10 Days in 1977 – The last T.Rex tour

10 Days in 1977 – The last T.Rex tour.
Being Marc Bolan’s birthday today took me back to 1977, the last T.Rex tour. I was a sweet young teenager in 1977, at the age of 16 my parents had pulled me out of school to threw me into the workhouse. Mornings were cold in January 1977, a 7.30 am start was only brightened up by the hope every Wednesday or Thursday morning, when Sounds, NME and Melody Maker hit the shops.
There is was a 6 date tour announced for the middle of March, and the dates were such I could do it with just a little absence from the workhouse. Absenteeism was punished in those days by harsh beatings!
Planning has always been one of my obsessions so I set about planning my tour, I bought railway guides to plan the trains, hotel guides to plan my hotels. I had a cunning plan. Working in the workhouse and being a rather dull teenager had left me with a little cash, so I thought, I will stay in the best Hotel in each city, I’m bound to end up in the same hotel as Marc. Eventually I decided for fear of destitution and losing my position in the workhouse I would miss the first concert, Newcastle and do the remaining 5. This was later increased to 9 shows in total
Newcastle 10th
Manchester 11th
Glasgow 12th Postponed until 13th
Stoke 13th Postponed but never re-arranged
Bristol 14th
Birmingham 17th
London 18th
West Runton 19th
Portsmouth 20th

Manchester
The first show for me was to be Manchester Apollo, Friday 11th March 1977.
I set off with my mother’s green suitcase, leaving Leicester, via Stoke, so that I could be on the right journey back. I arrived at the Manchester Piccadilly Hotel at around 5pm. This was the most expensive hotel I had ever been in, a 5 star hotel, and at £17.10p per night it wasn’t cheap.
No sign of Marc or any of the usual Bolan fans, so I set off for the show.
I had seen T.Rex several times before but the support acts had been pretty dire in the past, this time when the Damned hit the stage I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears, this was a real change.
The show was great, as expected, a T.Rex has slimmed down from the Futuristic Dragon T.Rex the year before, but it didn’t matter to me which T.Rex it was. It was great.
I left the show and waited around outside the hall for a while, until most people had drifted away. A man left the Apollo and dropped his briefcase in the rainy street. I helped him pick up his papers, assuming he was from the entourage I asked him where Marc was staying, “Somewhere by the Airport, I think “was his reply. The man turned out to be Jake Riviera, the manager of the Damned, I didn’t know that then.
The next day I was due to take a fast train to Glasgow, (change at Preston). So I woke early and took a bus to the airport, (Manchester was a big city to a chicken like me) . By luck I found the hotel. I knew I was in the correct place as there were a couple of bitchy fans telling me to go away, they went leaving me alone. A while later out came Marc, alone but for his driver. I froze like a rabbit in the headlights, I didn’t know what to say, I got an autograph and regretted the time I was alone with Marc Bolan but could not say anything. At least a poor boy from the workhouse could afford 5 stars, unlike Marc only in 3 stars!
Glasgow
I got to Glasgow about 3 in the afternoon,(my first time abroad !!) the Hotel, only 4 stars this time. But only £12.00 per night, however there was a large crowd of Bolan fans waiting outside the door. I bet he’s here this time I thought as I smugly walk through the hotel entrance and check into my room. From my room I could hear “we want Marc” being chanted from the street below.
I stayed in my hotel most of the afternoon, and then went to the gig, it was a huge converted cinema, apparently the largest cinema in Europe, the tension mounted, fans waited with baited breath for the usual rush to the front.
Suddenly a young man with Bolan hair came and stood beside me, do you mind if I stand here he said, waiting to poise for his charge to the front. His name was Simon, later to be known as Simon Slider, who would become a good friend of mine.
Suddenly, an announcement, “Ladies and Gentlemen, unfortunately.........
It seems some daft roady had forgotten the cables and the show is off, for today at least, the show is re arranged for tomorrow, but what about Stoke ??? my plans ?? , my carefully schedule trains and coaches around the UK???. Oh well never mind!
