A Rotten Breakfast

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.  

 

Never Mind the Swankers, Here's ...

(dir. Jeppe Rønde, 2004) [1]

 

'A silk necktie reflected in a shard of broken mirror, a picture 

of Elvis taped to a rusty locker ... What working stiff doesn't 

itch to become a peacock on Saturday night?' [2]

 

 

I. 

 

It's interesting how the three words sway, swagger, and swank share a common Proto-Germanic root and all suggest physical movement (a way of walking, for example, with an air of confidence and a certain defiance). 

 

It's the evolution of the latter term, however, that particularly interests me, and how it functions as a verb, adjective, and noun, and took on meanings to do with being stylish, fashionable, or flamboyant. 

 

That is to say, how it semantically shifted from physical swaying to a more figurative swaggering and eventually came to mean being a bit flash or possessing a rather showy form of elegance. [3]   

 

 

II. 

 

There was a time - before they became the Sex Pistols, but after they were known as The Strand - when the group formed by schoolfriends Steve Jones and Paul Cook were briefly known as The Swankers. (I suspect this was a crude joke on their part that quickly grew tiresome - particularly when the laugh was on them.)   

 

Today, in South Africa, working-class Zulu men who display their sharp sense of style and attitude in amateur competitions involving expensive designer clothes and catwalk choreography are known as swenkas - not so much a corruption of the English term as an accented pronunciation.   

 

While it is popular with younger generations today, the practice of swenking actually originated with older, migrant workers in Johannesburg in the 1960s and '70s. They dressed up on a Saturday night not simply to mess up, but to reclaim their dignity, display a sense of comradeship, and preserve something of Zulu culture. 

 

As one commentator notes: 

 

"The swenkas favoured a formal dress code inspired by jazz-age refinement. Their tailored suits came with brimmed hats and leather shoes, as well as a variety of accessories, including eyewear, gloves, braces and straw hats ..." [4] 

 

Swenking, then, is a genuine revolt into style. And like earlier (European) forms of dandyism, it also involves a certain asceticism; swenkas pride themselves not only on their sartorial appearance, but on their sobriety, cleanliness, and self-discipline [5]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] A 10 min clip from The Swenkas (2004) can be viewed on YouTube by clicking on the link. 

      

[2] Lines quoted from a review of Rønde's film in The New York Times by Jeannette Catsoulis (9 Sept 2005).

 

[3] The shared history of these three words reflects a fascinating phonetic and semantic kinship and their evolution demonstrates a shift from physical kinetics (movement and posture) to social aesthetics (style and status).     

      Sway enters English around the 1200s (likely from Old Norse), referring entirely to the physical motion of moving from side to side.  

      Swagger emerged in the late 1500s (popularised by Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night's Dream). It serves as a frequentative form of swag (which meant to sway heavily), morphing the physical, swinging movement of the body into a walk that projects a defiant form of confidence bordering on arrogance. 

      Swank traces its etymological lineage to the Proto-Germanic root meaning to swing one's hips or toss one's head with a heightened degree of expressiveness. It is also closely aligned with the Middle High German swanken (meaning to sway or totter). 

 

[4] I'm quoting from an interesting short piece by Enrica Picarelli titled 'Problematic Black Iconicity: the Swenkas' (13 April, 2026) and posted on her research blog Afrosartorialism. 

 

[5] We need to exercise a degree of caution here. Dr Picarelli is right to remind us that "this universalist reading is accurate but also problematic", as it implies that all experiences of - and sartorial responses to - poverty and exploitation are the same. 

      It's important to keep in mind that the swenkas are real individuals in a real time and place; that their revolt into style is not the same as that of a dozen Lawrentians cruising along Piccadilly wearing tight red trousers, or that of the young punks who assembled at 430 King's Road.

Wild, Wild, Wild Youth: A Hundred Years of Anarchy

  

Philip Gibbs: Young Anarchy (Hutchinson and Co., 1926)  

Sex Pistols: Anarchy in the U.K. (EMI, 1976)

 

'I have no tolerance with the spirit of anarchy which is threatening to destroy 

this country of ours; none with the open immorality of youth 

who are dancing their way to the Devil.' [1]

 

I.

 

As ageing punks across the land will know, this year marks the 50th anniversary of the release of 'Anarchy in the U.K.' - the debut single by the Sex Pistols; a four-piece rock group styled and (mis)managed by Malcolm McLaren, consisting of Steve Jones on guitar, Paul Cook on drums, Glen Matlock on bass, and frontman Johnny Rotten on vocals. 

 

Originally issued in a plain black sleeve [2], the single reached number 38 on the official UK Singles Chart despite EMI withdrawing the record and firing the band following the Bill Grundy Incident [3].

 

It remains one of the great pop songs: a clarion call to an entire generation of youth - or, more precisely, to that tiny minority of angry, alienated teens who aligned themselves with those described by Peter York as the "extreme ideological wing of the Peculiars" [4]. 

