Showing posts with label richard branson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label richard branson. Show all posts

2 Oct 2025

Russ Bestley: 'Turning Revolt Into Style' (2025): Notes on Chapters 6-8

Russ Bestley: Turning Revolt Into Style (Manchester University Press, 2025)
Stephen Alexander (à la Jamie Reid): God Save Russ Bestley (2025)
 
 
I. 
 
I have my own tale to tell in relation to the theme of Chapter 6 - 'Industry and the Individual' - or punk vs the closed shop. 
 
In 1982, I worked for six weeks at 19 Magazine in the features department, on an attachment as part of a degree course. I arranged and conducted an interview with Vivienne Westwood at her West End studio. The fashion editor at 19 wasn't happy - as I’d not sought her permission - and the NUJ rep wasn't happy either, as I wasn't a member nor even a paid employee. And so, even though the features editor loved the piece I wrote on Westwood, it went unpublished. 
 
I hate the bosses and the management. But, despite "intersecting concerns regarding class" [a] and worker's rights, I hate the unions and their restrictive practices too.
 
 
II.
 
"By the late 1970s, the original punk scene in the United Kingdom had been largely commercialised through the rebranding of new wave and post-punk ..." [200] 
 
That's true: but we should also recall that "some of the movement's more successful exponents" [200] were more than happy to collaborate in this and to assume elevated positions within "a revised and updated professional arena" [200]; i.e., to build careers and to make something of their lives.    
 
In other words, there were ambitious and aspirational individuals who wanted to get ahead had no issue with transforming from punks into yuppies and celebrities:
 
"The entrepreneurial spirit of punk [...] afforded entry to the fields of journalism, popular music, film, photography and design for those who chose to take the opportunity and run with it." [200] 
 
Some may still have pretended they wanted to 'smash the system' or 'disrupt it from the inside', but we all know most simply wanted to feather their own little nests and, whilst wearing their designer suits, turn rebellion into money.   
 
"To some critics", writes Bestley, "it was like punk had never happened" [200] [b]. 
 
Or, rather, I would say, it was as if the Sex Pistols had never existed.
 
 
III.
 
On the other hand ... 
 
I don't much care either for those who continued to cling on to a "stereotypical model of punk [...] despite the proliferation of new styles and the fragmentation of post-punk in myriad new directions" [201]. To paraphrase Jello Biafra: 'you ain't hardcore 'cause you spike your hair / when a [stuckist] still lives inside your head [c].     
 
Like Bestley, I'm less than impressed by hardcore punks in the early 1980s who "seem fixated on death, destruction and war, with little of the humour or self-awareness of the previous punk generation" [202]. 
 
And the hardcore punk designers were less than imaginative too, giving us "illustrations of stereotypical 'punk' figures replete with studded leather jackets and mohican hairstyles" [202] which have helped to establish "a set of generic graphic conventions that unfortunately still resonates across global punk scenes today" [202].
 
Bestley concludes: 
 
"Unlike the first wave of punk designers, who quickly moved on from what were fast becoming stereotypical visual symbols - such as the swastika, safety pin and razor blade - this punk generation seemed stuck in a time loop (or doom loop) of its own making." [202]
 
 
IV.   
 
Away from the hardcore dinosaurs, "punk and post-punk dress styles shifted [...] to the more flamboyant and expressive end of the dressing up box" [204], as a colourful new romanticism replaced punk nihilism; in 1980, McLaren and Westwood closed Seditionaries and opened Worlds End; out with the black bondage trousers and in with the gold striped pirate pants. 
 
Ultimately, writes Bestley, "the punk 'revolution' was to prove largely ineffective in its ambition to move away from pop music traditions and long-standing business practices, with many artists [...] falling into line as the industry took control" [204]. 
 