Simon was touring with his friend Phil a policeman; they were touring in Phil’s car. They had been to Newcastle, they had discovered where the party was, they has been there, the one show I had missed... Bastards!!!!
It turned out Marc was staying in another Hotel, the other side of Glasgow, we spent all the next day searching, trying to get into the sound check etc.
The show finally happened as promised that day. After the show we did our stalking the stage door, followed by the entourage in Phil’s car to the Hotel. Now I got to meet Gloria Jones, and get her autograph.
It was then rumoured that the Damned were having a party in their hotel rooms, we were uninvited but determined to go, maybe Marc would be there!
So we gate crashed the party, I was a shy young teenager, just out of school, I had never met anyone famous before (except Roy Hudd at a garden fete in 1975), now I was on the bed drinking vodka with four pop stars, or that’s how it felt. After a while it became obvious Marc wasn’t coming. So we left.
Tomorrow we had the mammoth journey from Glasgow to Bristol in one day.
The second night in Glasgow hadn’t been planned and I had to check into a cheaper hotel. Simon and Phil slept on the chair or the floor.
Bristol
We woke up at 6 am and set off, by now we had acquired a fourth person, Pat a very nice girl from Broxtow, in Nottinghamshire.
So off we went, down the M6, we stopped at a service station near Preston and saw Mavis from Coronation Street, god, I was mixing with the stars these days !
We got to Bristol in good time, but not in time to check into my hotel, the Holiday Inn.
The show was great as usual. The next show wasn’t until Thursday in three days time; I was knackered but returned home feeling like I had lived for the first time.
I got told off at the workhouse for taking two days off but avoided a savage beating.
Birmingham
I left the workhouse at 4.50pm and was in Birmingham by 6.45pm. Simon and Phil were there as we had arranged, the show was great, we got crushed, but I always managed to get to the front at a Bolan gig, whenever I went to a rock gig in later life I never came across an audience as strong and determined as a T.Rex audience , and I always got to the front. Being petite, I managed to get through the gaps!
I hadn’t planned to stay in Birmingham, there was a late train and I had to show willing at the workhouse, it was payday the next day. So Simon and Phil left me at the station.
Now I was to get my biggest disappointment of all, as I say on that slow drafty train back to Leicester Simon and Phil were getting drunk in the toilets of Watford Gap Service station with Captain Sensible and MARC BOLAN!!! Double Bastards.
London
I finished in the workhouse at 12.30 pm on Fridays and with my pay packet and bag I boarded the train from Leicester to Saint Pancras and then to Finsbury Park where Simon and I were checking into a very nice cheap hotel. The concert at the Rainbow was a classic, what turned out to be the last ever concert by T.Rex in London and 5 years to the day after the “Born to Boogie” Wembley pool shows.
Also today was the day Dandy in the Underworld hit the shops, Simon had a copy.
West Runton
The next day was West Runton, the weirdest of all, set on the Norfolk coast in a cow shed a couple of miles from Cromer. It was, apparently a popular place for American Airmen and was the most intimate of shows , we got drunk, Simon got angry with a telephone box but had a great time, and a hangover.
Portsmouth
This was the last show ever by T.Rex in the UK, in a cheesy Mecca dance hall, the atmosphere was great, the damned came on stage for the encore, it was a significant moment.
After the show we tried following the tour bus but it was obviously heading back to London, so we turned back to Portsmouth and went to bed in our cheap guest house. I had gone from 5 star to no star in 9 days.
Phil actually lived in the Guildford area. He reported that the tour bus had in fact stopped at a service station just a few miles from where we had turned back. My chance to know Marc Bolan had slipped through my fingers again.
Six months later Marc died, I never knew him, only the person from the music and the interviews and stage, perhaps it’s better that way, they say never meet your heroes. By not knowing Marc, he remained perfect to me. But I gained a lot from those 10 days on the road, Simon became one of my best friends and introduced me to many important people in my life. Steev and Judy amongst others.
I also became friend s with the Damned, but that deserves another story.
And I discovered I loved adventure, an addiction I will never be cured of.
Terry Tanx 30 September 2009.