September 1, 1996
Pistols perfection
Calgary Sun The 7,000 who came to the Pacific Coliseum last night were hoping for both -- catching the Sex Pistols at their cantankerous best at the final stop of their reunion world tour. The end of the Pistols came in 1978 in San Francisco. Soon after followed the death of Sid Vicious. But even though Sid died, the spirit of the Sex Pistols (more of a punk poltergeist) lived on. And now the original Pistols -- Johnny Rotten, Paul Cook, Steve Jones, and Glen Matlock (who was punted aside for Sid) -- were together again 20 years later on the Filthy Lucre Tour. It didn't matter if they weren't even born when the Sex Pistols broke up. Green hair, blue hair, mohawks and comb-overs -- they weren't going to miss it. Chris Yackel, 22, made the trek all the way from Calgary's southwest to see the Pistols with his pal Jamie Jackman, 19. Why? "I have loved the Pistols since junior high," said Yackel. "I came because I wanted to see if Glen Matlock could live up to the Sid I've seen in videos," he added. And for some, it was a family affair. Ron Allanson, 36, of Burnaby was waiting in line with his nine-year-old son Jordan. And dad was psyched for a good dose of anarchy. "I was 17 when I first discovered the Pistols. In high school there were always rumors they were coming to town. And I was prepared to sneak into the show to see them." And what did Jordan think of Pistols? "I've never heard of them." "Yes he has," interrupts dad. "He likes Iggy Pop and he knows the drummer, Paul Cook, from his work with Edwin Collins. Why did he bring Jordan? "I had to, this is history," said the elder Allanson. "If I could have seen Elvis Presley during his Vegas years -- if my parents had taken me -- I would have loved to go." For those wanting a momento of the show, there was a variety of souvenirs, including three different T-shirt styles ($30) and coffee mugs for $15. According to one of the vendors the biggest seller was the pink and yellow Never Mind the Bollocks T-shirt. August 20, 1996 Sex Pistols come back for second helping of TorontoJam! Showbiz
TORONTO - Johnny Rotten can be such a pain, especially if you're on a
date with him and his three bandmates. August 13, 1996 Sex Pistols make rave Canadian debutJam! Showbiz
TORONTO - They may be "fat, 40 and back," but England's Sex Pistols, the
founding fathers - or maybe grandfathers - of punk, appeared lean, mean and
tight in a raucous Canadian debut Monday at the Molson Amphitheatre. August 13, 1996 God save the Sex PistolsResurrected punk heroes spark anarchy in T.O.
Toronto Sun A lot of the guys in the mosh pit were balding. And it took all of 15 minutes for absolute pandemonium to break out. That's all that you really need to know about last night's wildly energetic Sex Pistols show at the Molson Amphitheatre, the first Canadian stop of the aptly-named Filthy Lucre reunion tour taken in by about 9,800 psyched-up fans. "Good evening Toronto!" yelled out two-toned, spikey-haired lead singer Johnny Rotten, three songs into the show. "As they say, enjoy or die!" Enjoy they did. Not only were people moshing at the front, tossing around toilet paper, running shoes and jean jackets - along with the occasional gob - the upper aisles were out of control as fans walked over people's heads to get closer to the legendary band. "You mean somebody out there likes us?" Rotten asked, acknowledging the crowd's apparent joy. "Well, don't be shy about letting us know." There was a reason for all the excitement. It was the first ever show in Toronto by Britain's original punkers and, okay, so they were a little late. The concert came 18 years after Rotten, now 40, walked off the stage at San Francisco's Winterland Ballroom, effectively ending the band's brief reign of terror over the music industry, the British monarchy and concerned parents everywhere. Rotten, smiling and much friendlier in his latest incarnation, was joined on stage last night by original guitarist Steve Jones, resplendent in shiny, Mylar pants, bassist Glen Matlock and drummer Paul Cook. The latter was banging away on a kit covered in Union Jacks with the words "Union League," referring to Britian's premier soccer league, on the front. "Oh, yes, I can hear you now," said Rotten, after the crowd responded favorably to the anthem God Save The Queen about halfway through the hour-long show. "You're beginning to show the Americans up." Truth be told, the older Toronto crowd showed way more Sex Pistols spirit than the younger audience that turned up for the band's North American launch of the tour in Denver two weeks ago. This time too, unlike Denver, the band managed to hoist up their huge cloth hangings of newsprint featuring old Sex Pistols stories from 1976. The headline "Punk - Call it Filthy Lucre" peered out from behind Rotten's formidable head. Call it whatever you want. It was good, sweaty fun. SUN RATING: 4 OUT OF 5 August 13, 1996 Pistols pack 'em in`Here we are, back by popular demand'