Rather irritatingly, Bestley (like so many others) seems prepared to let Rotten off the hook and give him far more credit than he deserves:
 
"Seeing the winds of change, Sex Pistols vocalist Johnny Rotten quit the band at the end of a disastrous North American tour in January 1978. Going back to his real name, John Lydon, he quickly established a new group, Public Image Ltd., with the explicit intention to turn the image of the rock performer upside down and to critique the exploitative practices of the music indusry from the inside." [204]
 
Firstly, Rotten didn't 'quit the band'; he was thrown overboard by McLaren with the agreement (or, if you prefer, connivance) of Cook and Jones who didn't like the fact Rotten was behaving like a prima donna, if not actually morphing into Rod Stewart [d].
 
Secondly, the North American tour may have been ill-starred, but it was not 'disastrous' in the sense that I think Bestley means. Rather, it was the consummation (or perfecting) of the nihilism that always lay at the heart of the Sex Pistols project and should be celebrated as such. Rotten's was a necessary sacrifice; just as Sid's death, which secured his tragic and iconic status, is a promise of life and its eternal recurrence [e].         
Thirdly, whatever his 'intentions' we all know 'Lydon' [f] signed an eight album record deal with Virgin and received a £75,000 advance from Branson [g] soon after exiting the Sex Pistols, with the latter promising to promote PiL at the forefront of the post-punk scene.   
 
And we all know the abject figure Lydon is today [click here and here].  
 
 
V.
 
This is true enough - and a good thing, I think:
 
"The new post-punk scenes moved away from focusing purely on music and lyrics to far more visual expressions of style and taste, along with a wider range of philosophical and aesthetic concerns ..." [207]
 
I'm not sure that references to oblique postmodern theory by music journalists such as Paul Morley necessarily makes them pretentious, however. And, besides, surely we might question the supposed moral merits of humility? The dreary utilitarianism (and realism) of the English intellectual tradition is not something I would wish to defend.  
 
After all, pretension is a form of pretending and, as my friend Thomas Tritchler likes to remind me, pretending is a vital and productive act of the imagination [h]. 
  
 
VI. 

Anyone for electronic music ...? 
 
No thanks: I don't care about (or care for) the Human League, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Ultravox, Gary Numan ... et al
 
As Malcolm always said: 'A man sitting on a mountain top tapping two sticks together makes a much bigger sound than all the electronic music of today.' 
 
And who really wants to see pop stars standing behind synthesisers like clerks behind the counter of a hightstreet bank?     
 
 
VII. 
 
Bestley closes Chapter 7 with a couple of paragraphs that essentially summarise the book and so merit being quoted at length:
 
"Graphic design and commercial art have a long-standing relationship with both advances in technology [...] and artistic or cultural trends. While this book has argued that much punk graphic design was heavily impacted - or even driven - by access to materials and technology, punk's visual provocations clearly also had antecedents in Dada, Surrealism and the Situationist International, together with Pop Art and its inherent critique of the distinction between fine art and the commercial arena ... But those connections were often indistinct, serendipitous and stylistic, rather than formal - and the same can be said of the similarities between post-punk or new wave music graphics and the new styles emanating from American and European designers in response to postmodernism." [230]
 
"As all these converging themes illustrate, the historical relationships between punk, art history and design are highly complex, with punk and post-punk graphic approaches drawing upon earlier visual conventions while they themselves helped to inspire a new generation of design professionals working outside the subculture. Whether that fits the model of postmodernist theory or not is something of a moot point, since punk's historical moment intersects so closely with wider changes in the arts, media and politics that it is almost impossible to separate causes from consequences." [230-31][i]   
 
 
VIII. 
 
"Popular music has changed irrevocably in the past forty years." [233] 
 
Well, that's true - but then everything has changed, hasn't it? Change is the only constant (becoming is ironically stamped with the character of being, as Nietzsche might say) [j]. 
 
One of the things that has significantly changed for Bestley is the fact that popular music no longer plays such a crucial role in the lives of the young: "The  notion of music as a core element of personal identity and (sub)cultural capital seemed to fall away in the 1990s, a process that accelerated in the new millennium." [235]
 
When Bestley and I were teenagers, the first question we would ask of anyone was: What bands d'you like? And that pretty much determined the relationship (or lack of relationship) going forward. 
 