 

In other words, teens like me [5] who, even now, five decades later, still think it sounds fantastic: play here. 

 

(And some of you still naively imagine that The Clash are the only band that matters ...!)  

 

 

II.  

 

What ageing punks across the land will probably not know, however, is that this year also marks the 100th anniversary of the publication of Young Anarchy - a newsreel novel [6] by the largely-forgotten English journalist and author Philip Gibbs [7].   

 

Published soon after the General Strike (3-9 May, 1926) [8], the book explores generational divides and political tensions in post-War Britain, offering a fast-paced commentary on contemporary events. 

 

The punks of their day - so-called Jazz Age youth - are portrayed by Gibbs as rebels who reject old ideals of obedience and duty. Their rebellion - whether expressed through acts of cultural hedonism or radical left-wing politics - is framed as a desperate response to the horrors of the Great War.  

 

True to Gibbs's own political liberalism, the book's narrator acts as a well-meaning, moderate observer; one who expresses sympathy for workers fighting for fair wages, but at the same time strongly opposes militants who use industrial action to threaten national stability and young people seemingly out of control and happy to drink and dance their lives away. 

 

This, said of a group of what Gibbs terms Glad Young Things in 1926, might also have been written by some old fart observing the staff and customers of SEX in 1976: "Born into the beginning of a new epoch, with a new mentality [...] We of the older generation cannot catch them up or hold them back. They have escaped from us." [9] 

 

 

III. 

 

Ultimately, both the novel Young Anarchy and the single 'Anarchy in the U.K.' serve as vital, time-capsule dispatches from eras when British society felt precariously close to the edge. 

 

Whether processing the lingering trauma of the Great War through a mixture of decadence and hedonism in 1926, or venting the frustrations of economic collapse and cultural stagnation by gobbing and pogoing in 1976, both generations of youth terrified the establishment by refusing to inherit an untenable status quo. 

 

Gibbs's forgotten book reminds us that the instinct to tear it up and start again did not begin with safety pins and ripped t-shirts - it is, rather, a recurring British tradition born whenever the promises of the old order ring hollow. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] This is the reactionary Bishop of Burpham speaking - a character in the novel who does not approve of the younger generation openly jeering at religion and expressing revolutionary ideas. He finds them perplexing, distressing and terrifying: "They seem to me lawless, anarchical, and utterly lacking in any sense of duty and discipline." This includes his own son, Jocelyn, studying at Oxford where he encounters socialism, and his daughter, Nancy, who has published a successful (if somewhat racy) novel. Whilst he disowns them both, his sister, Elizabeth, is far more positive about her nephew and niece and the young generally in whom she sees great future potential.  

      The lines quoted are on p. 7 of the US edition of Philip Gibbs's Young Anarchy (published by George H. Doran, 1926) and available free online thanks to the New York Public Library.  

 

[2] There were only a couple of thousand copies of 'Anarchy in the U.K.' issued in the black sleeve; after that, it was sold in the standard EMI sleeve with a hole in the middle so the label information could easily be read. See the post on TTA titled 'But Malcolm, They'll Not Be Able to Find It ...' (24 March 2024). 

 

[3] 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 at the last minute, the Sex Pistols were offered the spot in order to promote their debut single, 'Anarchy in the U.K.', and explain what the new subcultural phenomenon called punk 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 - was 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 (keeping their £40,000 advance) and branded by the media as public enemies. The interview - click here - has become one of the most requested TV clips of all time.

 

[4] Peter York, 'Them', Harpers & Queen (October, 1976). Quoted by Paul Gorman in The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 329. 

 

[5] I was thirteen when 'Anarchy in the U. K.' was released, but I didn't fully commit to the punk cause until the summer of 1977 around the time of the Queen's Silver Jubilee, when it became clear that one was either for the Crown or the Sex Pistols.    

 

[6] Newsreel fiction refers to a literary technique in which a writer splices actual news headlines, advertising slogans, and historical documents directly into the text with the aim of capturing the chaotic public consciousness of an era increasingly shaped by the media. The style is famously used by American author John Dos Passos in his U.S.A. trilogy (1930-36). 

 

[7] Philip Gibbs (1877-1962) served as one of five official British war correspondents during the First World War and was determined to be a writer just like his father and four of his siblings, producing an astounding number of books in his lifetime. 

      One extremely knowledgeable blogger writes: "In many ways Philip Gibbs is the archetypal male middlebrow writer of the inter-war period. Immensely prolific, he appealed strongly to the thoughtful decent middle class, worried about the way the world was going and wary of extremes." See the post Philip Gibbs and 'Heirs Apparent' (3 June 2013) on George Simmers' blog Great War Fiction Plus. 

      On a later post  - The Novels of Philip Gibbs - a checklist (17 Dec 2017) - Simmers writes that whilst today many of Gibbs's novels are largely forgotten and remain "of more interest to the historian than to the connoisseur of literature", he is, nevertheless, a very readable and interesting writer. 