Ottawa Sun What would poor old junked-up Sidney -- whose short life was devoted to havoc and self-destruction, with a side order of anarchy -- have thought of his cohorts reuniting for big time jaunt through the corporate-sponsored bandshells of North America? And what is anyone whose attitude to music was shaped by the Pistols' uncompromisingly contrary moment of fame supposed to think now? "Well, here we are. Back by popular demand," singer Johnny Rotten leered at a crowd of 9,800 yuppies and well-scrubbed punks. Rotten seemed to delight in the irony. Celebrated and reviled in their time, but never big sellers outside the U.K., the Pistols are packing outdoor venues, performing their anthemic, decades-old rants as if they were lifestyle soundtracks. How did this happen? It needs to be said off the top that the Pistols sounded brilliant last night. The set, drawn from their solitary full studio album, Never Mind The Bullocks, Here's The Sex Pistols (with the b-side, Did You No Wrong and a cover of the Monkees' Steppin' Stone thrown in) was tight, fast and nasty. Rotten (nee Lydon) seemed sincerely delighted by the response. The lights picked up a barrage of gob launched his way as he smiled and declared, "You're beginning to show up the Americans." When a fan tossed an apple onstage, the singer asked: "Is this for the teacher?" It all went as smoothly and comfortably as any concert we've ever seen, and that made it all the more disorienting. Punk wasn't supposed to have a future. It was all about the impulse to destroy whatever was safe and complacent, and in 1976 (just like 1996), the fat-cat, rebellion-co-opting record industry was/is well worth bringing down. In their original incarnation, the Pistols created a sensation that clueless record labels couldn't resist. After paying them huge advances, those same labels had to turn around and dump the group in response to public outrage. They also made some epochal records. In a sense, the Pistols infiltrated the record business and used greed against itself. It was a beautiful subversion, and made a point that was more important than the modest chart figures they achieved. That's what's so disheartening about the idea of the Pistols doing the same nostalgia act that Styx, Kansas, the Doobie Brothers and Kiss are engaging in this summer. SUN RATING: 3 out of 5 Thursday, August 8, 1996 Abused by Johnny Rotten: the Jam! interview
Jam! Showbiz DENVER, COLO. -- Even in a season defined by its perverse lack of an overriding musical direction, the last two people on Earth whom you'd expect to have anything to do with each other are Gene Simmons and Johnny Rotten, the respective frontmen of the summer's two most talked-about reunions. Yet, here's the head Sex Pistol ("that's SIR Johnny Rotten to you," the inveterate monarchy-basher jokes when we're introduced) saying he not only likes the KISS leader, but actually partied with him recently in L.A. -- at a gay club called Rage. And what exactly was Simmons, the official poster boy for gaudy heterosexuality, doing in a gay club? "He was tickling my fancy," jokes Rotten, pacing restlessly around a hotel room the day after the opening date of the band's North American tour. ("Tickling his FANNY, more like it," guitarist Steve Jones chimes in from across the room.) It's hard to imagine Johnny Rotten and Gene Simmons being in the same ROOM together, let alone the same conversation. "I'm not a snob," says Rotten, making it clear that he detests KISS's music. "What people do musically is up to them. I can still deal with them on a one-to-one basis. "I mean, I hate Pink Floyd, but I really get on well with Dave Gilmour." (Ironically, Rotten got his first audition with the Pistols back in 1975 after future Clash manager Bernie Rhodes spotted him strolling down King's Road sporting an "I hate Pink Floyd" T-shirt.) "(Gilmour) is an adult, and he's able to cope with that. When people CAN'T cope with that," he adds, staring pointedly at me, "you know that deep down inside that they know there's something wrong about what they do." Now, as anyone who's read any of Rotten's blow-hard pronouncements over the years already knows, this charming "I'm OK, you're a jerk" routine is a staple part of his act. He glares, he insults, he verbally abuses and, if you betray the slightest sign of weakness, he moves in for the kill. On the other hand, if you take it for the essentially good-natured, albeit twisted, game that it is, you're pretty much guaranteed an entertaining ride. Herewith, then, some choice exchanges with Sir Johnny Rotten: Jam!: Do you think it's strange that North American audiences, some of whom weren't even born when the Pistols broke up, seem to break into fist-waving when you play God Save The Queen? Rotten: At least these kids are trying to make an effort to stand out. that's a lot better than buying Boyz II Men records, isn't it? Or blankly staring at MTV. Jam!: Is it? Boyz II Men are good singers. Rotten: Of course it's