In any given year, few Record Store Day exclusives are worth the long lines or inflated prices. Sure, a select number of unearthed B-sides and overdue reissues reward the effort, but there's a whole swath of mediocre cover records destined to linger in the leftovers bin. So many of them read as easy cash grabs—not at all essential unless you're a superfan (because really, those are the only people clamoring to own the Foo Fighters' version of "Kids in America"). In 2011, Ty Segall offered an exception to that rule, releasing a covers EP that was worth buying and quietly stood as one of the best entries in his lengthy discography. Just that name alone, Ty Rex, was exciting—the promise that Segall at the top of his game would record a series of Marc Bolan covers. Now, the entire Ty Rex oeuvre is being issued in full (the original EP, its 2013 follow-up 7", and an unreleased bonus track). It's a good thing, too, because these covers demand a bigger audience.
Ty Rex arrived two months before Goodbye Bread, his most paced and subdued statement up to that point. He'd been touring behind Melted's giant-hook singles ("Girlfriend", "Imaginary Person", etc.), and he'd become very good at performing covers. His live sets usually featured his wide-eyed versions of hard rock staples (by Sabbath, AC/DC, and Motörhead, to name a few). His 2010 Daytrotter recording of G.G. Allin's "Don't Talk to Me" was an unhinged star turn. The expected move was for him to bring that same chaos to Ty Rex. But this time around, lizard-brained Segall took a step back. Instead, he showed restraint, recording an aesthetic stepping stone between the fuzz pop fury of Melted and the comparative lethargy of Goodbye Bread.
He didn't just run through the hits, either. It opens with "Fist Heart Mighty Dawn Dart", which appeared on the 1970 Tyrannosaurus Rex album Beard of Stars. Segall slows and steadies the pace, subbing out Micky Finn's Moroccan clay drums for the traditional rock'n'roll kit, and the vocal melody is smoothed out from Bolan's stilted chorus. Segall's groove is even more gradual on his reading of the 1968 track "Salamanda Palaganda", and the restraint gives every whimsical image—the old crones, the night eagles—the opportunity to fully sink in.
There's a posthumously released T. Rex record called Rabbit Fighter: The Alternate Slider, which features demos and acoustic versions of Slider songs. It's Bolan at his most restrained and pared back—proof that his songs were already gold before he slathered on the extra gilding (string sections, layered electric guitar solos, and so on). Ty Rex is also an album-length acknowledgment of Bolan's core strengths. Throughout, Segall plays it straight—the solos are never excessively flashy (sticking close to the originals) and the recording quality is slightly muffled. He never attempts a Bolan impression, either, and he largely forgoes any untethered Slaughterhouse wildness to play up Bolan's melodies, chord progressions, and absurd lyrics. He knows that you don't rewrite Shakespeare, and you don't attempt to outswagger one of rock'n'roll history's most confident heartthrobs.
Of course, it's a Ty Segall record, so he still brings some of that fire. His previously unreleased version of "20th Century Boy" is Ty Rex at its most fuzzy and abrasive, packing the record's most impressive, sky-high guitar solo. But every pound of rock'n'roll aggression is tempered by more withdrawn performances, like the slow burn of "The Motivator", "Cat Black", and "The Slider". That's what the best T. Rex records are like, too—for every "Rip Off", there a "Girl".
Clearly, Segall could do more than one installment of Ty Rex. During his Ty Rex set at Gonerfest 12, people went nuts at just the suggestion of "Bang a Gong". There are several reasons why Segall is well-suited to this material—he's a guitar hero and his voice is in exactly the right register. He's an excellent showman and a rock'n'roll screamer, but he can also emote behind his acoustic guitar. With his thoughtful, deft, and exciting performances, Segall also clearly has a reverence for these songs. As Segall works through Bolan's discography—from the early acoustic stuff to the big tent T. Rex singles—he's offering a convincing invitation to deep dive into Bolan's discography.
