Tag Archive: Johnny Rotten

Love Kills

Sid Vicious

Sid Vicious

The entire pathos of punk in the 1970s – the clothes, the music, the attitude, the excess, the animalistic urge, everything – can be summed up in two words: Sid Vicious.

Sid Vicious started life as John Simon Ritchie in Lewisham, a district of southern London. Rumor has it that when Vivian Westwood suggested to Malcolm McLaren that he get a guy who hung around the Sex boutique named John to be the lead singer of the Sex Pistols, she was not talking about John Lydon, but Sid Vicious. When McLaren booted out Glen Matlock from the bass position, he recruited Vicious despite the fact that he had never played bass.

In fact, Sid’s bass skills were so lacking that he only actually plays on one track of Never Mind the Bollocks, that being “Bodies,” and on the rest Steve Jones plays both bass and guitar. But according to Keith Levene, he picked it up with alarming speed because of his incredible focus. One night he sat down with the first Ramones record, playing to it over and over again through the night. In the morning, he was a bass player.

The movie Sid & Nancy, directed by Alex Cox, is one of the only silver screen depictions of Sid. The titular roles are played by Gary Oldman as Sid and Chloe Webb as Nancy Spungen, Sid’s girlfriend. After an initial meeting where Nancy (already a junky) is supposed to score some drugs for Sid, Nancy then introduces Sid to heroin before they have sex – all with a very bored Johhny Rotten in the room. From then on, they’re a pair. The only thing that separates them is the Sex Pistols going on a tour of the United States. And all along, they’re going in a wide and uncontrollable downward spiral; things get bad, then real bad, then real bad, and then the absolute worst.

The film has been the subject of a lot of controversy; Johnny Rotten in particular says it romanticizes heroin addiction, playing as merely the catalyst for the love that existed between Sid and Nancy. The famous scene at the end where Sid gets in a cab and finds Nancy (no longer gross and desiccated but in a white dress) and they go riding off in the distance is said by many to be the epitome of irresponsible filmmaking.

I respectfully disagree. The centerpiece of the entirety of Sid & Nancy is the love between the two central characters. Yes, they were heroin addicts, but I think the film is suggesting their love couldn’t really be complete and functional until they were off of heroin. Now, that point came after they were both dead, but in that, the film might also be suggesting that love is bigger than our temporal world. And as for romanticizing heroin use, you only have to look at any moment from the entire rest of the movie to see that heroin use is bad news. According to Sid & Nancy, there is absolutely nothing glamorous, fun or minutely redeemable about heroin.

I want to make something very clear, though. Sid and Nancy loved each other, but everything about that was horrible. There is much to be said about the positive and transcendent nature of love, but we almost always forget that love, like anything else in the hands of humans, can be an extremely negative force as well. The love between Sid and Nancy didn’t get them anywhere they wanted to go, but instead took them to increasingly worse and worse places. The same energy that fueled their love for each other also fueled their addictions. What’s worse, their individual addictions became more than the sum of their parts when added together, much like a marriage. It even fueled an apparent suicide pact they had forged. What Sid & Nancy brings out for me is that love is incredibly powerful, and just as it has the power to heal, build and create, so does it have the power to completely destroy.

Nancy Spungen

Nancy Spungen died in the Chelsea Hotel in Manhattan from bleeding to death from a stab wound to the stomach. It’s not certain, but Sid probably murdered her. He woke up from a drug stupor to discover her body on the bathroom floor, blood all over the hotel room. Of all the ways of murdering somebody, Sid’s murder of Nancy is the least malicious and most tragic. In the police interviews, Sid himself said, “I never stabbed her. I loved her, but she treated me like shit.” He later said he didn’t remember what happened, but she may have fell on the knife while he was holding it. What it really comes down to is that I don’t believe for a second that Sid had murder in his heart, at least not the cold-blooded, purposeful taking of a life which we stereotypically think of as murder; he just wasn’t capable of it.

Ten days after Nancy’s death, Sid tried to kill himself by slitting his wrists. He was taken to Bellvue Hospital to recover, and made bail from his murder arrest in February of 1979. The day after he got out of jail, Sid and his mother Anne were at a party to celebrate his bail. Anne gave him a fatal dose of heroin at that party, as she admitted to journalist Alan Parker near the end of her life. According to a suicide note left by Sid, he was fulfilling a suicide pact with Nancy. The whole story is just very, very sad, in every sense of the word.