But young people today pick 'n' mix from a variety of music genres and have a much wider range of interests; "from film to fashion, celebrity culture, sports, literature and the arts" [235]. They don't care about shared communal identity so much as their individual right to like what they like and share selfies on social media.   
 
This doesn't bother me as much as it bothers Bestley, who bemoans the fact that pop music is once again "simply a form of light entertainment or background noise" [235] and that rock music was also sent into sharp decline by "banal television 'talent' shows and the return of the pop music Svengali in the odious form of Simon Cowell" [235]. 
 
As for punk? Well, punk "became recuperated [...] through the cementing of a set of visual and musical tropes that could be picked up and regurgitated in the affectation [...] of a generic 'punk' identity" [235].
 
Indie, meanwhile, is dismissed as "the bastardised offspring of the original independent post-punk scene, combined with a postmodern, sometimes ironic and often conceited form of self-reflection in musical approach, dress style and design" [236]. 
 
And, finally, don't mention the post-punk revival of the early 2000s; because that was merely a commercial pastiche "with highly successful groups adopting some of the gestures and signature styles of their late 1970s forebears, though often with little of the wit or intelligence" [236].
 
Ouch!  
 
Even today's reinvigorated interest in music graphics is greeted with more sorrow than joy: 
 
"Sadly, this interest is often linked to home decor and interior styling, with 'album art' displayed on bookshelves or in purpose-made frames hung on the wall - a marker of the owner's cool taste and cultural capital, rather than an object with a function and purpose." [236]
 
Again, all this is absolutely true, but I simply don't feel his pain. 
 
As for themed live events and corporate festivals ... the answer is: don't go! 
 
I wouldn't dream of heading up to Blackpool for the Rebellion Festival, although, funnily enough, I wouldn't mind visiting the Punk Rock Museum in Las Vegas that Bestley mentions; "a massive former warehouse building in the Arts District. now dedicated to preserving the history and heritage of punk rock while offering guided tours led by ageing pop punk musicians" [237] - and a gift shop!
 
Like it or not, this is who we are today; not fans in the old (authentic) sense, but consumers in search of a simulated (or ersatz) experience they can be posted about on Instagram or uploaded to YouTube [k]. 
 
Malcolm McLaren decried such toward the end of his life as a karoake culture - i.e., one which lacks substance and originality and relies upon pre-existing ideas and old styles constantly being recycled and repackaged - and, to be honest, I'm a little disappointed Bestley didn't refer to McLaren's TED Talk on this topic [l].  
  

IX.   
 
Returning to his theme (not quite like the proverbial dog to its vomit, but like someone with an itch that they simply have to scratch, even if it causes irritation to do so), Bestley writes:
 
"Punk's visual conventions [...] were appropriated, mimicked and blatantly copied by a rampant branding and marketing industry that is always on the lookout for material that might communicate an elusive sense of authenticity and agency. From trainers to power tools, credit cards to hamburgers, punk graphic conventions have been milked for all they are worth in the pursuit of profit. [...] Meanwhile, identikit, cosplay 'punks' around the globe adopt outfits lifted directly from the stylistic dead end of 1980s hardcore punk, in a desperate search for subcultural legitimacy." [237]
 
Again, all of that is true, but one wonders why Bestley cares so much (to the point, indeed, of writing a 250 page book about it)? I suppose it's because he believes that just as beneath the paving stones lies the beach, so there is "much more" [238] beneath the surface of punk and post-punk graphic design than meets the eye. 
 
What would this hidden punk substance "beyond stylistic gestures and visual tropes" [238] be one wonders? And why should it have priority over the latter? 
 
I suspect, for Bestley, this (metaphysical) substance consists of content, function and purpose and is what guarantees that the superficial (material) expressions of punk possess value and meaning. 
 