 

[8] Called by the TUC in solidarity with the miners, around 1.7 million transport, printing, dock, and heavy industry workers walked out, bringing much of Britain to a standstill. It is worth noting that in Gibbs's novel the General Strike is something of a turning point; suddenly, the Glad Young Things rally round for king and country and do their scabby bit by driving buses and working at the docks. Gibb's writes: "That youth of ours [...] so careless of criticism, such rebels against authority, so reckless of convention [...] played the game according to the rules, and in the spirit of the old tradition." [Young Anarchy, US edition, 1926, p. 309.]

      Similarly, many punks proved to be right-thinking people when push came to shove - even Johnny Rotten is now seen as a national treasure, who loved his mother, loved his wife, and didn't really mean those nasty things he said about Her Majesty, describing anarchy as a bourgeois fantasy only ever subscribed to by people like McLaren. Young Anarchy suggests that the essentially peaceful and liberal spirit of England will always win out against more extreme, revolutionary ideologies and perhaps that is in fact the case. 

      See George Simmers's review of Young Anarchy (20 Oct 2025) published on Reading 1900-1950 - a Sheffield Hallam University blog site concerned with readerships and literary cultures in this period. And see also an earlier review by Simmers of Gibbs's novel published on his own blog (29 June 2008) - click here - upon which the later piece is largely based.   

 

[9] Philip Gibbs, Young Anarchy (George H. Doran, 1926), p. 134. 

      This marks the novel's thematic resolution; the narrator finally accepts that society has shifted permanently into a new era, leaving his generation behind. 

 

And God Save Ronald Biggs

Jamie Reid promotional poster for the Sex Pistols' single 

'No One is Innocent' (Virgin Records, 1978)

 

Ronnie Rotten - he never sang for Scotland Yard, but he burst his lungs for the Sex Pistols ...

 

  

I. 

 

If you want to understand the Sex Pistols, then it probably helps to conceive of them more as an adolescent criminal gang, led by former art student Malcolm McLaren, who peddled anarchy and fetish fashion from their hideout on the King's Road, rather than simply a punk rock band fronted by Johnny Rotten [1]. 

 

Instead of chasing chart success and pop stardom, the idea was to generate cash from chaos, aestheticise evil, and celebrate the outlaw à la Jean Genet [2] who recognised in the ruthlessness and cunning of murderers and thieves a sunken beauty.  

 

Thus, for example, one of the earliest shirts sold at SEX featured the leather mask of the notorious Cambridge Rapist. And so it was that when Rotten was thrown overboard for collaborating with the record companies so as to establish a long-term, professional career in music, he was replaced not by some hopeless teen wannabe, but by Great Train Robber and fugitive Ronnie Biggs ... [3]  

 

 

II. 

 

Biggs, who had daringly escaped from Wandsworth Prison fifteen months into his thirty year sentence, was still wanted by the British authorities, but had immunity from extradition, having fathered a child in Brazil, where he had been living since 1970.

 

He and the two remaining Sex Pistols - Paul Cook and Steve Jones - got on well, writing and recording a new track together, entitled 'No One is Innocent' [4], which was released as a single on 30 June 1978, coupled with Sid's unique version of 'My Way'. Despite a (predictable) BBC ban, it reached number 7 in the UK Singles Chart [5]. Biggs also recorded a version of 'Belsen Was a Gas', which was included on the The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle soundtrack (1979) [6]. 

 

I know many people - including fans of the band - were either perplexed or pissed-off by McLaren's decision to replace Rotten with Biggs as the new singer with the Sex Pistols [8], but I tend to agree with Jamie Reid that it was a brilliant (and necessary) move which demonstrated an idea crucial to the pluralistic politics of The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle, namely, that anyone can be a Sex Pistol [9].

 

 

III.

 

In February 1978, McLaren joined Cook and Jones in Brazil. Filmmaker Julien Temple was also there to shoot the scenes with Biggs for the Swindle, including an expensive riverboat sequence to promote the new song, which had been recorded at a local 16-track studio with overdubs later added back in London at Wessex Studios, by audio engineer Bill Price. 

 

The thing is - and I think this is something even those who dismiss the track as simply a cynical attempt to stir controversy and grab headlines will admit - it does sound like a Sex Pistols track; even without Rotten on vocals. Thanks to Jones's distinctive guitar and Cook's solid work as always on drums, it has typical swagger and a huge amount of energy. 

 

And for those who, like me, appreciate the absurd anarchy of the Swindle rather than the austere monarchy of Never Mind the Bollocks, it's a fantastic single. 

 

To play 'No One is Innocent' (audio only) click here. 

 

To play (with official video using footage from The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980)), click here.

 

 

Sex Pistols (sans Rotten and Vicious): 

Jones / Rowland / McLaren / Cook /Biggs (1978)

 

      

Notes

 

[1] I think it's important to acknowledge that the key figure in the band was never really Rotten; it was Steve Jones, a semi-professional tea leaf with more than a dozen criminal convictions; someone described by Glen Matlock as resembling a character from a book by Jean Genet. 