better! All that stuff is fodder for the masses. It has no content, no relevance. There lies the difference. The next step is what they TAKE from that and how they progress with that. But it's not for me to tell anyone how to do anything. I'm not responsible. I've done my bit, that's it, each to his own. Jam!: Okay, but don't you find it odd that last night's crowd, who probably don't know anything about the Queen, obviously got off on that particular song? Rotten: Yeah, but I think they probably relate the Queen to (Bill) Clinton or something similar. It's authority-busting, that's what that song is about. It's not exactly a personal attack on the Queen, but that INSTITUTION, and the monopoly it holds on people's lives. Jam!: I was surprised at how young the audience was last night. It was like being at a Green Day show. Rotten: I don't think it was a Green Day crowd at all. A Green Day crowd are kind of shabby looking. These kids were very young, but they weren't shabby and tattered looking. They were really quite firm and plump of breast. Jam!: You've always railed against conformity and for individuality. That's kind of been your whole thing. But don't you think there's a difference between feeling part of a community and blindly joining a mass movement? Rotten: It's not a mass movement. There's nothing wrong with feeling part of the human race and enjoying the idea that things could actually be changed for the better. Nothing wrong with that at all. That doesn't destroy your sense of individuality. That doesn't make you bleat like a sheep amongst the flock. Jam!: But if somebody bought into the current punk movement ... Rotten: I think that's really silly. Bands like Rancid, they amuse me greatly. They've got it all wrong. They think it's all about the clothes. There's no content there. Look, I can't be everything for everyone all the time. I can only tell you how I live my life, and you do what you want with yours. There's no great fascist dictatorship going on here. If people want to feel part of something, that's up to them. And me, myself and I have not really felt part of anything, ever. Jam!: But don't you think ... Rotten: Methinks you think too much. Why can't you just enjoy or not enjoy? Take things as they are. This is the trouble with journalists. You all think of yourselves as being intelligent, but actually you're not. You're quite stupid. Jam!: You think it's possible that an entire group of people can all be stupid? Rotten: You miss the basic principle of life. Where's your instinct gone? It's a stupid career move, period. Talking about other people's efforts in a belligerent tone is not pleasing. Jam!: You think this is belligerent? I'm not being belligerent. Rotten (smiling): You will be. At this point, as is his wont, Rotten makes one of several increasingly theatrical exits -- only to reappear 20 seconds later. Jam!: You've said the Pistols are every bit as relevant now as they were 20 years ago, maybe even moreso. If that's the case, why don't you have any new songs? Rotten: I do, it's called Public Image Limited, and solo projects, and Steve (Jones) has his other stuff (a new band, the Neurotic Outsiders, whose album comes out Sept. 10), we all have our own stuff. I don't really want to do (new Sex Pistols songs). And there's not bloody time. You should see our schedule, it's non-stop. If we write while we're on tour, that's all well and fine. But no organized, between the hours of three and six we will write a song. That would be bullshit. Jam!: Do you think it's possible the Pistols will still be around in the year 2000? Rotten: Don't know, don't care. That's of no relevance to me right now. I can't predict the future. Who knows, I might look really great in a wheelchair. Jam!: You've said to anyone who sneers at the Pistols reunion that, if they don't like, then don't come to the shows. But it's not that simple. There are a lot of people in the middle, people who had their lives changed by Never Mind The Bollocks and bring a great deal of emotional baggage to your shows. Rotten: I'm not God. I can't do any more than I do, and if by example you can learn from me, then that's well and fine. You might choose to just ignore everything I do. (The thought had occurred to me.) That's well and fine also. That's the line, there, clearly drawn by me. I don't step into other people's shoes and tell them what's right for them. Jam! (becoming slightly belligerent): But that doesn't change the fact that people coming to a Pistols show in 1996 expect something more than just an entertaining rock 'n' roll band. Rotten: What's that have to do with me? What would you like me to do with that? Would you like a big sign outside the auditorium: please leave personal baggage at home. Those kind of people don't matter, because they're so clogged up with this festering nonsense in their head, they can't see things clearly. I have no time for stupidity. Life's really simple, it isn't difficult. I know that. I'm