A Little Slice of Post-Punk Music History: How Lieutenant Lush Became Boy George

Annabella Lwin and George O'Dowd (Lt. Lush)

Photo by Kevin Cummins (1981)

 

Sex gang children gang up on you, jump on top, on top of you 

Make love, make love, make love to you, one two three four five miles high

 

 

I.

 

Not a lot of people know - even among those who might possibly care to know - that before finding pop stardom as Boy George with the band Culture Club [1], 19-year-old George O'Dowd was briefly an associate member of Bow Wow Wow. He even twice performed on stage with them under the name Lieutenant Lush. 

 

To understand how that came about - and to uncover the origin of this rather odd-sounding alias - we must travel back to Paris in 1980. There we find former Sex Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren trying to engineer his next move.  

 

Keen to discover a fresh sound, McLaren chances upon the Burundi beat. In his mind, this connects him to the primal origin of rock 'n' roll, just as images of Geronimo and Black Beard suggest the possibility of a new, more romantic look to go with the music - part Apache, part pirate, and - crucially - post-punk.  

 

At the same time, McLaren was also hoping to find financial backing for his own film company - Tour D'Eiffel Productions [2] - which would specialise in porn projects aimed at a pre-teen audience. Paul Gorman writes (disapprovingly) that McLaren's thinking in this area was shaped by his "radical political grounding" and the "countercultural conceit" [3] that children should be accorded full agency. 

 

These projects included 'The Mile High Club', for which he had written a speculative script "revolving around an orgy on an inflight plane" [4], featuring such colourful characters as Jimmy the Hoover and ... Lieutenant Lush [5].        

 

 

II.  

 

After agreeing in the winter of 1979 to act as a mentor and creative consultant to Adam Ant for a four-week period and receiving a fixed fee of £1000, McLaren worked closely with the Ants - guitarist Matthew Ashman, drummer Dave Barbarossa, and new bassist Leigh Gorman - soon bonding with them. 

 

In fact, McLaren grew so close to the three musicians and recognised their puppet potential that he decided they should "provide the backdrop for a younger and more easily manipulated performer" [6] than 25-year-old Adam. And so he persuaded the band "to announce to Ant that they no longer wanted to work with him" [7].

 

The band then embarked on a lengthy but fruitless and frustrating audition process in an attempt to find a suitable lead singer. Fortunately, fate lent a hand when talent scout Dave Fishel encountered 13-year-old Annabella Lwin singing along to the radio at a West Hampstead dry cleaners where she worked. 

 

Impressed by her vocal ability and her youthful good looks - her warm skin tone the result of her bi-racial heritage (Anglo-Burmese) - Fishel persuaded McLaren to audition her. 

 

Shortly after, despite the fact she was completely untutored "and was largely unaware of pop music beyond a liking for Stevie Wonder" [8], Annabella joined the group and suddenly - magically - everything seemed to fall into place. They had the sound, they had the look, and now they had the teenage singer that McLaren desperately wanted (his Eliza Doolittle). 

 

However, that old showbiz maxim about never working with children (and their interfering mothers) soon came back to bite McLaren and the older members of the band and it wasn't long before they began thinking of a possible replacement for Annabella ... Enter George O'Dowd ...  

 

 

III.  

George was always going to be a star. But it's also indisputable that meeting McLaren and briefly working with Bow Wow Wow in 1980-81 was an important stepping-stone for his career. For although his association with the band only lasted a few months, it catalysed the formation of Culture Club.

 

Apart from growing impatient with Annabella, McLaren hoped that by recruiting George to the band's lineup he could inject something extra into the mix; perhaps a little more visual drama and queer romanticism (McLaren was obsessed at this time with homosexuality as a challenge to heteronormative values). 

 

McLaren gave George the stage name Lieutenant Lush. His role was to provide a soulful, vocal presence that would contrast to the band's signature Burundi beat and punk energy. He only performed live at two of the band's shows, but immediately stole the spotlight - which didn't go down well with Annabella and the boys and it was immediately obvious to McLaren that either she had to go or George had to go.

 

Whether he tossed a coin to decide who should stay and who should leave, I don't know. But it was George who was shown the door in the spring of 1981. However, as in the case of Adam Ant, this dismissal was ultimately a blessing in disguise. 

 

Confident that he could hold a tune and command a stage - and keen to have his revenge on Malcolm and show him what a mistake he'd made in sacking him - George decided to form his own group. And this group - whom he considered at one point naming the Sex Gang Children [9] - would find global fame as Culture Club - once they found their own identity and stopped trying to sound like Bow Wow Wow [10].        

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Culture Club had their first big hit with the release of the single 'Do You Really Want to Hurt Me', which got to number one in the UK and number two in the US. The track was taken from their debut album Kissing to Be Clever (Virgin Records, 1982). It's not my cup of tea at all - but George looks good in the video directed by Julien Temple.   

