Mmes. Singh & Garraway trying to look interested and amused
as John Lydon performs his signature routine and promotes some product
on Good Morning Britain (ITV, 15 October 2026)
I.
Yesterday, 70-year-old former Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten was wheeled on to the set of Good Morning Britain - ITV's "lively BAFTA-nominated breakfast show that serves up an enticing blend of news and entertainment to start your day" [1] - in order to promote his new book [2].
Watching such a spectacle live and first thing in the morning is, if I'm being honest, a bit more than I can take.
However, I have now seen the interview with Kate Garraway and Ranvir Singh (the latter of whom wasn't even born when 'Anarchy in the U.K.' was released - and I very much doubt that nine-year-old Kate was pogoing round her bedroom at the time).
Rotten performs in his now familiar role as national treasure and a man more sinned against than sinning; surely someone from the RSC should sign him up to play Lear - perhaps with Cook and Jones dragged up as Goneril and Regan, and Matlock in the role of Edmund.
Anyway, I thought it might be instructive to critically examine a transcript of the interview. Note that italicised words and phrases in the text that follows are from the interview linked to above, as are the longer lines quoted.
II.
The segment begins with Ms Singh reminding the GMB audience - which numbers on average around 700,000 and mostly consists of viewers in their mid-50s - how the fabulous Sex Pistols exploded on to the music scene, scandalised the nation, and helped change popular culture forever.
There is no mention of the role that an earlier ITV show played in this: these days, everyone has to pretend that punk was great and that the Sex Pistols were just four lovable spiky tops; these days no one wants to be seen to side with poor old Bill Grundy.
Similarly, these days we are also asked to believe that "the man once known as Johnny Rotten is still tearing up the rule book". Really? Even the lovely presenter had to lean forward slightly at this point as if to check she was reading the autocue correctly.
Lydon finally gets his chance to speak and - yawn - he begins with an attack on his former band mates for having the cheek to tour without him (Frank Carter having replaced him as the Sex Pistols frontman in 2024 and now singing the songs for which he, Lydon, had once provided lyrics).
Not unreasonably, Ms Singh suggests he should have put his grievances behind him and joined them on the road, to which Lydon responds: "No, ma'am. I worked enough with them in the first place. They're deceitful, lying hyenas, and I never want another thing to do with them."
That being the case, then why complain or express disappointment when they draft in a new lead vocalist? I can't imagine Steve, Paul and Glen would make a fuss should PiL decide to perform a Sex Pistols track (as earlier variations of the band have done in the past), even though they - not Lydon - wrote the music.
I'm really not sure why Rotten feels he has some kind of moral claim over songs that were credited to all four band members. He clearly has no legal right to prevent their performance or use, as the ruling in the Pistol case made clear [3].
III.
In an attempt to move the conversation on, Lydon claims that the Sex Pistols are now nothing other than a karaoke band. Which is true.
But this is a bit rich coming from a man who on a spoken word tour in 2024 would lead the audience in a singalong-a-Johnny whilst a backing track of 'Anarchy in the U.K.' played [4]. Lydon has been offering us an imitation of Johnny Rotten for forty years or more.
Also, there's an irony in his choice of the word karaoke: for it is one that Malcolm McLaren increasingly used in his later years. But rather than acknowledge that he is still drawing inspiration from the latter, Lydon can't resist taking another cheap shot, describing his former manager as "just a bloke that run a clothes shop" who had no advice to offer and nothing of any importance to contribute to the band.
This kind of casual dismissiveness - of everyone not just McLaren - is typical of Lydon, who remains convinced that he was the central figure in the Sex Pistols story, when, actually, he was a late-comer and a collaborator [5].
IV.
Ageing is a subject of significant and growing interest amongst members of the Punk Scholars Network - particularly those who are now over the hill themselves. And it's interesting to see how individuals who once subscribed to an ethos of living fast and dying young now deal with the physical realities of growing old.
Lydon tried to laugh and joke his way off the topic when it was put to him - "I hit 69 and I thought that sounds like an interesting number" - although, interestingly, he confesses, he was more concerned about turning 21 than 70 (I'm somewhat sceptical about the truth of this, however).