the living proof of it. I deal with very complicated situations, and I go straight to the core and point out what is wrong. The end. Why can't you do the same? Steve Jones (rolling his eyes and breaking into mock applause): More! More! Oh he's good. He's good. (Sir Johnny exits again. And comes back again.) Jam!: Are you going to add in the cover of (Count Five's) Psychotic Reaction when you play in Canada? Rotten: At some point, yeah. If we had done that last night, I would've died, because there was no oxygen in that air. (Denver is a mile above sea level.) But the way we do it, believe me, you would not recognize it. We also have great fun with Roadrunner, the old Jonathan Richman song. I actually rang him up in L.A. and asked him what the real words were, because I never knew them. He said, "Well there aren't any real words. I just make them up every time." With Public Image, I've been doing that kind of live improvising for years, and I really enjoy it. Public Image is closer to jazz than anything else. Which is odd, because I hate jazz. But the ATTITUDE of jazz I like. I can't bear all those saxophone and trumpet-blowers, they drive me insane. Jam!: Public Image is more like free-form jazz. Rotten: Yeah, but it has to have a basic structure. That's why I like Middle Eastern music. There's a beginning and an end, and what we do in the middle is where the fun lies, in the juxtaposition of various events of the song. Jam!: Ever consider slipping in an early Public Image song like Religion into the Pistols' shows now? Rotten: Nah. I don't think the band could play it (laughs uproariously). Ooh, ya bitch. No, that would be wrong. It would be a Johnny showcase. That's not what it's about. It's the Pistols. We do songs that were around at the time that we really like. Jam!: But you wrote Religion at that time. Rotten: Yeah, but that was at the tail end. They were very difficult times. It would just really drag up some very, very bad memories best left alone by those who know how to deal with them. At which point Sir Johnny looks hard at me and, surprisingly, says: "Cheer up, life ain't that bad. Well, it is for some." Jam!: Why, do I look depressed? Trust me, it's just an ethnic thing. Rotten: Frankly, yes, to be perfectly honest. You look despondent there, like, "Oh, why can't Johnny just be nice?" Jam!: No thanks. That would be very dull. Rotten: I can only be myself, and that's all there is to it. Life's too short to be dishonest. Tell it like it is. The end. Thursday, August 8, 1996 Steve Jones remembers trying to save Kurt Cobain
Jam! Showbiz DENVER, COLO. -- Sex Pistols guitarist, and former addict, Steve Jones tried to help Kurt Cobain get over his heroin addiction. "I went and visited him in (L.A.'s Cedars-Sinai) hospital. This was when Courtney Love was pregnant, when she was about to have her kid (Frances Bean, born in August 1992). He was in rehab. I went in and talked to him, because I'm sober. (Jones battled heroin and alcohol addiction for years after the Pistols disintegrated.) I actually didn't know who it was. A doctor friend of mine said, 'Can you go and see this guy?' He was there under an assumed name, and I didn't really know who Nirvana was back then. I'd seen Teen Spirit a couple of times on video. And Kurt said to me, 'You changed my life.' But then he ran away from that place. "You know," says Jones, who has strong feelings about addicts, "people say that he died because he was depressed. It wasn't that. It was because he was addicted to heroin. I mean, you try to kick heroin, that makes you very depressed. But he wasn't different than anyone else. He was just an addict. I've been there myself. But (he and Courtney) were into that Sid and Nancy bullshit, know what I mean?," he says, referring to Pistols' bassist/screw-up/fatality Sid Vicious and his equally screwed-up girlfriend, Nancy Spungen. You mean they were into romanticizing it? "Yeah, that boring old dark shit." Why do you think heroin seems to be once again the drug of choice among musicians? "It's just a cycle," Jones says. "No big mystery. See, I never preach to anybody. I just told (Kurt) my feelings. He didn't believe any musician could be straight. I just showed up and told him I was, for a number of years. But it don't matter what you say to anyone, they're not gonna get straight 'til they're ready. IF they're lucky enough." Did he ask for your autograph? "Did he ask for my autograph? Actually, he did. I signed some book that he had. But Courtney stormed out of the room. She hated me when I walked in there. Ugly old c---." Did she remind you at all of Nancy Spungen? "She did. She had that same horrible dark cloud over her." Actually, there were a lot of people at the Denver show who were dressed exactly like Sid. "Well," sighs Jones, "he's the dead one. The dead one's always the one they mythologize." Thursday, August 8, 1996 Glen Matlock on what really happened at Pistols' reunion