 

[2] French speakers will point out that this is a misspelling (whether deliberate or otherwise) on McLaren's part; that the company's name should technically be 'Tour Eiffel', and not 'Tour D'Eiffel'. I reproduce an image of the company letterhead in a post titled 'From the Office of Malcolm McLaren' (26 Oct 2022).   

 

[3] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 437. For Gorman, these and related projects to do with underage sexual activity "represented the development of the most tiresome, not to say misguided and divisive, aspect of McLaren's creative outpourings" (437).  

 

[4] Ibid., p. 436. Another of McLaren's proposed film projects mentioned by Gorman was 'The Adventures of Melody, Lyric & Tune' - "a musical about the three titular fifteen-year-old girls featuring songs written by McLaren" (437), including a track that Bow Wow Wow would later record, 'Sexy Eiffel Towers' (it's included on their debut mini-album Your Casstte Pet, (EMI, 1980) and features on various compilation albums). 

 

[5] As this is a post about Lt. Lush and not Jimmy the Hoover, I don't want to say too much about the latter here. Not that there is much to say and details are vague. Originally conceived by McLaren as a kids' comic character (and an expert in the art of oral sex), there was no person as such. 

      Later, McLaren would put together a band of this name intended as a support act for Bow Wow Wow. They joined the ranks of one-hit wonders thanks to the single 'Tantalise (Wo Wo Ee Yeh Yeh)', released in June 1983 (Innervision Records). Again, it's really not my cup of tea - and I'm not particularly taken with the band's look in this video directed by Derek Jarman.     

 

[6-7] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, p. 448. The only thing more creatively daring (if commercially reckless) than pushing Adam out of his own band, was making Rotten walk the plank in January 1978 at the end of the Sex Pistols American tour. 

      To his great credit, Ant licked his wounds, assembled a new band with the brilliant guitarist Marco Pirroni, and, putting all the ideas that Malcolm had given him into practice, he went on to find global success. His first big hit single in the UK - 'Dog Eat Dog' (the opening track on the Adam and the Ants' album Kings of the Wild Frontier (1980) - featured the Burundi beat and significantly outsold the debut single by Bow Wow Wow - 'C·30 C·60 C·90 Go!' (although, of course, selling records and becoming a successful pop group really wasn't the point as far as McLaren was concerned). Both are fantastic songs, though it's the latter - with lyrics by McLaren encouraging home taping - that has the more subversive political edge. Readers can decide for themselves which they prefer by clicking on the links provided.      

 

[8] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, p. 451.  

 

[9] This provocative phrase - sex gang children - was a favourite of McLaren's; one that he coined after reading The Wild Boys: A Book of the Dead (1971), a novel by William S. Burroughs. He incorporated it into the lyrics for the Bow Wow Wow track 'The Mile High Club', which can be found on several compilation albums, including I Want Candy (EMI, 1982).  

      Whilst I think we can all agree that George wisely chose not to go with this as the name of his new band - drummer Jon Moss was having none of it - it was picked up by his friend Andi for his own gothic punk outfit (at that time known as Panic Button). 

      The Sex Gang Children would not achieve the level of commercial success achieved by Culture Club, but they did establish themselves as Batcave favourites and influenced the later dark cabaret scene. Their only studio album - Song and Legend (Illuminated Records, 1983) - reached the top of the UK Indie Chart and produced the brilliant single 'Sebastiane' which is ten times better than anything Culture Club came up with - Eat your children baked in a pie! 

 

[10] As Paul Gorman says, Culture Club soon transcended their influences and we have to acknowledge that Boy George, like Adam Ant, showed huge strength of character (as well considerable skills as a songwriter and performer). McLaren later dismissed him as "strictly a commercial enterprise" lacking any subversive edge, which may be true, but it sounds a wee bit like sour grapes. See The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, p. 476.   

 

 

Notes from the Labyrinth on Picasso and the Minotaur

Picasso becoming-minotaur

Photo by Edward Quinn (1959) 

 

'If you marked on a map all of the routes I've made and connected the dots 

with a single line, might not a Minotaur emerge?' - Picasso 

 

I. 

 

Yesterday, I finally got along to the exhibition of ceramics and works on paper by Picasso at the Halcyon Gallery [1], featuring over 130 original pieces, which essentially confirm something that even his critics and detractors know deep down; namely, that Picasso was the greatest artist of the 20th century.   

 

As much as I loved his works, however, I think my favourite image was a photograph by Edward Quinn taken of Picasso masquerading as the Minotaur in his studio in 1959 ... 

 

 

II. 

 

Picasso was obsessed with this taurean figure from Greek mythology, who was famously part man and part bull, and dwelt at the centre of the Labyrinth [2]. 

