Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress) (The Hollies)

Revisiting my mother's collection of singles again.
She owned a number of 45's by The Hollies, one of the many British Invasion bands of the early/mid-60s.  (I tend to think of that era as "The Beatles, The Stones, and miscellany.")  
On that note, I never really thought much of The Hollies.  I find most of their songs to be painfully lightweight.  For instance, I remember my mom had this one frothy pop tune called "On a Carousel," which I heard again for the first time in many years on an episode of Mad Men last season.  I believe she also had another single of theirs called "Look Through Any Window," which I accidentally broke as a toddler*.  And don't get me started on their abysmal "Air That I Breathe" from the mid-70s.  Had she owned that single, I probably would have "accidentally" smashed it, too.
But then there was the 1972 track "Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress)"—this taut, rocking number about an undercover FBI agent who falls in love with this tall, sexy lounge singer in the midst of some sort of Prohibition-era sting operation.  It was a helluva departure for the band and an interesting topic for a rock song.
That said, the G-man narrative isn't what grabs me.  To be honest, I couldn't understand half of the lyrics that frontman Allan Clarke was singing anyway.  (Earlier today, I learned the line that comes after She was a long, cool woman in a black dress is actually Just a 5'9" beautiful, tall, which refers to the woman's height.  I always thought it was something more poetic/metaphoric: Just a fine and beautiful song.  Who knew?)  
No, what draws me to the song is its bright, crisp Fender Telecaster sound.  That clean guitar tone simultaneously gives the track a bit of 50s throwback bop and early 70s crunch.
Poking around the Web, I've read various comments from actual music critics and armchair experts that Clarke was attempting to rip off Creedence Clearwater Revival's sound in order to score a hit.  And I suppose I hear the influence.  There's a touch of John Fogerty's "Green River" in the rhythm and riffing of "Long Cool Woman."  But I get more of a glam rock vibe, akin to T. Rex's "Bang A Gong (Get It On)," which came out the year before it in 1971.  Take a listen to them, back to back, and see what you think.

(*I broke a lot of my parents' 45's as a little kid.  Dozens.  But it was never done maliciously.
I would make up pop/rock songs of my own, and then I would pretend that my song was on one of those 45's.  I'd sit cross-legged on the floor, spinning the record on my knee—as if it were on a turntable, and use my index finger as the tone arm, all while imitating the sounds of an automatic record player, right down to the crackles, pops, and scratches of a vinyl record.
But the records didn't get broken just by me spinning them on my knee.  The destruction happened when I'd hop up abruptly, usually because my mom was calling for me or because I had to run to the restroom.  
It would go something like this: I'd attempt to stand up, one or both of my legs would be asleep, I'd lose my balance, and my knee would come smashing down on the record, cracking it in two.
...dozens.)