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I see the Sex Pistols are reforming?.. again


Brendan

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I saw a thing a while ago about the Pistols, and it had this interesting thing on it. There was a band from the States with a female singer (or she may have been a solo act), and she was doing really really well over there, and was tipped to be the next huge thing.


They booked her a few gigs here, and after a good start, the Sex Pistols made a comment basically slagging her and her music off at one of their gigs, and suddenly no one was at all interested in her.


Just goes to show that they were way way more "main stream" than they ever would have liked to admit.


Will try and dig out the details of that story...


I was obviously not around at the time, but when I see any footage of them these days, I just think "what a bunch of complete turds". They remind me a lot of some of these really annoying eco warriors of today. Kind of white boys with filthy dreads, a bit middle class, showing the world how special and superior they are. F**king pricks.


Ahem, sorry.

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Well Jah. I was feeling a little tender today but here is how it went:


I was feeling a little strung out when I entered the Far Side for a beer before the gig. Mainly because in an attempt to get over the flu I had taken an obscure European brand of energy tablet, brought back from some holiday, which upon closer inspection of the packet revealed that it was basically ephedrine.


This wasn?t good. I was paranoid and agitated. The big guy at the wrought iron table kept on looking at me threateningly. I think he thought I was staring at his missus.


I was staring at his missus. Surely that strip of tartan couldn?t qualify as a skirt?


Posh-Goth types anyway. Fukc ?em.


Position myself at the bar looking the other way. Down 3 pints of the black stuff. Talk to Martin about mortgages. Go outside and smoke a tab.


I felt much better about the general state of the universe. It probably wouldn?t last.


We headed down to the Academy to find out that the tickets I had managed to get my hands on were for the seated upstairs section. So instead of jumping about and swapping sweat with teenage skater types and bespectacled, balding rockers I was going to be watching the world?s most iconic punk band from a pew up in the gods.


Never mind. Starting to feel strung out again. Send Martin to the bar. Go smoke a tab in the toilettes. Kinda like school this. It even has the drunk 15-year-olds trying to be ?ard.


Leave the toilettes. My nose thanks me. Find Martin who proffers beer. Warm Carling in a plastic cup. Standard issue gig juice. Two each. Good man.


When we got to our seats Goldie was warming the crowd up with some heavy drum and bass. I?m not too sure why they chose him as an opening act as the drum and bass did seem a bit out of place. I wasn?t the only one who noticed this and as his set went on the crowd started to get nasty hostile. Little love lost as he left the stage flashing a two fingered salute. I was actually enjoying it. Must have been the ephedrine.


Next, with a fanfare of English nationalism, which unfortunately seemed to play up to some nasty undercurrents in the crowd the Pistols took the stage and launched into Pretty Vacant.


The whole set was pure balls to the wall, adrenalin fueled punk rock and I really wished I was downstairs in the thick of things.


But it was, as was inevitable ad expected, not quite like seeing a real band. I felt like I was watching some kind of historical reenactment. Great to see and entertaining as all hell but only a reenactment of the real thing. But still the closest someone from my generation could get to it.


A bit like someone with an interest in Scottish history watching Brave Heart.


No, actually it was nothing like that at all. Stupid analogy. I was just obsessed with tartan after seeing that girl with the ridiculously short skirt in the pub.


Analysis aside, the beer was kicking in and I was enjoying myself immensely. Word of warning though, jumping about on those tiny terraces up in the gods can be a tricky business. Luckily I didn?t lose too much beer and it was too dark for me to register the dirty looks.


All in all. Am I glad I went? Yes! Would I go again? Yes! Was it kinda bemusing? Yes.


As they ended with Anarchy in the UK and John Lydon drawled out the line ?Noooo future for meeeee? mentally I couldn?t help adding the caveat, ?except for millions of dollars in the bank a life in California and a career as a celebrity.?


When I was leaving I noticed a family decked out in Sex Pistols shirts. Mum, Dad, son and daughter. This kinda summed it up for me. It was just a show. Something for the whole family to come and see before they all go senile. A bloody good show but just a show.


Back home with my brain feeling twisted as a lay in bed and let the ringing in my ears sing me to sleep I couldn?t help being reflective and wondering:


When is the next revolution going to come where the youth feel that they have a voice shouting out with all their angst against how the rest of us are fukcing up the world that they are going to inherit?


Or is it time for something new?


Has rock ?n roll reached saturation point as a vessel for teenage rebellion?


Are we at a point where nothing new can be done and is it time for something else?


I hope not as so far all the alternatives to rawk pale in comparison when it comes to good ol? air punching, foot stomping, anger ridding, adolescent catharsis.

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Brendan. Brilliant.


I was aged 2 in 1977. But I love what they did to all that sh*t disco / pop that was around at the time and salute them for it. And if Lydon walks with several million then good luck to him as they didnt make anything like that back in the day when they should have done. And Malcom McLaren is reduced to walking out of I'm a Celebrity Tw@t get me out of here. Oh how the mighty have fallen.


On a different musical note, Robert Plants new album with folk singer Alison Krauss is really, really good. As is the new British Sea Power EP....our answer to the Arcade Fire!

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Ultraconsultancy Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> Hey Ben

>

> Didn't go see BSP at White Mischeif last weekend

> did you?



Alas no. Last time I saw them was at the BBC about 2 years ago for a recording of Jules Holland. My all time blues hero Buddy Guy and REM were also on the bill. Quite a diverse evening! BSP were all wearing Tommy helmets with twigs in them and the drummer marched around the studio beating a big bass drum. They rocked.

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