Jam! Showbiz DENVER, COLO. -- In typical Sex Pistols fashion, when Johnny Rotten, Steve Jones, Paul Cook, and Glen Matlock convened in a Los Angeles rehearsal hall this spring to play together for the first time in 19 years, things didn't exactly get off to a roaring start. The story the band members have been foisting on us so far is that the band spent a fairly tension-free week in an old club, and that it was like no time at all had passed since the original lineup (before Sid Vicious replaced Matlock) performed their final show together, Jan. 17, 1977 in Amsterdam. But, according to Glen Matlock, that's not quite the way it happened. "The very first day, everyone was nervous," he's saying in a hotel room here the day after the band opened its North American tour at Red Rocks Ampitheater, outside Denver. "Steve and Paul actually split at one point, and me and John went through the set by ourselves. I played Steve's guitar. That's supposed to be a secret." Why did Steve and Paul split? "Well, they'd been hanging around all day long, and it was hot and the air conditioning didn't work. It was nothing sort of untoward," Matlock emphasizes. "I think Steve had a date, actually." From that inauspicious start, the band packed up and moved to another building, described by the erstwhile Mr. Jones as "some little shit-hole in the valley in L.A. We didn't want to waste any money in case it didn't work out." And what was the first song the foursome actually attempted together on this historic occasion? What else: Problems. "It was kind of depressing and exciting at same time," says Jones. "Because in a way, you kind of take up from where you left off, and where we left off was kind of depressing for me. But it's 18 years later, and my mind's in a different place than where it was then. Plus, that was only the first day. After about four or five, it felt great and I knew it was going to work." The seed for the year's most unlikely regrouping actually started two years ago, when Matlock came to L.A. to work on another project. "I had a little bit of time on my hands, so I looked up Steve," he explains. "We chatted, and he said, 'Let's go see John.' Now, I hadn't seen John for almost 17 years. But we met up, and we got on fine. There was obviously a bit of friction. We didn't know how to take each other at first, but we got on fine. And that was that. We didn't talk about reforming the band or anything, but we kept in some kind of touch. "Then Steve's manager (Anita Camerata), who's managing the Pisols along with John's manager (Eric Gardner), she called me, and said, 'Well, look, Steve said how about doing a tour. If I made a few inquiries would you be interested. I said yeah. In November, she called back and said, 'It looks pretty concrete, are you still interested? Then in January, we all agreed to do it. But we didn't actually meet up, the four of us in a room, 'til the day before the press conference (at London's notorious 100 Club, in March)." Matlock, who's just put out a fine collection of power pop, Who Does He Think He Is When He's At Home? on Oasis's label in the U.K., is keen to keep write some new material and make a new Pistols album. But for now, he and the rest of the band are content to be finally be receiving the attention -- much of it positive, for a change -- that they felt they deserved all along. "It's great," says Jones, of all the fans that have come up to him in the first six weeks of the tour and told them how much he's meant to them. "It's not often in one person's life that you stumble across a band like the Sex Pistols that changed the face of music. If nothing else happens in my life, at least I've done something worthwhile." August 11, 1996 A little less RottenThe Sex Pistols may have mellowed in the last 18 years, but Johnny's still rude
Toronto Sun Now in the old days of the Sex Pistols -- when sandwiches made from guitarist Steve Jones' semen and other nasty substances were commonplace -- this would seem rather tame behavior by the British band's fiesty frontman. But Rotten and Jones plus the two other original members, drummer Paul Cook and bassist Glen Matlock, are 18 years older after all, quite respectable looking now (with the exception of Rotten's two-tone, red-yellow hair standing on end), and not as prone to such gross-out adolescent antics. Though he does greet me with a hearty, "Up your bum!" Just the night before, his Royal Rotteness was sucking back oxygen on stage at Red Rocks Amphitheatre during the Pistols' first North American date of their Filthy Lucre reunion tour, which hits the Molson Amphitheatre tomorrow night. The oxygen, however, had less to do with Rotten's advancing age and more with the venue being one mile above sea level. Or so he says. "It's all right. I didn't die," he says, glaring down at me with that famous stare (the result of poor vision caused by a childhood bout with meningitis), while he paces the hotel room with a cigarette in hand. "Very many singers I know have had trouble with this gig and