Makes You Blind — a shimmering yet shadowed moment from the heart of 1970s glam rock
When you slip “Makes You Blind” on the turntable — or press play in whatever modern way you prefer — what greets your ears isn’t the polished pop sheen of a Top 10 single but something raw and heartfelt, a song that carries both the swagger of its era and the quiet pang of introspection. Performed by The Glitter Band, this track may not have conquered the British charts like some of their earlier hits, but it found a resonance of its own, reaching No. 91 on the US Billboard charts and becoming the band’s most notable American single success.
The story behind “Makes You Blind” is rooted in a time of transformation — not just for the band, but for rock music itself. Emerging originally as the backing band for Gary Glitter, The Glitter Band quickly carved out its own identity in the early 1970s, leaning into the glam rock explosion with drum-heavy rhythms, bold brass, and a style that married pop hooks with rock swagger. Their catalogue boasts several UK hits throughout 1974–1975, including “Angel Face” and “Goodbye My Love”, which climbed high on the charts at home.
Yet by the time “Makes You Blind” arrived in the mid-1970s as part of the album shared under the same name — released internationally (and also known as Listen to the Band in some markets) — the glitter was beginning to dull. The band had lit up stages and radios with brass-laced beats and confident refrains, but audiences were shifting, tastes were evolving. This song, placed among ten other tracks on the record, reflects that moment of both confidence and uncertainty.
There’s a feeling in the title itself — “Makes You Blind” — that speaks to love and illusion, to the way the heart can be dazzled by brightness and overlook what truly matters. It’s a sentiment that anyone who has ever looked back on a youthful passion, only to see now what they could not see then, will understand. The Glitter Band wraps it in a catchy beat and shimmering arrangement, but underneath rests a simple emotional truth: sometimes what dazzles us most is precisely what keeps us from seeing clearly.
When I listen to this track now, decades after its initial release, I’m struck by how it sits between eras — between glam rock’s bold flourish and the quieter introspection that music would return to in later years. It doesn’t roar with the certainty of an anthem like “Angel Face”, nor does it demand attention with bravado. Instead, it lingers, almost like a whispered confession woven through brass and rhythm — a song that feels as much as it sounds.
For those who lived through the ‘70s, or who first discovered it in later years, “Makes You Blind” evokes memories of smoky clubs and radio stations spinning the latest grooves, afternoons when music felt like a companion, a voice articulating emotions too complex for everyday words. It brings to mind the golden warmth of youth — the confidence, the confusion, and that delicious blend of hope and heartache that each new love brings.
And even though it didn’t soar into the upper reaches of the pop charts, the song has a quiet kind of immortality: in the way its melody lingers, in the way its words take shape in memory long after the music fades, and in the way it reminds us of those moments in our own lives when we were blinded by something beautiful and irresistible.
“Makes You Blind” stays with you — not as a blockbuster hit, but as a glowing shard of cherished musical history, a moment when glam rock’s shine met the introspection of the human heart.