Sid’s life and death represented the life and death of punk music, or rather punk in its Platonic, virginal form. Sid was more than just the bass player for the biggest punk band that ever existed – Sid WAS punk. After Sid, there was no more punk. I think something was lost that the music world can never get back. Blink-182 and NOFX and Rancid and Less Than Jake can put on a good show and rock as hard as the day is long, but they’re not punk. Nor should they be. Sid is dead, punk is dead, and it’s time to move on.

Next: bound for hell, and loving every second of the trip.

The Sex Pistols always saw the negative side of things; to them, that’s all there was. It’s not real surprising. England in general was not a great place to be growing up in those days. London, where the Sex Pistols saw their rise to prominence, was particularly bad. There was trash on the streets, abusive police, and rampant unemployment. Opportunities were virtually nonexistent, thanks to the decrepit schooling system. John Lydon says:

Everybody was brought up with an education system that told you point blank that if you came from the wrong side of the tracks…then you had no hope in hell and no career prospects at all.

Thusly, the Sex Pistols’ monumental attitude problems are at least understandable, if not condonable. If life hands you lemons, you make lemonade, but what if life hands you dog crap?

One thing is perfectly clear, though. The world has let the Sex Pistols down. And by that I don’t mean just that they didn’t get that promotion at work or someone cut in line in front of them at McDonald’s. I don’t even mean they haven’t been able to live out their dreams – they don’t even have an American Dream to be disappointed by, ‘cause they’re British. Yet even so, they’re famous rock stars now (except Sid Vicious…) so the world treated them pretty well after they complained about it. Could that be all it takes?

In the opener to Never Mind the Bollocks, “Holidays In the Sun,” they filter their angry feelings of disillusionment through a political lens. There’s much talk of going “over the Berlin Wall” in this song. The Berlin Wall can be used as a rich metaphor for separation, differences in ideology or philosophy, and violent defense of one’s politics. Likewise, the metaphorical tearing down of that Wall is often seen as a coming together, and a celebration of freedom. That’s what the actual destruction of the Berlin Wall was about for a lot of people. But for the Sex Pistols (who released “Holidays In the Sun” a full 12 years before the Berlin Wall came down), it’s a metaphor for all the ways life has disappointed them. Back in 1977, East Germany had installed a socialist government that was very wary of West Germany and it not being completely “de-Nazified.” So what was their solution? Build a wall and shoot anyone who tries to cross it. You had an oppressive socialist government on one side of the wall, and a destabilized Nazi regime on the other. Going “over the Berlin Wall,” no matter which side you started on, wasn’t a real good idea. You’re not going to be better off on either side.

But like with “Bodies,” I don’t think the Sex Pistols were very interested in the Berlin Wall itself, just the radical and polarizing emotions the use of that imagery foments. Back in those days, everybody had an opinion on the Berlin Wall, and it was that energy the Sex Pistols wanted to use.

In “No Feelings,” they express disdain for the misanthropic, self-centered attitude that is so prevalent among punks in the late ‘70s. At first glance, this song seems to revel in that violent sort of sociopathy, but a closer listen reveals a subtlety that’s pretty great. Cuts are always more cutting when you don’t see them coming. The cynicism of “I’ve got no emotion for anybody else / You better understand I’m in love with myself!” might seem horrible on the surface, but it’s soon followed by “my beautiful self-ish!” I see what ya did there…

If John Lydon is being subtle and ironic in “No Feelings,” that aesthetic is completely abandoned in “New York.” On the general level, the Sex Pistols are addressing the fakeness they see rampant in America, but Lydon is really expressing his hatred for the New York Dolls.

The New York Dolls was an American proto-punk band who had their day right before the Sex Pistols, and were unofficially managed by Malcolm McLaren, mastermind behind the Sex Pistols. They had a very high sense of pageantry, dressing up in ridiculous drag. In my opinion, when a musical act pays a whole lot of attention to how they look, it’s because they don’t have the musical chops to back it up. Look at KISS… But that is neither here nor there. The New York Dolls were right on the cusp of the glam rock they celebrated in their look and the golden age of punk they helped bring about, two things that are apparent opposites. They’re notable because they were walking a very fragile line.

well, you’ve got a bloody cheek…

A close second for Most Famous Sex Pistols Song is “Anarchy In the U.K.,” after “God Save the Queen.” “Anarchy” features the extremely provocative lines “I am an anti-Christ! / I am an anarchist!” The song talks about anarchy in a romantic way, with anarchy being not a political position but a philosophical ideal that the singer wishes to attain. Lydon sings so much about wanting to be an anarchist, but I wonder if this is because he just can’t completely bring himself to actually be an anarchist. Also, given that this is an established pattern for the Sex Pistols (“No Feelings” being the support), I wonder if this whole anarchy thing could be a subtle criticism of those who actually want to see it all burn. The final cry of “DESTROY!!!” makes me look at it saying “really?” I think this could be another case of Lydon being his sarcastic, snarky self again.