 

[2] See the post 'God Save Jean Genet' (2 Feb 2026), in which the French writer is considered in relation to the Sex Pistols: click here. 

 

[3] Whilst I cannot go into too much detail here, I thought readers who are unfamiliar with the name and the robbery with which Biggs is forever associated, might appreciate a few lines of explanation ...

      Ronald Biggs was a petty criminal from South London who helped plan and carry out the Great Train Robbery on 8 August 1963 (his 34th birthday). Whilst in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) he is portrayed as the legendary mastermind behind the robbery, he actually had a very minor role. 

      The gang got away with £2.6 million (equivalent to around £70 million today), so a considerable sum of money then as now and the holding up of a Royal Mail train travelling from Glasgow to London was an enormous story in the British press, dominating headlines for weeks afterwards and remaining in the cultural imagination ever since. For some people it still remains the crime of the century and, despite what happened to the train's driver, Jack Mills, the robbers are often regarded as folk heroes who got one over the authorities. For even though Biggs and eleven other gang members were arrested just three weeks after the robbery and received long prison sentences, most of the money was never recovered.

      Biggs subsequently became notorious for his escape from prison in July 1965, living thereafter as a fugitive in foreign exile (and with a new identity) for thirty-six years. The money - as it always does - soon ran out (mostly on legal fees and other expenses relating to his exile, although £40,000 also went on plastic surgery), so Biggs was obliged to do whatever he could to secure and income - including the selling of his soul for punk.  

      In 2001, feeling increasingly homesick - telling friends that he longed to walk into an English boozer once more and order a pint -  he announced to The Sun newspaper that he would be willing to return to the UK. Still having twenty-eight years of his sentence left to serve, he was aware that he would be detained upon arrival in Britain and spend time in prison: which he did. However, due to his health rapidly declining, he was (eventually) released on compassionate grounds in August 2009 (two days before his 80th birthday and having served a third of his original sentence). 

      Biggs died in a North London nursing home on 18 December 2013. His body was cremated at Golders Green Crematorium on 3 January 2014. The coffin was covered with the flags of the UK and Brazil (and a Charlton Athletic scarf). An honour guard of British Hells Angels escorted his hearse to the crematorium.

 

[4] Before Virgin vetoed the idea, the track was originally to be called 'Cosh the Driver', tastelessly referencing the fact that during the robbery the driver of the intercepted train, Jack Mills, was blugeoned with an iron bar. Mills never fully recovered from his serious head injuries - nor overcome the trauma of what he had experienced - although he died of an unrelated cause (leukaemia), in 1970. 

      The 12" single - which I bought along with the 7" - came with a different sleeve, featuring a still from The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (dir. Julien Temple, 1980) in which the American actor Henry Rowland (dressed as Nazi on the run Martin Bormann; a role he had played in a number of Russ Meyer movies) is shown playing bass alongside Jones on guitar, Cook on drums, and Biggs on lead vocals. It also came with a different title: 'The Biggest Blow - A Punk Prayer by Ronnie Biggs' (Virgin Records, 1979).  

 

[5] The single was not released in the US and failed to chart in other overseas territories. 

 

[6] Readers might be surprised to learn that this was not Biggs's first outing as a recording artist. For Biggs, an avid jazz fan, had previously collaborated in 1974 with three musicians to make a musical narrative of his life entitled Mailbag Blues. The album was finally released in 2004 (whatmusic.com) and is "a fusion of experimental jazz, blues and funk, with echoes of Brazilian styles such as tropicalia and bossa nova" and although Biggs doesn't actually sing on the record, he is credited as inspiration and storyteller. See Alex Bellos, 'Ronnie Biggs: the album', in The Guardian (1 Sept 2004): click here. To listen to the title track - 'Mailbag Blues' - please click here. 

      Biggs also had a post-Pistols recording career; in 1991, he provided vocals for the songs 'Police on My Back' and 'Carnival in Rio' by German punk band Die Toten Hosen, and two years later Biggs sang on three tracks for the album Bajo Otra Bandera by Argentinian punk band Pilsen. You can find some of these songs on YouTube, but, frankly, I'd not bother.

 

[7] McLaren's original plan was for the group - including Rotten - to fly down to Rio de Janeiro after the final US show in San Francisco, so that they could be filmed performing with Biggs. Paul Gorman writes: "The combination of the UK's most wanted felon cavorting with the world's most hated group amid the favelas during Carnival was too good an opportunity to let pass, McLaren believed." 

      But Rotten wanted nothing to do with the idea and his refusal to comply with McLaren's latest scheme effectively brought the curtain down on his career as a Sex Pistol. Interestingly, Gorman is sympathetic to the singer here: 

      "With justification, Lydon viewed Biggs as a charmless nerk rather than an anti-hero deserving of glorification, not least since the train driver in Biggs's gang crime had suffered severe brain damage from injuries inflicted upon him during the raid."