I have to admit, I find that a little odd coming from a graphic designer. One might have expected him to remain courageously at the surface, affirming forms, tones, and words; i.e., the world of appearance [m] (which is perhaps the only world that exists for us).  
 
Unfortunately, we do not have time to enter here into a philosophical discussion about "punk as a concept and its manifestation" [247] in physical form (a statement almost Platonic in its dualism which makes me wonder if punk wasn't simply another form of idealism all along).    
 
 
Notes
 
[a] Russ Bestley, Turning Revolt Into Style: The process and practice of punk graphic design (Manchester University Press, 2025), p. 190. All future page references to this work will be given directly in the post. 
 
[b] Writing in the following chapter of his study, Bestley notes: 
      "Even the arch Situationist behind punk's original graphic provocations, Jamie Reid, found a creative home in the mid-1980s, taking up the offer of a studio at Assorted Images to develop his art practice. While Reid never did make the leap to the commercial graphic design industry, he did continue to collaborate with musicians, artists, filmmakers and political activists, embracing the potential of new print reproduction tools to create a new aesthetic." [215] 
 
[c] The paraphrased line is from the Dead Kennedy's track 'Nazi Punks Fuck Off', written by Jello Biafra, and found on the EP In God We Trust, Inc. (Alternative Tentacles, 1981). It was also released as a single in November of that year.   
 
[d] For more on Rotten's dismissal from the band in January 1978, see the post entitled 'It Was on the Good Ship Venus ...' (4 March 2024): click here
      As indicated here, Rotten was starting to develop certain starry pretensions and thinking about how he might develop a long-term (possibly solo) career in the music industry. In this, he had the backing of record company executives, who saw him as a valuable asset and someone whom - unlike McLaren - they could work with (see note g below). 
 
[e] See the post 'Sid Vicious Versus the Crucified' (3 Feb 2024) - click here - where I explain what I mean by this.  
 
[f] On being told that 'Johnny Rotten' was a name owned by the Sex Pistols management company (Glitterbest), John Lydon reverted to his birth name.  
 
[g] Lydon also enjoyed a very nice, all expenses paid 'working holiday' in Jamaica, staying at the Sheraton hotel, accompanied by Richard Branson and others in the first three weeks of February 1978. In addition, Virgin agreed to pay for the rehearsal facilities and studio time for the new group Lydon planned to get together.  
       Later that same month, Lydon also flies to LA for a meeting with executives at Warner Bros. and to solicit further support for his (still unformed) new band. They eventually pay him £12,000 and Lydon uses the cash to buy a flat at 45 Gunter Grove in Fulham, West London. 
      Finally, let it be noted that when Lydon takes McLaren and Glitterbest to court in 1979, Virgin - supposedly neutral and in favour of an out of court settlement that will allow both the Sex Pistols and Public Image Limited to peacefully coincide on the same label - are clearly more in Lydon's camp than McLaren's. 
      The public school hippie Richard Branson - "four years younger [...] but by far the smarter businessman" - was arguably motivated by a degree of personal animosity towards McLaren; not least because he disliked the derisive nickname, Mr Pickle, that the latter coined for him. When Cook and Jones were offered a record deal of their own by Branson, the former Sex Pistols switched sides and Glitterbest's case (such as it was) pretty much collapsed. 
      Note: the line quoted is from Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 355.
 
[h] See the third part of Tritchler's post on the malign/ed art of faking it (27 Dec. 2014): click here.   
 
[i] One wonders if Bestley has ever considered the possibility that there are no causes and consequences - i.e., that the theory of cause and effect is a convenient and conventional fiction that we impose on reality in order to simplify and understand the complex chaos of events and which enables us to posit concepts such as free will and moral responsibility.  
 
[j] See §617 of The Will to Power, trans. and ed. by Walter Kaufmann (Vintage Books, 1968), p. 330.  
 