And then at the cap of Never Mind the Bollocks, we have one last blast of hate, this one directed at the music industry. “EMI” is a pretty scathing criticism of the British music publishing company that shares a name with the song. EMI basically controls British music, not with an iron fist but a velvet glove. As if to maximize the space that he has to insult anyone he can, Lydon takes the last 2 seconds of the record mention A&M, the Hollywood record label. The Sex Pistols had signed with A&M, but on March 16th, 1977 A&M abruptly terminated the deal, presumably over the Sex Pistols’ flagrant disrespect for the British crown and the political situation it was bound to create. Several thousand copies of “God Save the Queen” had to be destroyed.

Next: Sid and Nancy, taking a taxi into the Great Beyond…

The Sex Pistols

The Sex Pistols

The Sex Pistols were not into making overt political statements. They weren’t passionate about any causes, and weren’t backing any particular politicians. They were, however, interested in shocking people. There’s value in using your art to force people out of their accepted patterns in order to listen to what you have to say. But where so many shock artists (including the Sex Pistols) trip up is that you need to be actually saying something. It’s one thing to get everybody’s attention – any idiot with a couple pounds of ammonium nitrate can do that. There has to be something behind it or you won’t have people’s attention for very long.

Nowhere is the Sex Pistols brand of shock more, well, shocking than on the song “Bodies.” It’s the account of a girl named Pauline who had an abortion. By that I don’t mean she went discreetly to a clinic and had it done by a doctor. The song never really says this outright, but I have a feeling a coat hanger was involved.

John Lydon wrote “Bodies” about an actual girl named Pauline that he knew. There’s a legend about Pauline showing up at John’s door with blood all over her, clutching a newborn in a blanket, dead. Whatever the truth is, John was obviously very affected by his association with Pauline, such that he wrote his most violent, vitriolic and profanity-laced song ever.

The lyrics of “Bodies” explain in gruesome terms about Pauline’s multiple “abortions,” always emphasizing that she was completely insane. The line “Her name was Pauline, she lived in a tree” is a reference to Pauline sleeping in a makeshift treehouse on the grounds of the mental institution she was in. The lyrics also make much of the messy and disgusting physicality of her actions, using words like “gurgling,” “squirm” and “bloody mess.”

Johnny Rotten

Johnny Rotten

The chorus is generally just repeated screams of “Mommy! I’m not an animal!” The easiest way to interpret this is the aborted child speaking, begging for its mother to not abort it. Lydon’s use of the term “animal” is a little strange. Apparently, the child doesn’t deserve to be aborted because it’s “not an animal,” but Pauline herself is described as an animal. Apparently, what makes you an animal, and thus deserving of abortion, is actually having an abortion. It’s also ironic that towards the end of the song, Lydon is repeating “I’m not an animal!” so fast that the words just tumble out, and his voice makes him sound rather bestial.

At first, the harsh language about abortion suggests the Sex Pistols are making a comment about the subject. But listening for just a second reveals that the comment can’t be pinned down to a pro or con position. Based on this, I don’t think they really care about the positions; they’re much more interested in the violent, gruesome and disturbing imagery that abortion very easily lends itself to. The Sex Pistols aren’t really raising a question about abortion, or about anything; that’s not what they do. They create exclamation points, not question marks.

When “Bodies” is mentioned in a scholarly context, it’s sometimes touted as a pro-life song. I find this utterly ridiculous, and I’m sure the Sex Pistols would as well. First off, not a single pro-life organization out there would accept this as an anthem  because its focus is all wrong. The term “pro-life” (as ridiculous and wrong-headed as I find it to be) is oriented in the “life” direction, and “Bodies” is all about death.  Then there’s the fact that it mentions the word FUCK five times in the space of ten seconds. Objectively, the song is not fit for public consumption. And when John Lydon swears, he means it. Somehow, Lydon saying “fuck” is much, much worse than anyone else saying it.