      See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), pp. 386 and 388. 

 

[8] Jamie Reid would later explain:

      "'One of the things we were aware of was the need never to remain still, never to become stagnant. After three or four records have come out there begins to be a typical punk fan, who identifies with the band the way fans always do. When Rotten left and we put in Ronnie Biggs, they couldn't understand. It seemed a good idea to us.'"

      Quoted by Paul Gorman in The Life and Times of Malcolm Mclaren, p. 402. 

God Save Jean Genet

Sex Pistols ft. Jean Genet (SA/2026)

Photo credits: Sex Pistols by Bob Gruen (1976) 

and Jean Genet by Brassaï (1948)   

 

Beauty is the projection of ugliness and to achieve harmony in bad taste 

is the height of style ...

 

 

I.

 

Jean Genet (1910–1986) was a seminal French writer and political activist whose life was defined by his transition from a marginalized outcast to a celebrated avant-garde icon. 

 

Born to a prostitute mother and placed into foster care, he spent his youth banged up in reformatories and prisons for crimes including theft and vagrancy [1], before joining the Foreign Legion at eighteen, from which he was dishonourably discharged on grounds of indecency (that is to say, well, I think we can all imagine what he was caught doing). 

 

After this, Genet stole and slept his way round Europe as a tea leaf and rent boy, before ending up in and out of prison in Paris; experiences that served as the primary inspiration for his lyrical debut novel, Notre-Dame des Fleurs (1943) [2].

 

Genet's later work - which includes novels such as Journal du voleur (1949) [3] and plays such as Les Bonnes (1947) [4] - is renowned for its stylised (but uncompromising) exploration of power and the beauty of evil, as well as the subversion of social hierarchies and the transgression of traditional morality (often giving iconic status to outlaws and outcasts, punks and queers).   

 

 

II.

 

Genet was championed by both Jean Cocteau and Jean-Paul Sartre [5] and, in his later years, following the events of May '68, he became increasingly active politically, advocating for all kinds of oppressed groups and radical causes and participating in various demonstrations. 

 

In 1970, Genet spent three months in the United States at the invite of the Black Panthers, before then spending six months visiting Palestinian refugee camps in Jordan [6]. He also became pally with Foucault during this time and, in his experimental text Glas (1974), Jacques Derrida contrasted Genet's ideas on crime, homosexuality and all the reste with Hegel's philosophy, in order to deconstruct traditional concepts of the law, family, and the ideal of Wholeness (or the Absolute) [7].   

 

Like Joe Strummer, Genet expressed solidarity with the Red Army Faction (or Baader-Meinhof Gang); a militant far-left group designated as a terrorist organisation by the West German government, publishing an article titled Violence et brutalité in Le Monde (2 Sept. 1977) [8]. 

 

Whilst Strummer was, of course, simply posing in a T-shirt - the Clash specialised in radical chic - Genet was driven by a deep-seated hatred for Western imperialism and French bourgeois society in particular; in 1985, the year before his death, he informed a shocked interviewer from the BBC that he loathed France so much that he had even supported the Nazis when they invaded Paris. 

  

 

III. 

  

Whilst Genet never collaborated with the Sex Pistols - nor ever refer to them in his writings or interviews - it's tempting to imagine that he would have found McLaren and Westwood's tiny shop at 430 King's Road a conceptual space very much to his liking, promoting as it did anarchy, sexual deviance, and the kind of transgressive behaviour that he seemed so excited by.

 

And if we define the denizens of 430 King's Road as Peter York once famously defined them - "the extreme ideological wing of the peculiars" [9] - or, alternatively, recall the description of them from the trailer to The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) - "a kamikaze gang of cat burglers and child prostitutes" [10] - then it's possible that Genet would have identified with the Sex Pistols and acknowledged how his legacy found youthful expression via punk [11]. 

 

But, again, just to be clear - there is no evidence of a direct relationship between Jean Genet and the Sex Pistols and I don't remember Malcolm ever mentioning his name, whereas he would often refer to other poets and playwrights he admired, such as Oscar Wilde and Joe Orton. The speculative connection suggested here is largely based on the fact that both McLaren and Genet understood style as a form of refusal and aligned themselves with the counterculture. 

 

On the other hand, however, it's worth noting that while Genet may have appreciated the SEX and Seditionaries aesthetic, by the mid-1970s he had become increasingly cynical about art and theatrical rebellion and so it's possible that he would have dismissed punk as just another fashion and commercial commodification, rather than something genuinely subversive or dangerous - who knows? 

  

 

Notes 

 

[1] Genet's mother raised him for the first seven months of his life before placing him for adoption (one likes to believe she did so with good intentions and was putting the child's interests first). According to his biographer, his foster family was loving and attentive. Neverthless, his childhood involved numerous attempts to run away and incidents of petty criminality (even whilst the obviously bright boy got good grades at school). Eventually, aged fifteen, Genet was sent to a brutal penal colony, where he spent three unhappy years. 