have quite literally passed out and been rushed to hospital. It's well known for that. The altitude gets to very many bands and the few that manage to get through it have to give a very relaxed performance, which I find basically impossible." Rotten's reputation was made on his confrontational style and spitting on audiences as much as his penning the lyrics to such Pistols classics as God Save The Queen and Anarchy In The U.K. and creating the safety-pinned, ripped-clothes look which popularized punk rock in the late '70s. The Irish-born eldest of four brothers who grew up with liberal parents in a working-class household in London, Rotten overcame his initial shyness when he realized his quick wit could serve him well. That and his unusual sense of fashion, which he claims to have gotten from his "old man." "It's got to be down to your parents, isn't it? One way or another. They tell you what to do and then you don't do it. Therefore, you thank them." (He does wrap up this interview, by the way, with: "I'm desperate for a cr-p, so can I end this?" Apparently he hasn't completely given up his shock tactics.) After his famous walk off stage at the last Sex Pistols gig in San Francisco in 1978 (with Matlock replacement Sid Vicious, who died of a heroin overdose one year later), Johnny went on to form Public Image Limited, or PiL, which never achieved the same status or success as his previous band. Nonetheless, he credits its existence for the healthy turnout of teenagers and college kids on the Filthy Lucre tour so far. "That's progress, my dear. And no doubt brought about through Public Image and the genius work I've done there," he says with a maniacal giggle. "I've definitely been opening people's minds to different kinds of music over the years. And I think the Sex Pistols is as relevant to me as it ever was. I love doing this, but not forever. This is just it. "I reform Public Image next year. I run my own studio in Los Angeles which I built last year. I've just done a solo record that should be coming out the end of January hopefully." So if you want to see the reformed original Pistols, this is your only chance. Just don't expect Rotten to be thrilled if you're a member of some new band who comes backstage to pay homage. Oasis and Bush were reported to be at the Pistols' June 23 concert at London's Finsbury Park, where the recently released Filthy Lucre Live was recorded. "Well they're perfectly entitled to come along and let me lecture them as to where they've gone horribly wrong," says Rotten. "I don't like any of that stuff anyway. I can't stand that meet and greet stuff. It's very, very false. And the idea of hearing, `Great gig man,' one more time just turns my stomach over." Rotten says the Pistols only rehearsed in L.A. for a week before the Filthy Lucre tour began, and says despite persistent rumors, there were never any serious offers for them to regroup until this year. Even then, he says, the reunion only happened because the four knew they could get along. Matlock left the group in 1977 mainly due to Rotten's intense dislike of him. "It clicked extremely well," says Rotten. "Year before Glen came on holiday to Los Angeles, we ran into Steve and they came over and visited me and we went out and had a laugh. And really that was a turning point. Nothing to do with all that nonsense the press loves to write about, $6 million from here or there wanting to get the Pistols back together. All of that is rubbish; we've never seen a serious offer." Rotten also says the reunion allows the Pistols a worthy finish. The band sort of fizzled out after Johnny walked and the other three remained with manager Malcolm McLaren for a short time afterwards. "Being fair, I think that they thought that the Sex Pistols was a good thing," says Rotten. "They gave it a chance. So I don't knock people for taking the risk, but I love knocking people when it fails," he adds with a wicked smile. "We can now finish the Pistols properly at our own pace and our own way, and quite frankly, nobody in the world but us has a say in that. "And all those judgemental fools in the press can go eat s--- and die, 'cause their opinions don't count. "Get out of my life, get out of my face, get a life of your own, just take things for what they are and stop intellectualizing." As Rotten would say, "The end." THE JOHNNY ROTTEN QUOTE FILE: * "Everybody wants to fit into the genre. `I'm in a grunge band.' What a stupid thing to want to say. A form of music not invented by you, by somebody else. Same with rap. Rap drives me insane now. It's so tedious." * "BritPop is just a bunch of imitators all over again. They've gone back to the '60s, when everything was cozy and nice. There's no content; they're not dealing with anything. Britain is an extremely repressed country right now, economically, politically, and every other way, and they just don't want to deal with it. So by paddling on in the way they do, they make the problems worse. In their own mediocre way, they are the enemy." * "When the Sex Pistols started there was nothing on God's Earth that sounded like them. Nothing. Now in 20 years what have we got? We've got bands out there imitating that style of music but not surpassing it. They haven't moved on from it. So in a weird, wonderful way, it's nice for me to go back in my own history and say, `Look, this is how it is.' Not that false image you're conjuring up. That pale shadow stuff." August 1, 1996 Something's Rotten in Denver