When I was a senior in high school – at a school of 18 students which taught an extremely conservative (and thus imbalanced) curriculum – I had to write a 30-page research paper in order to graduate. In preparation, we read papers by other seniors who had already graduated. I read one that was on abortion. It detailed the history of abortion, explained several different types, and gave a step-by-step description of what physically went on with the procedure of each one. Even separated from all the political, moral and ethical issues connected to it, it’s still pretty horrifying.

Kermit Gosnell

Kermit Gosnell

I don’t care what you think about the pro- or con- positions, which side you come down on, or how vehemently you defend either viewpoint. Abortion is not only one of the most hotly contested issues of our day – it’s also one of the most complicated. But you just have to be a living, breathing, feeling human being to understand something like this. Everyone, no matter what side of the abortion issue they’re on, has some sense of what Kermit Gosnell did being wrong. And if you are one of those feeling human beings, you need to ask yourself if all that rhetoric about a woman’s right to choose or violation of the freedom of religion even matters in light of the cold, hard facts of what happens in an abortion. You have to make up your own mind about it.

Next: everything sucks!

Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks - 10/27/1977

Sex Pistols – Never Mind the Bollocks – 10/27/1977

Frank Zappa once said, extremely derisively, that punk was not a genre of music, but a fashion statement. He went on to explain why this was true: it had been created not by a bunch of musicians, but by a clothing store proprietor. He was referring to the most visible aspect of punk, being the ripped jeans and t-shirts, safety pin earrings, leather jackets and outlandish hairstyles, most of which involve long hair sticking up in various directions.

While ol’ Frank was being a little obtuse, he was right about one thing: the fashion that’s instantly recognizable as “punk” was purposefully created by a clothing store co-owner named Malcolm McLaren. He and his partner Vivian Westwood managed a store called Let It Rock, which focused on the ‘50s-era rock and roll Teddy Boy look. They later it changed to Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die, selling Marlon Brando clothes to attract the young rocker crowd. When the mid-‘70s came around, they changed it yet again to Sex, specializing in punk clothes.

Malcolm and Vivian were described by Johnny Rotten as “a pair of shysters: they would sell anything to any trend that they could grab onto.” Apparently, what I said about record executives goes for clothing store owners, too. Malcolm also dabbled in band management. After informally managing the New York Dolls in 1975, he threw himself into a local band who hung around Sex, called the Strand. McLaren would later rebrand them the Sex Pistols.

Johnny Rotten

Johnny Rotten

John Lydon (later Johnny Rotten) was another one of those layabouts at Sex, brought in by McLaren to sing for the Strand. He walked into Sex wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt with “I HATE” scratched in above the words in marker; it was ripped in two then held together with safety pins. McLaren took one look at him and said, “that’s the guy.” He had already booted out the lead singer (the band was then called QT Jones & the Sex Pistols). Johnny’s voice sounded like a length of razor wire being drawn across violin strings – exactly what McLaren wanted.

All the resentment, anger and malcontent that had been building in London over the past 10 years were reaching a breaking point, and it started breaking in 1975. At that particular time, London was a really crappy place to live, and what became known as “punk” was brought to the forefront. But it didn’t enjoy the type of success that means lots record sales and concert attendance. Rather, the world was watching while young people all across Britain were working themselves into a tizzy. Malcolm McLaren had positioned himself to provide the visual look of the movement with Sex, and the Sex Pistols provided the soundtrack.

Arguably, they weren’t the only ones. There was the Clash in England, as well as the Ramones and X in the United States. While important to the movement overall, none of those bands have the visceral nature or raw negativity of the Sex Pistols. When you listen to Never Mind the Bollocks, you really believe that they wanted to see the whole world burn. They hated everything, from capitalism to the British monarchy to the very music industry they were participating in. They hated the United States, governmental control, materialism and Christianity. They even hated fellow punks.

The most grievous and damaging slight they had to offer, though, was to the British crown. “God Save the Queen” was their third single, released before their debut album. It came around after the Sex Pistols already had the world’s attention, and they used that platform to say what they really thought of the their country’s monarchy. “God Save the Queen” is a blazing and angry comment about England’s conformity and allegiance to the crown. The snarling and hateful disrespect of the lyrics is pretty startling. And the viciousness wasn’t lost on the British public. The song outraged virtually everyone; it was boycotted in several chain record stores; BBC refused to play it, along with every independent radio station; workers at the factory where the album was pressed even laid down their tools. In light of Britain’s somewhat draconian attitudes about slander towards the Royal Family, I’m surprised the Sex Pistols weren’t hanged for treason.