 

[2] The first English edition, trans. Bernard Frechtman, was published as Our Lady of the Flowers in 1949. 

 

[3] The first English edition, trans. Bernard Frectman, was published as The Thief's Journal (1964).

 

[4] This work was again first translated into English by Bernard Frechtman and was published as The Maids by Grove Press in the United States (1954), and by Faber in the UK (1957). A famous film adaptation, dir. Christopher Miles and starring Glenda Jackson and Susannah York, was released in cinemas in 1975.

 

[5] When Genet arrived in Paris, he sought out and introduced himself to Jean Cocteau and the latter, impressed by his writing, used his contacts to help get Genet's first novel published. 

      Later, in 1949, when Genet was threatened with a life sentence after notching up ten convictions, Cocteau and other prominent intellectuals, including Jean-Paul Sartre, successfully petitioned the French President to have the sentence set aside. In gratitude - and perhaps realising there was more money to be made from art than crime - Genet stayed on the straight and narrow after this (or, at any rate, he avoided being caught doing anything that might return him to a prison cell).

      By this date, Genet had completed five novels, three plays, and numerous poems, many controversial for their explicit and often deliberately provocative portrayal of homosexuality and criminality. In 1952, Sartre wrote a long analysis of Genet's existential development (from vagrant to writer), entitled Saint Genet. Profoundly affected by Sartre's analysis, Genet did not write for the next five years, during which time he became emotionally attached to Abdallah Bentaga, a tightrope walker. Following Bentaga's suicide in 1964, Genet entered a period of depression and attempted to end his own life.

 

[6] A memoir detailing his encounters with Palestinian fighters and Black Panthers was published posthumously; see Un captif amoureux (Gallimard, 1986). Translated into English by Barbara Bray and with an introduction by Edmund White, it was published by Picador as The Prisoner of Love (1989).      

 

[7] The English translation of Derrida's book, by John P. Leavey, Jr. and Richard Rand, was published by the University of Nebraska Press, in 1986. A more recent translation, by Geoffrey Bennington and David Wills, was published with the title Clang by the University of Minnesota Press in 2021. 

 

[8] This Le Monde piece can be found in Jean Genet, The Declared Enemy: Texts and Interviews, ed. Albert Dichy, trans. Jeff Fort (Stanford University Press, 2004), pp. 171-177. 

      According to the blurb for this book, Genet affirms a heroic politics of protest and revolt with "an uncompromising outrage". In other words, it's that depressing mix of militant asceticism and pathological narcissism that I genuinely despise. In fact, the only thing I hate Genet for more is his reported sexual abuse of the eleven-year-old daughter of his friend and fellow writer Monique Lange. Viewers interested in knowing more about this should see the unconventional docu-drama Little Girl Blue (2023), written and directed by Mona Achache, and starring Marion Cottilard: click here to watch the trailer.

 

[9] This wonderful description of McLaren and company was coined by Peter York in an article entitled 'Them' which appeared in Harpers & Queen (October 1976). It was quoted by Paul Gorman in The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 329. 

 

[10] Click here to watch the trailer to The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (dir. Julien Temple, 1980); the film that incriminates its audience. The narrator is the famous BBC newsreader John Snagge.

 

[11] Of all the Sex Pistols, I think it would have been guitarist Steve Jones whom the Frenchman would have found the most appealing. For as Glen Matlock once rightly observed, it was Jones who was the true spirit of the band and "like a character out of Jean Genet book [...] a real livewire scoundrel, unabashedly so".   

      Matlock was speaking in an interview with Matt Catchpole; see 'Trigger Happy - Sex Pistol Glen Matlock on Life as a Solo Performer and New Album Good To Go' (26 June, 2018): click here. Matlock later repeats this observation in an interview with Dave Steinfeld; see  'Glen Matlock - Truth or Consequences: Talking with the original Sex Pistol about politics and punk rock', on the website Rock and Roll Globe (18 May 2023): click here. 

 

 

For a sister post to this one on Joe Orton, click here. 

  

Musical bonus: Sex Pistols, 'L'Anarchie Pour Le UK', from the album The Great Rock n' Roll Swindle (Virgin Records, 1979), uploaded to YouTube by Universal Music Group: click here. The vocalist is Loius Brennon and he is backed by his merry band of street musicians on accordian and fiddle.  

 

Flogging a Dead Reindeer

Image posted to Instagram on 24 Dec 2025 

by $teve Jone$ @jonesysjukebox

 

 

I. 

 

Marx famously predicted that within modern capitalism all values would be reduced not to zero, but resolved into one final, fatal value; i.e., commercial or exchange value. 

 

Thus it is that bourgeois society does not efface old structures and insititutions - including punk rock bands - but subsumes them. Old modes do not die; they get recuperated into the marketplace, take on price tags, become commodities.