Dear old Kate Garraway - 59 - flattered her guest by expressing her astonishment that he had reached three score years and ten: "I mean, talk about energetic, youthful energy!" Clearly, she hasn't seen his most recent performances with PiL: unfortunately, thanks to YouTube, I have.
Fans insist that although his physical movement is now restricted - and he can no longer really sing - his stage presence and vocal intensity are greater than ever. In other words, he's fat and he bellows and wails. Rotten always promised us he was no Mick Jagger - and I can absolutely confirm that when it comes to delivering a high-energy stage performance and still looking the part, he's no Mick Jagger.
V.
Of course, Lydon was always going to bring the conversation around to his lovely wife and having to care for her in the years before her death, aged 80, in 2023, having been diagnosed with Alzheimer's five years previously.
I find it increasingly irritating that he publicly plays the Nora card so often. I might be mistaken, but I do feel he emotionally milks her death whenever he wants not to solicit sympathy, so much as virtue signal and humanise himself in the eyes of viewers.
Again, Lydon's fans view his openness as a rare and authentic display of vulnerability and suggest that talking about things is a way for him to overcome his grief.
But critics argue that he turns personal tragedy into a slick media segment; an emotional narrative that is perfectly suited to the requirements of daytime TV. It may be that it was Kate Garraway who steered the conversation on to Nora - "I'd love you to to talk to us a little bit about her" - but Lydon was only too happy to give her what she wanted: "The more iller she got, the closer we got."
Ultimately, it's not cynicism on my part to notice that discussing his role as a loving husband and carer instantly humanises him, deflecting harsher political or personal critiques from hosts and viewers alike.
VI.
I have to admit, I did smile when Lydon was shown - apparently for the first time - a photo taken by British photographer Lou Boileau to mark his 70th birthday and which is apparently going to be housed in the National Portrait Gallery.
He said: "I don't like it. It's horrible!" and just for a moment I thought of Johnny Rotten and of all he once meant to me.
VII.
Finally, Lydon voices his opposition to AI and the fact that artists can have their voice and image appropriated: "It's horrible ... I don't want Mozart reinvented by a machine." [6]
Johnny Rotten, in other words, is a champion of the real deal and rejects falsehood and fakery in all its forms - including artificial intelligence. He even (jokingly?) promises a future album with the title Actual Intelligence.
I suppose this shouldn't surprise us: punk was always obsessed with authenticity - a quality that, along with sincerity, risks transforming the human being into an overly earnest bore, like Lydon, forever banging on about the vital character of live performance, etc.
Notes
[1] I'm quoting from the official blurb for Good Morning Britain on ITV's digital streaming platform ITVX.
[2] Archive (2026) is a forthcoming photographic memoir which "brings together rare and previously unseen photographs spanning John's extraordinary life and career" and "captures five decades of music, controversy, creativity and cultural change". Alongside the pictures, Lydon "offers candid commentary and personal reflections on the experiences and people who shaped his life".
I'm quoting from the official Public Image Ltd website. Click on the link if interested and if you wish to pre-order a copy of either the luxury edition (£49.99) or the superluxe edition (£149.99).
[3] In 2021, Lydon lost a High Court battle with his former bandmates Paul Cook and Steve Jones. They wanted to license songs by the Sex Pistols for use in Danny Boyle's six-part miniseries, Pistol, but Lydon - aggrieved that he wasn't being consulted about the making of the show (and that it was based on Jones's autobiography, not his) - sought to exercise an imaginary right to veto.
The judge in the case was clear, however: the Band Member Agreement signed in 1998 stated that licensing decisions could be approved by a majority vote and, like it or not, Lydon was therefore required to sign the necessary licenses.
[4] See the post 'Johnny Rotten as an Abject Antihero' (9 July 2024).
[5] Obviously, Lydon would reject this characterisation. In fact, later in the interview (5:55 on) he claims that he has not been absorbed and eventually corrupted by the music industry - even though, of course, he was swallowed by the Virgin shark in 1978.
[6] That's a nice line. Unfortunately, however, Lydon spoils it thanks to his own tendency for malapropism: instead of declaring the reinvention of Mozart by a machine as an atrocious thing to do, he says it's an audacious thing to do. It seems fairly obvious that's not what he means.