Jam! Showbiz MORRISON, COLORADO -- It is an image that even his harshest detractors would probably rather not have witnessed. Two verses into the unadulterated bile of the Sex Pistols' angriest song, Liar, Johnny Rotten edged over to the side of the stage at the glorious Red Rocks Amphitheater, hurriedly placed a transparent, plastic mask over his mouth and nose, and sucked in a deep hit of, yes, OXYGEN! Now, we should point out that there are extenuating circumstances to this superficially pathetic act. Rotten has suffered from breathing problems ever since surviving a severe childhood bout of meningitis. Couple that malady with the absolutely perverted move of kicking off the Pistols' reunion tour in the exceedingly thin atmosphere of this satellite of Denver -- the "mile-high" city -- and it's no wonder Rotten had to spend a good part of the night at the other end of slim, green tank full of O2. Trouble is, rock 'n' roll couldn't care less about extenuating circumstances. It is infinitely more concerned with images, and the image Rotten unintentionally presented Wednesday night was one of a wheezy old geezer who's way too old to be singing some of the greatest punk songs ever written. In other words, every sceptic among the 8,500 people on hand at Red Rocks was handed the perfect opportunity to utter those immortal words: "I told you so." The truth, as it always is with the Sex Pistols, is nowhere near as tidy as that. While a trio of worthy up-and-coming acts -- Gravity Kills, Reacharound, and Stabbing Westward -- were the beneficiaries of absolutely perfect summer weather, something strange happened as the Pistols' 9:45 p.m. (Mountain time) set approached. The wind suddenly started to kick up, and kick up hard. In a matter of minutes, the huge cloth curtain, imprinted with a vintage reproduction of an anti-Rotten headline in a British tabloid, had blown down. A few minutes later, the stagehands were forced to tear down two more banners from either side of the proscenium arch. Pretty soon, there was absolutely nothing left up there but the band's equipment, looking forlorn in the centre of a very barren stage. "Forgive us, because it's hard to hear shit up here because of the f------- wind," Rotten snarled after a sluggish run through Seventeen. "But we'll do the best we can -- which is better than anyone else." By the time guitarist Steve Jones, drummer Paul Cook, and bassist Glen Matlock had pounded their way through New York and the early B-side Did You No Wrong, Rotten had been reduced to gargling every couple of minutes from what looked like a bottle of whiskey. Needless to say, it was not a pretty sight. Ostensibly because of Rotten's breathlessness, the band was forced to slow down songs like Satellite and Sub-mission, both of which sound like gangbusters on the Pistols' just-released Filthy Lucre Live. Though Rotten recovered in time to deliver a stunning version of the set-closer, Problems, the rest of the show suffered by comparison to the performance captured on album. In fact, except for flip-flopping two numbers, Wednesday's show consisted entirely of the live album, played in order from beginning to end. Rotten even recycled one of the intros -- "It's singalong with Johnny time". None of this was helped by the audience, which was easily as young as anything you'd find at a Green Day concert. Toward the end of the proceedings, a couple of kids defiantly slipped through the wall of security, and clambered up on stage. Trouble is, once they got up there, they didn't know what the hell to do about it. That might have had something to do with the fact that, in order to boost lagging sales, ticket prices were cut last weekend from $20 to $10.67 (the frequency of the FM radio station sponsoring the show). So, uncooperative elements, an inattentive audience, and a diseased lead singer. If you were so inclined, you could say it added up to the perfect Sex Pistols show. WARNING: If you're going to see the Sex Pistols in either Toronto or Vancouver and you DON'T want to know beforehand what they'll be playing, stop right here. Otherwise, here's the full 15-song set list from the North American tour opener Wednesday night: Bodies Seventeen (a.k.a. I'm A Lazy Sod) New York Did You No Wrong No Feelings God Save The Queen Liar Satellite (I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone Sub-mission Holidays In The Sun Pretty Vacant EMI --------------------------------------- ENCORE: Anarchy In The U.K. Problems |