 

And so it is we witness three ex-Pistols and a grinning wannabe Johnny Rotten hawking their merchandise via social media even on Christmas eve. This includes a 'God Save the Queen' seasonal jumper which they model in the above photos [1].    

 

 

II. 

 

This shouldn't surprise anyone: Malcolm - in collaboration with Jamie Reid and Julien Temple - warned what would happen in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) and the grim reality of the fate that awaited the band was made explicit in the album titles Some Product: Carri On Sex Pistols (1979) and Flogging a Dead Horse (1980).  

 

And I have written several posts on this subject; see, for example, the post dated 12 June, 2015 in which I discuss the issuing of a Sex Pistols credit card on Virgin Money (in two designs): click here.  

 

But, even so, I still find it sad and depressing to see the Sex Pistols - now a punk rock brand - selling Never Mind the Bollocks Christmas baubles (at £18 each) [2]. 

 

And it makes me despise an economic system which, on the one hand, equalises and makes everything the same, whilst, on the other hand, encouraging all modes of conduct and permitting all manner of thinking, providing they are economically viable and turn a nice profit. 

 

I am not a Marxist: but, in as much as capitalism leaves no other nexus between people than naked self-interest and cash payment [3] - and in as much as it infects every sphere of activity (including the arts) with the same greed and vulgarity - I do find myself experiencing (à la Ursula Brangwen) a feeling of "harsh and ugly disillusion" [4]. 

 

And so, I'm almost tempted this Christmas to invoke that exterminating angel dreamed of by Deleuze and Guattari; the one who will consummate capitalism by fucking the rich up the arse and transmitting "the decoded flows of desire" [5]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Readers can purchase this synthetic knitted jumper (it's only 8% wool), priced £60, from the Sex Pistols official website store: click here. 

 

[2] Again, head to the official Sex Pistols website shop: click here. 

 

[3] I am paraphrasing from memory what Marx and Engels write in The Communist Manifesto (1848).  

 

[4] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, ed. Mark Kinkead-Weekes (Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 403. 

 

[5] Deleuze and Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (The Athlone Press, 1994), p. 35.  

 

 

Xmas bonus: Julien Temple's hour-long documentary Christmas with the Sex Pistols (2013), featuring footage from their last UK concert on Christmas Day, 1977: click here. It was first shown on BBC Four on Boxing Day 2013.   

 

 

On the Three Punk Graces: Vivienne, Jordan, and Soo Catwoman

The Three Punk Graces: Soo, Jordan & Vivienne 

(SA/2025)

 

 

I.

 

The ancient Greeks may have famously had their Charites, but punk mythology has given us our very own version of the three Graces ...

 

Vivienne, Jordan, and Soo Catwoman may not have personified Classical notions of charm, beauty, and elegance, but they did embody the McLarenesque virtues of sex, style, and subversion; not so much the daughters of Zeus, as the offspring of Kháos (i.e., born of  a reality outside the known, familiar, and reliable world in which most people choose to make their home). 

 

 

II. 

 

Jordan, or Pamela Rooke as many commentators now insist on calling her (presumably in an attempt to unveil what they think of as the real human being beneath the beehive and facepaint and intimidating sexual persona) [1], was always more than just a superstar sales assistant; she was effectively the gatekeeper controlling access to 430 Kings Road, the sanctum sanctorum of punk, ensuring that the clothes were only worn by those who deserved to wear them [2].  

 

Everybody's favourite bleached platinum-blonde was the one who embodied the ethos and aesthetic of SEX so perfectly that we might legitimately call her the first Sex Pistol. And so it was only right that Jordan was the one to introduce the band on their first TV appearance in August 1976, attempting to inject a little further chaos into the proceedings by dancing and rearranging the furniture at the side of the stage [3]. 

 

Crucially, not only was Jordan willing to transform herself into a walking work of art and wear McLaren and Westwood's designs no matter how outrageous, but, when required to do so, she was also prepared to flash the flesh and get her tits out for the cause; stripped on stage by Johnny Rotten, for example [4], or posing with Vivienne and other members of the SEX fraternity for a notorious series of photos in the shop taken by David Dagley [5]. 

 

 

III. 

 

Although she wasn't a member of the Bromley Contingent, Sue Lucas - better known as Soo Catwoman - was a crucial (and much photographed) figure on London's early punk scene and a confidente of the Sex Pistols, at one time sharing a flat with Sid Vicious.  

 

Her distinctive feline image was so powerful that she was even chosen to feature on the front cover of the first (and only) edition of the official Sex Pistols' fanzine, Anarchy in the U. K. [6] and she was widely acknowledged - even by Rotten - as being one of the true creators of punk style.     