[k] As Bestley later notes: 
      "Viewed from a contemporary vantage point, 'spectacular subcultures' such as punk, that centered on tribal affiliations and subtle (or not so subtle) visual tropes, appear to have come from another age. The internet, personal blogs, influencers, social media and search engines have redefined modes of discovery, criticism and taste-making." [247] 
 
[l] See McLaren's TED Talk on the topic of authentic creativity contra karaoke culture (October 2009): click here
       I have to admit, McLaren rather surprises - and rather disappoints - with this return to highly suspect notions of authenticity, originality, substance, etc. Here was a man who once celebrated style and, as an artist, understood the importance of the surface (see note m below). 
      It pains me to say it, but one wonders if, in this final public presentation, it's fatigue, and age and illness that speaks (McLaren died six months afterwards, aged 64, from a form of asbestos-related lung cancer (mesothelioma)).    
 
[m] I'm half-quoting and half-paraphrasing from section 4 of Nietzsche's 1886 Preface to The Gay Science, written in praise of those artists who, like the ancient Greeks, knew how to be superficial out of profundity.   
   

Notes on the Introduction to Russ Bestley's Turning Revolt Into Style can be read by clicking here
 
Notes on Chapters 1 & 2 of Russ Bestley's Turning Revolt Into Style can be read by clicking here
 
Notes on Chapters 3-5 of Russ Bestley's Turning Revolt Into Style can be read by clicking here
 

18 Jul 2025

That Time I Met Mr Pickle ...

 

I. 
 
One of my favourite scenes in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) is the closing animated sequence in which McLaren and his motley crew are all aboard the good ship Venus and Johnny Rotten, having been found guilty of collaboration, is forced to walk the plank. 
 
Abandoned by his shipmates, the singer finds himself literally all at sea where he is soon swallowed by a great white shark with the Virgin logo clearly visible on its fin [1].    
 
This scene replayed itself in my mind when, in 1983, the Virgin Group acquired Charisma Records (although it wouldn't be until 1986 that the latter was fully digested by the former; still maintaining at least a measure of independence until then). 
 
So, let us say that I was not a fan of Richard Branson and would laugh at Malcolm's stories about this hippie entrepreneur whom he vehemently disliked and derisively called Mr Pickle (either intentionally or mistakenly confusing the surname with that of an English food brand made by Crosse & Blackwell since 1922) [2].  
 
 
II. 
 
I first met Mr Pickle when, as a Charisma employee, I was sent an invitation by him and the directors of the Virgin Group to attend a party at the Manor, in Oxfordshire, to celebrate the first anniversary of Virgin Atlantic.  
 
The Manor, for those who might not know, was a recording studio housed in a 17th century Grade II listed building that had been bought by Branson in 1971, for £30,000, when he was only twenty-one years of age. It was where Mike Oldfield famousy recorded his precious Tubular Bells (1973) [3].
 
As pretty much everyone from Charisma was going to go, I decided I'd also (somewhat begrudgingly) accept Branson's invitation. And here, for those who may be interested, is my memory of the day based on an entry in the Von Hell Diaries dated 22 June, 1985 ... 
 
 
III. 
 
Unsure what to wear, I decided to go with the pink check suit I bought two years ago and which I've kept hanging in my closet - unworn - ever since. After my friend Andy arrived, we went over to pick Lee Ellen up from her place in Chelsea. Then cabbed it over to Kensal House (i.e., Virgin HQ), from where coaches transported everyone to the Manor. 
      Those of us from the Famous Charisma Label were segregated from the Virgin staff and we were seated as a group at the back of the bus. As Robin had kindly brought along several bottles of wine, however, no one seemed to mind about that and, amusingly, we were soon making twice as much noise as the Virginians on board (to be fair, perhaps that's why we were placed at the back of the bus).  
       The Manor was an impressive country pile (provided you have the capacity to be impressed by an assemblage of bricks) and set in very beautiful grounds that included trees, lakes, swimming pools, tennis courts, etc. Mr Pickle was there to meet and greet us personally as we got off the bus. 
      There were three large tents erected and Branson had laid on copious amounts of food and drink as well as various entertainments that one could sign up for, including horse riding and helicopter flights. But I was more interested in Shelley's friend Claire to be honest. Unfortunately, I ruined my chances with her when I split my lip open swigging champagne straight from the bottle. Note to future self: spitting blood à la Sid Vicious is probably not the most attractive look. 
      Ultimately, it was a dull event - even with the odd pop star in attendance - and the weather didn't help (typical English summer's day - wet and chilly). Glad when the coaches turned up to take us back to London. Mr Pickle dutifully came over to say goodbye and shake everyone's hand for a second time: very much Lord of the Manor. And very much not to be trusted ... [4]    
  
