By 1970, the Summer of Love was over, the cultural revolution had soured, and a new sordid excess set in. Some blokes in England decided to salvage all the makeup that liberated women had thrown away; they screamed hurrah for the... [more]

By 1970, the Summer of Love was over, the cultural revolution had soured, and a new sordid excess set in. Some blokes in England decided to salvage all the makeup that liberated women had thrown away; they screamed hurrah for the fake and threw out the folked-out phase of rock 'n' roll. With one foot in disco's crib and the other in punk's, the glam rockers rose above the audience, dressed to dazzle. They strutted along the gender divide, glorying in sexual and stylistic artifice. Stardom was the ultimate goal, but the Glitterati were damned if they were going to do it the hard way: they were stars by definition. Glam rock was all about pop. It was self-centered, self-conscious, self-reflexive, and self-parodic. Fanciful clothes and theatrical makeup primed the all-important surface of glam; its attitude was a deliberate bubblegum amateurism with an arrogant profile; the sound was a classic, stomping, four-four meter. David Bowie and Marc Bolan of T. Rex were glam's poster-boy idols, with Gary Glitter cashing in on the trend. Slade, Sweet, and Roxy Music solidified glam's place high up on the charts. Alice Cooper and Kiss took it to the extreme, added an unhealthy dose of shock value, and won the hearts of young Americans. Glam lived fast and died young, but its legacy lived on: Queen, Joan Jett, and the big-hair-and-makeup hard rockers of the '80s are its bastard children. [show less]