Welcome to 1972...
For the last 18 months, a sense of fun has gradually been squeezing out the worthy musical explorations of the recent blues boom. “Underground” spirit lives on in the likes of Hawkwind, 1972’s unlikeliest chart stars. For the most part, however, the year’s most successful music is colourful and boldly stated.
The dominant music listener is no longer the serious university undergraduate, but the teenager, who propels a flashy and addictive version of rock’n’roll revivalism into a popularity unseen since The Beatles. 1971’s messiah, Marc Bolan, is the year’s biggest seller, but his elfin head lies uneasy under the crown.
Our cover star, David Bowie, instantly presents a more serious proposition. He writes, performs and inspires frantic adoration for his theatrical rock. He even rejuvenates careers – a service he performs this year for Mott The Hoople, Iggy Pop and Lou Reed. The papers call his music “camp rock”. Rod Stewart doesn’t know what to think.
Bowie balances his multiple roles with apparent ease, and the character of the year is altered irrevocably by him, as he changes musical trends, wields influence, and becomes a topic of everyone’s conversation. He is everywhere, or so it seems.
This is the world of The History Of Rock, a monthly magazine that follows the tremors of rock revolution as they mount in intensity. Diligent, passionate and increasingly stylish contemporary reporters were there to chronicle them. This publication reaps the benefits of their understanding for the reader decades later, one year at a time.
In the pages of this eighth issue, dedicated to 1972, you will find verbatim articles from frontline staffers, compiled into long and illuminating reads. Missed an issue? You can find out how to rectify that on page 144.
What will still surprise the modern reader is the access to, and the sheer volume of, material supplied by the artists who are now the giants of popular culture. Now, a combination of wealth, fear and lifestyle would conspire to keep reporters at a rather greater length from the lives of musicians.
At this stage, though, representatives from New Musical Express and Melody Maker are where it matters. Bitching about Bolan. Smoking with Lennon in New York. Watching Lou Reed’s ego run riot. “Everyone else is now at the point where
I was at in 1967,” says Lou in these pages. “Where will they be in five years?”
Join him here. Or even there. It’ll be good to rap together.