 
 
Not to the manor born ... Andy Greenfield and myself 
The Manor Studio (22 June 1985)
 
 
Notes
 
[1] I have written about this scene in a post published on 4 March 2024: click here
 
[2] Use of this nickname is confirmed by Paul Gorman in The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 355. 
      Gorman's assessment of Branson is one I fully endorse; essentially, a very clever businessman from a privileged background who knew a good opportunity when he saw one and had "cultivated a knack of appropriating aspects of youth culture to his commercial gain" (ibid., p. 356). 
 
[3] The idea of building a luxurious home recording studio was still novel at this time; the Manor was only the third such studio in the UK. Oldfield recorded his debut studio album at the Manor in 1972-73 and it was the first album released on the Virgin Records label (25 May 1973). 
      In April 1995, after the takeover of Virgin Records by EMI, the Manor was closed as a recording studio and the building, listed for sale in 2010 at £5.75 million, is now the country home of some toff or other.   
 
[4] Lee Ellen, Robin, and Shelley all worked at Charisma (in the press office, accounts, and A&R department respectively). The final line is my recalling McLaren's famous advice given to Helen in The Swindle: 'Never trust a hippie'.   
 
 

26 Jan 2025

On the (Lost) Art of Swearing

The Filth and the Fury: 
Sex Pistols x D. H. Lawrence
 
Obscene language ... what language is that? I speak nothing but the fucking English language. 
And if that's obscene then tough shit. - Johnny Rotten [1]
 
I. 
 
Whilst their manager Malcolm McLaren tried to package the band as a combination of sex, style, and subversion, the press had other ideas following the Bill Grundy incident (see below) and would often discuss them in relation to another trio of terms beginning with the letter S: swearing, spitting, and scandalous behaviour. 

It's the first of these things - i.e., the use of language regarded as coarse, blasphemous, or obscene - that I wish to briefly touch on here with reference both to the Sex Pistols and, firstly, to the writer D. H. Lawrence ...
 
 
II. 
 
Following publication of Lady Chatterley's Lover (1928), Lawrence conceded that he would henceforth be known as the author who (re-)introduced the so-called obscene words into English literature [2]
 
But despite the abuse he received for this, Lawrence insisted on the necessity of having published his book unexpurgated and maintained that "the words that shock so much at first don't shock at all after a while" [3]
 
And that's not because we are corrupted by the words and quickly become depraved; rather, says Lawrence, it's because "the words merely shocked the eye, they never shocked the mind at all" [4]
 
He continues: "People with no minds may go on being shocked, but they don't matter. People with minds realise that they aren't shocked, and never really were; and they experience a sense of relief." [5]
 
For Lawrence, words such as shit, fuck, cunt, and arse, refer to perfectly natural acts and to organs we all possess: "Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body ..." [6] and so it is the mind we have to liberate, bringing it into harmony with the body and its potencies. Otherwise, we will fall into a kind of madness: like Swift [7].
 
Thus, whether one agrees or disagrees with Lawrence's use of four-letter words throughout Lady C. - and whether one thinks his attempt to cleanse language and free the mind works or fails - it cannot be said that he was merely attempting to épater le bourgeois
 
Obviously, it was a novel "written in defiance of convention" [8], but the ridiculous desire simply to shock the respectable middle-class and offend slow-minded and mob-indignant members of the public, was not Lawrence's intention. 
 