 

It goes without saying that I will always have affection for Miss Lucas - despite Bertie Marshall's less than flattering portrait of her [7]. But I can't say I'm impressed with her belated attempt to reclaim, protect, and market her own extraordinary look, in the naive belief - common amongst many punks - that authenticity is of absolute importance and that style is something that cannot (and should not) be copied [8]. 

 

IV. 

 

Finally, we come to the queen bee herself: Vivienne Westwood ... 

 

If, as argued here, Jordan was the one who put the sex in the Sex Pistols - and Soo was the Sex Pistols' devotee who demonstrated that theirs was first and foremost a revolt into style - then Vivienne, in collaboration with her partner Malcolm McLaren, was the woman who not only politicised sex and weaponised style with her fabulous clothes, but encouraged an entire generation to think it reasonable to demand the impossible. 

 

If, in her later years, Westwood became - like so many of the punk generation - increasingly irritating, it remains the case that she was an astonishing and massively influential figure and, as with Jordan and Soo Catwoman, I will always think of her with a certain fondness and admiration. 

 

In fact, despite certain competing loyalties, I feel increasingly generous toward Westwood in the years between 1971 and 1984 (i.e., the years stretching from Let It Rock to Worlds End when she was involved - in one way or another and for better or for worse - with McLaren).  

 

I would even go so far as to say that no one - not Jordan or Johnny Rotten, Soo Catwoman or Steve Jones - ever looked as magnificent as Westwood in her own designs and no one was as messianic about punk at the time as Vivienne, as this lovely photograph taken outside Seditionaries in the summer of 1977 by Elisa Leonelli illustrates:   

 

 

Notes

 

[1] It might be noted that Jordan chose the unisex autonym when aged 14, long before punk, so it was more than merely a nickname.   

 

[2] As she told one interviewer in 2016: 

      "Some people would come in the shop and just want to grab something because they had money and I would say [...] 'You can’t buy that. You shouldn't buy that, it's not for you'. [...] I wasn't prepared to sell things that looked awful on people just because they had the money to buy it. It would have been bastardising something beautiful just for the money." 

      McLaren and Westwood endorsed this policy of only selling things to those who could justify their wanting to purchase a piece of clothing (i.e., individuals who had the right attitude and shared their ideological perspective). 

      Following Jordan's death, the interview was reproduced in Dazed magazine (22 April 2022): click here.

 

[3] I'm referring of course to the band's brutally intense performance of 'Anarchy in the U. K.' on So It Goes, presented by Tony Wilson (Granada Television, 28 August 1976); one of the great moments in televised rock 'n' roll history, watched by an amused Peter Cook and an outraged Clive James. 

      Jordan, who has been asked by the show's producers to cover up the swastika armband on her Anarchy shirt, announces the Sex Pistols by declaring them to be "if possible, even better than the lovely Joni Mitchell": click here to watch the entire episode on YouTube. Jordan appears (briefly) at 1:09-1:14. And the band are introduced by Wilson beginning 21:14 ... Bakunin would've loved it.       

  

[4] The gig I'm referring to when Jordan graced the stage with the Sex Pistols and ended up topless took place at Andrew Logan's Studio, on 14 February, 1976.  

 

[5] The photos by Dagley were taken to illustrate an interview Westwood gave to Len Richmond for the adult magazine Forum, in which she discussed the kinky sexual politics she and Malcolm were promoting (involving bondage and rubber wear). As well as Jordan and Westwood, Steve Jones, Danielle Lewis, Alan Jones, and Chrissie Hynde, also pose provocatively for the pictures. They can be viewed on Shutterstock: click here.

 

[6] The 12 page fanzine, designed by Jamie Reid in collaboration with Sophie Richmond, Vivienne Westwood, Malcolm McLaren, and photographer Ray Stevenson, was intended to be sold on the 'Anarchy' tour in December 1976.  

 

[7] See p. 68 of Marshall's memoir - Berlin Bromley (SAF Publishing Ltd., 2007) - where he describes Lucas as a wannabe member of the Bromely Contingent who not only slept with everyone's boyfriend, but essentially just barged her way on to the scene; "she thought she could replace Jordan but didn't have the charisma or the originality, she was in the right place at the right time with that one look".  

 

[8] I discuss this topic at greater length in the post 'Of Clowns and Catwomen' (8 December 2016): click here.  

 

Bonus 1: An interview with Jordan by Miranda Sawyer for an episode of The Culture Show entitled 'Girls will be Girls', (BBC2, 2014): click here.  

 

Bonus 2: Soo Catwoman singing 'Backstabbers' (Spit Records, 2010); her version of the O'Jays 1972 hit: click here.

 

Bonus 3: Finally, here's an amusing piece of film from the BBC archive showing a bemused Derek Nimmo getting a punk makeover courtesy of Vivienne Westwood, while Jordan and members of the Sex Pistols watch on. The clip is from Just A Nimmo, originally broadcast 24 March, 1977: click here.  

 

 

For a sister post to this one on three more punk graces - Siouxsie Sioux, Poly Styrene, and Helen of Troy - please click here.