“God Save the Queen” is more than just dirty words about Queen Elizabeth II. It’s also a pronouncement of the hopelessness and cynicism embodied by the punk movement. The refrain of “no future for you!” concisely captures this attitude – they mean that literally. Music had been this negative before, and it had also had the power to change things socially and politically, so that’s nothing new. But the change the Sex Pistols wanted to bring about wasn’t good. If they had had their way, society would look very different now.

Next: Oh no they didn’t…

I’ve already established that Mick Jagger is one cheeky bastard. Here’s a case in point. The Rolling Stones’ relationship with Decca Records had become downright toxic. It was mostly Decca’s fault, though Mick and Keith’s youthful screw-authority attitude didn’t help. In 1970 they were nearing the end of their contract, but they needed to submit one more single. The Stones dutifully recorded it, but as a final act of passive aggressive defiance, they titled the song “Cocksucker Blues,” knowing with certainty that it would be rejected by the label. Reject it they did, though they did finally release it in 1983 as “Schoolboy Blues.”

I’m just gonna roll right past the equating of “schoolboy” with “cocksucker.” Life’s too short.

The tendency to give a middle finger to anybody who tries to tell you what to do has never made complete sense to me. Some sense, mind you, but the logic breaks down. Determining whether my middle finger is an appropriate gesture involves analyzing what they’re telling me to do. Let’s say they’re commanding me to eat chocolate. “You’re gonna eat these Lindt truffles, young man, and you’re gonna LIKE it!” No argument here. But say that to someone like Mick Jagger, or Johnny Rotten, or Abbie Hoffman, and they might respond with a “fight the power!” or a “no forcible truffles!” or a “hell no, we won’t go!” Meanwhile, I’m going, “It’s chocolate; I was gonna eat it anyway.”


Granted, I don’t like someone taking a rude or dismissive tone with me, regardless of what their requesting. Courtesy and politeness never hurt, ever. It’s at least metaphorically true that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. While I’m always found that phrase to be pretty stupid – what fly likes vinegar? I mean, come on! – it’s generally true.

Mick knows all about honey. He has a gift for sweetening his words and charming people into illogical acts. He’s probably had enough sex to tide over 10 men for their whole lives, despite the fact that he’s monstrously ugly. Keith, on the other hand, never quite got the concept of charming the masses. He always had more mystique that Mick; he was the enigma behind Mick’s obviousness. When Keith took the lead, it was normally to put forth some truth that had evaded Mick, and it was always interesting, if not always good.

“Happy” is a Keith song, mostly recorded without Mick even in the room. Mick intrudes on the proceedings for a few lines in the chorus, but this is really Keith’s song, and probably his best. While the music is rockabilly style, excited and intense, Keith’s words are laced with melancholy and longing. He wails “I need a love to keep me happy,” suggesting his happiness is a fleeting thing at best. One thing Keith has always been is self-aware and wise. It’s wisdom born out of a long and uninterrupted string of colossal mistakes, but wisdom nonetheless.

“Turd On the Run,” icky title notwithstanding, is another excited blues rock song. It’s seething with nervous energy, like it really is on the run. In the tradition of Hendrix’s “Hey Joe,” it’s about a man who punishes his woman for her wayward ways. “Ventilator Blues” follows, slowing things down considerably. Like the transition earlier in the album from “Rip This Joint” to “Shake Your Hips,” this one has the exact same change from arms-in-the-air wildness to stalking-jungle-cat menace.

The double album caps off with one last rock tune, the stomping “Soul Survivor.” This song spells out that even though they’re clearly self-destructive and rushing headlong into danger, the Stones are going to live on. They’re like cockroaches, stubbornly surviving the rise and fall of the ages. Near their 70s now, they’ve toured mercilessly and remained one of the most popular concert acts for the last 10 years, despite only releasing one new album with 2005’s A Bigger Bang. That’s both a testament to the state of modern music and the incredible staying power that the Stones have.

It’s kinda not fair, really. They’ve exhibited such bad behavior basically ever since they first became famous. Why has karma not caught up to them yet? Will it ever? My one consolation is that their faces all look like old leather shoes on the verge of being chucked in the garbage.

Next: Angela Davis and the political bandwagon.