The bold (if slightly naive) attempt to give back the body its own phallic language and to startle individuals out of their word-prudery - to remind us that the word arse "is as much god as the word face" [9] - is an attempt to keep society sane.      
 
 
III.
 
I'm not sure that the Sex Pistols shared Lawrence's philosophical concern with revaluing language and preserving social wellbeing, etc. Nevertheless, these foul-mouthed yobs as they were branded, managed to place the question of swearing back on the agenda for discussion - not once but twice.      
 
The first occasion followed what is known as the Bill Grundy incident, in December 1976; a televised early evening interview which, as Paul Gorman says, has attained folkloric proportions within the cultural imagination:
 
"The impact of [Steve] Jones closing the encounter by calling Grundy 'a fucking rotter' - in the process uttering the expletive for only the third time in four decades of British television broadcasting - was to make the Sex Pistols both media demons and free speech causes célèbres." [10]  

Amusingly, one viewer claimed that he had been so outraged by the incident that he had kicked in the screen of his new £380 colour television set, though I suspect he would be one of those mindless morons that Lawrence describes. 
 
Still, it demonstrates that even fifty years after the publication of Lady Chatterley's Lover - and sixteen years following the Chatterley trial at the Old Bailey - expletives could still cause shock and outrage amongst some sections of the Great British Public.   
 
 
IV. 
 
The second time the Sex Pistols brought the question of what does and does not constitute offensive language to public attention was in November 1977, following release of their debut album, Never Mind the Bollocks ... [11]
 
The album, banned from sale by several highstreet retailers - including Boots, Woolworth's, and WH Smith - was available at Virgin Records, including the Nottingham branch where, on 9 November, the police arrested the store manager, Chris Searle, for displaying promotional material which included the word 'bollocks' in the window, after previously warning him on several occasions not to do so.  
 
Searle was charged with contravening the Indecent Advertisement Act (1889) and found himself in front of three local magistrates two weeks later. 
 
What might have remained a small matter, became a story of great national interest when Richard Branson - owner of the Virgin Record Stores and the Virgin Records label that the Sex Pistols were signed to - hired the famous barrister John Mortimer QC to (successfully) defend the case.
 
By calling a professor of English at the University of Nottingham as an expert witness, Mortimer was able to show that bollocks in the context of the album title clearly meant nonsense and derived from an Old English term for the kind of rubbish spoken by clergymen in their sermons and had no obscene sexual meaning, even if, etymologically, the term referred to the testicles. 

The chairman of the court hearing reluctantly concluded that as much as he and his colleagues wholeheartedly deplored the 'vulgar exploitation of the worst instincts of human nature for the purchases of commercial profits', they must find the defendant not guilty of any crime. 
 
Helped in part by the publicity surrounding the case, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols topped the charts and quickly went gold; Punk? Call it filthy lucre - a prime example of how to generate cash from chaos, as Malcolm might say. 
 

V.
 
Of course, all of this is a long, long time ago and we live today in a very different world from the one in which Lawrence wrote or even the one in which the Sex Pistols recorded. 
 
Indeed, one is almost tempted to speak now of the lost art of swearing as a once precious verbal resource has almost entirely been robbed of its potency. Rendered banal through endless repetition, the word fuck, for example, no longer shocks, no longer offends, no longer amuses, no longer endears. 
  
That's not to say, however, that the present doesn't have its own list of taboo terms and one smiles to see the content warnings given at the start of TV sitcoms from the 1970s: discriminatory language is what gets Gen Z viewers clutching their pearls and calling for the morality police, not foul language.
 
 
Notes
 
[1] I have slightly altered the transcript of an interview that Rotten gave to Dutch TV in 1977. 
      The interviewer asks (rather strangely) about infamous language and although Rotten twice repeats this term in his answer, one suspects that he was aware that the interviewer intended to say obscene language, although, one cannot be quite sure; the Dutch translation that appears on screen is schuttingtaal, which is usually given in English as 'jargon' or 'secret language'. 
      Click here to watch on YouTube.

