When people are recording, a lot of artists are not open to that. So, any one of them who allowed us to record them with a camera as they were stumbling through their versions, I owe a lot; that’s a very vulnerable moment for recording artists, to be so dressed down and unplugged and unprotected.”
While Cave was indeed the most impressive behind the mic, it looked like Joan Jett had the most profound burning passion for Bolan, and she “related to him on a musical level that was very strong, because she herself was one of those girls,” Silverman explained. “As an adult and as a performer, she broke down barriers of gender identity too; she was a trailblazer.”
“So that’s very meaningful,” the filmmaker continued. “And it was emotional for her. Her persona is a little tough and street and all of that, but she is one of the kindest, warmest, most affectionate people. I knew getting Joan in the film would be meaningful because of what she represented to so many people for so many years.”
It’s almost impossible to talk about Marc Bolan without using the name David Bowie; so aligned are the two glam rock heroes to one another in cultural fabric and in song. For Silverman, their relationship is significant “because it’s the way people categorise the glam rock movement and the music of that time”.
Adding: “The fact that they were close friends – I think a lot of the press that has been built up over the years focuses on the rivalry, but I figured out very early on in my research that it was a very deep, very real, loving friendship in the beginning and at the end. Sure, there was that competitive middle, but they genuinely loved each other.”
Silverman had the good fortune to work with Bowie as a young man on the Broadway stage version of The Elephant Man and saw him as “so nice and warm and friendly and enthusiastic, which is something that never ever comes across”. Having actually met the music, fashion and film legend, Silverman wanted to portray “that side of his personality; more loving, friendly and enthusiastic, like Marc” rather than continuing to cement his perceived “Mr Cool” tag in place.
The Bowie-Bolan relationship blossomed in the early parts of their careers, even if a rivalry narrative rang true in the press at the time. “I’m sure they sniped at each other, and I’m sure they were jealous of each other,” Silverman said. “Marc had the first hit singles, which would have driven any competitive musician crazy, but David got the status in America and over the world, and that must have been difficult for Marc.”
But still, “David loved Marc, and Marc loved David.” The film closes with a moment of the pair laughing together shortly after Bolan makes a mistake when falling over during a live performance. Interestingly, the way the scene is perceived within the Bowie-Bolan urban legend is one of definitive negativity rather than being shown as two friends enjoying one another’s company, as it indeed seems in the shot.
“There are more comments saying that David is laughing at Marc, that David is making fun of him, and Marc looks ridiculous,” Silverman noted. “And I thought, ‘No, you look at that footage carefully. You see two best friends who are having a great time. One of them slips off a very low stage, and they both keep playing and keep laughing.’ To me, that moment is beautiful. But it’s not always been portrayed that way; people like to promote a negative spin. People like to say, ‘David stole from Marc, and Marc was jealous.’ The negative story is more interesting; everyone is drawn to the negatives. But, ultimately, their relationship was a completely positive one.”
Through Angelheaded Hipster, Silverman accomplishes many tasks. He weaves a narrative of Bowie and Bolan that strays from the overwhelmingly negative rivalry that so many believe existed whilst showing how Bolan influenced so many different realms of culture – identity, fashion, music and everything in between. By framing these micro-narratives alongside the recording of a tribute album, he also shows that Bolan will always live on through his songs, so many of which continue to blast from stereos and headphones even today, and likely, they will continue to do so for aeons to come, just as Bolan might have wished.
AngelHeaded Hipster: The Songs of Marc Bolan & T Rex is available on DVD and Blu-ray now.