[2] As he writes in his 'Introduction to Pansies' (1929): "I am abused most of all for using the so-called 'obscene' words [...] all the old words that belong to the body below the navel [...]" - words that cause the censor-morons to get excited and allow policemen to think they have the right to arrest you. See D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, Vol I., ed. Christopher Pollnitz (Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 664.
 
[3-5] D. H. Lawrence, 'A  Propos of Lady Chatterley's Lover', in Lady Chatterley's Lover, ed. Michael Squires (Cambridge University Press, 1993), p. 307.
 
[6] Ibid., p. 309. 
      In his 'Introduction to Pansies', Lawrence writes: "What is obvious is that the [obscene] words [...] have been dirtied by the mind, by unclean mental association. The words themselves are clean, so are the things to which they apply. But the mind drags in a filthy association, calls up some repulsive emotion. Well then, cleanse the mind, that is the real job." See p. 664 of The Poems, Vol. I (2013). 
 
[7] See Lawrence's remarks on Swift and his horror at the fact that his beloved Celia defecates in 'Introduction to Pansies' ... pp. 665-666. But see also my post entitled 'Celia Shits! Notes on Jonathan Swift's "The Lady's Dressing Room" and (Alleged) Coprophobia' (2 April 2024): click here.     
 
[8] D. H. Lawrence, 'A  Propos of Lady Chatterley's Lover' ... p. 334
 
[9] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to Pansies' ... p. 664.
 
[10] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 339. 
      For those readers who aren't familiar with the details of the Bill Grundy incident, let me briefly summarise: After Queen cancelled their appearance on the live television show Today show at the last minute, the Sex Pistols were offered the spot in order to promote their debut single, 'Anarchy in the UK', and explain what punk rock was all about. 
      Things started badly and quickly got worse when it was clear that Grundy was hostile and dismissive of the band and that the latter - particularly guitarist Steve Jones - were not prepared to take his bullshit, nor listen to his creepy sexual innuendo when speaking to a female member of their entourage called Siouxsie Sioux. Suggesting to her that they might 'meet afterwards' triggered Jones into calling him a 'dirty sod' and a 'dirty old man'. 
      Stupidly, Grundy then challenged Jones to 'say something outrageous' - which he did; calling Grundy a "dirty bastard" and a "dirty fucker". Grundy responded, "What a clever boy!" to which Jones hilariously replied, "What a fucking rotter!" 
      Predictably, the phone lines to the Thames switchboard lit up and the national press had a field day. Grundy was suspended by Thames and his career effectively ended. The Sex Pistols were fired shortly afterwards by their record label EMI and were now branded as public enemies. 
      The interview - click here - has become one of the most requested TV clips of all time. It will be noted that Johnny Rotten having muttered the word 'shit' prior to Jones's outburst almost apologises at first for his use of a 'rude word'.    
 
[11] The album was originally going to be called God Save the Sex Pistols, but the title was changed based on a phrase favoured by Steve Jones, which, as Rotten explained, was a popular working-class expression meaning 'stop talking rubbish'.
 
 

12 Jun 2015

The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle



And so Malcolm is revealed to have been deadly accurate in his characterization: Johnny Rotten is the Collaborator, happy to be pimped by Richard Branson and to whore first for Virgin Records and now for Virgin Money. 

Of course, deep down, we knew all along Rotten couldn't be trusted and the evidence has been steadily accumulating over the years. Thus what really interests is what Jamie Reid thinks of his still very powerful designs being used on the newly issued credit cards.

Is this, for Reid, the further continuation of the Swindle: one final attempt to slay the innocence and naivety of fans who so desperately want to believe in the integrity of their rock 'n' roll idols; one last lesson in how music makes you waste your time, your energy and ideas, and indeed what little money you may possess?

Perhaps. And it would be some comfort to think so. But probably Reid has no control over the use made of these images and he can only laugh (or cry) like the rest of us.

Carri on Sex Pistols ...