 

The Minotaur became a powerful symbol of desire, violence, and horror in Picasso's artwork and some authors like to imagine that he also served as Picasso's alter-ego, embodying the cruelty, lust, and virile vulnerability present in his own character and complex personal life [3]. 

 

But of course, Picasso wasn't the only artist who identified in terms of the Minotaur; many of the Surrealists (and associated artists) in the 1930s were also fascinated by this mythical monster, which is why when, in 1933, a title was needed for a new magazine Bataille suggested Minotaure and his pal André Masson excitedly agreed to design a cover for the first edition. 

 

But then Picasso - ever alert to what was going on and not slow in cheerfully stealing ideas and jumping on the lastest trend - co-opted the idea of the Minotaur and, with André Breton's support, not only produced an elaborate image for the magazine's cover, but also supplied four other drawings to be used, insisting that the lead article, to be written by Breton, promoted his vision of the Minotaur.    

 

Whether this makes Picasso the 'fat little magpie' that Adam and the Ants once described him as, or just someone with a genius for seizing the moment and self-promotion (a bit like David Bowie), I'll let readers decide [4]. 

 

 

III. 

 

Despite being published rather irregularly (due to financial considertions), Minotaure (1933-39) proved to be a great success and had a wide circulation in most European countries. 

 

Far superior in quality to most other arts magazines of the period, it was beautifully illustrated and had covers by prominent artists including Matisse, Miró, and Dalí. Not only did it contain articles on the plastic arts and literature, but also music, theatre, philosophy, psychoanalysis, anthropology, esotericism and all things avant-garde. 

 

Whilst not originally intended to be a surrealist publication per se, Breton and his chums on the editorial committee naturally exerted a huge (and ever-increasing) influence on it and Minotaure became a significant element in Surrealism's rise from a relatively obscure circle of poets, artists, and intellectuals in the 1920s to a major movement of 20th century art. 

 

 

Minotaure (Issue 1 - June 1933) 

Cover by Picasso

 

  

Notes

 

[1] Picasso: A Legacy (16 Oct 2025 - 4 Jan 2026) at the Halcyon Gallery (148 New Bond Street, London, W1): for further information and to view selected works, click here. 

 

[2] The Labyrinth was an elaborate maze-like construction designed by Daedalus and his son Icarus, acting upon command of King Minos of Crete. Every nine years the people of Athens were forced to choose seven noble youths and seven beautiful virgins to be offered as sacrificial victims to the Minotaur. He was eventually slain by the Athenian hero Theseus.  

 

[3] See, for example, John Richardson, A Life of Picasso: Volume IV: The Minotaur Years 1933-43 (Jonathan Cape, 2022).

 

[4] To be fair to Picasso, it's not as if he stole an original idea from Bataille and Masson; the Ancient Greek legend of the Minotaur had been popular for some years in intellectual circles and had already been referenced in the work of several other writers and artists. 

      The Adam and the Ants song I'm referring to is 'Picasso Visita el Planeta de los Simios', which can be found on the Prince Charming album (CBS, 1981) and played on YouTube by clicking here.     

 

  

In Praise of Hobble Skirts and Bondage Suits

Jordan and Vivienne having a fag break outside Seditionaries in 1977 

wearing bondage suits as a fashionable young Edwardian 

in a hobble skirt time hops from 1911  

 

 

I. 

 

It's funny, but one of the paradoxical lessons of fashion is that restricting the movement of the body can liberate the wearer. We see this, for example, in the Edwardian era (1901-1910) and in the even briefer punk period ruled by McLaren and Westwood (1974-80); the former giving us the hobble skirt and the latter the bondage suit ... 

 

 

II.

 

The English word hobble probably has a Dutch-German etymology. 

 

But whatever its origin, it means the same thing: you're not going to walk evenly, quickly, or very comfortably once you've been hobbled. In other words, hobbling is a technique for the production of artificial awkwardness; one that causes the individual to shuffle, sway, and - if not careful - lose balance and stumble.          

 

The hobble skirt, which came with an outrageously narrow hem circumference of less than 36 inches, was very popular with those fashionable few in the know. The design was so extreme that some hobble skirts impeded a woman's stride to a mere six inches (i.e., about four times less than normal). 

 

Now, I know that some feminist fashion historians interpret this in a purely negative light. But it might be argued that the hobble skirt was a way in which newly emancipated women experimented with their own freedom (their own bodies, their own clothing) and mocked the Victorian idea that they were vulnerable and in need of male protection and assistance by pushing it to a ludicrous extreme. 

 

Ultimately, whatever the politics of the hobble skirt, what cannot be denied is that a tight hemline and high waistline produces a marvellous silhouette.      

 

 

III.

 

Some people believe the hobble skirt to have been inspired by the Japanese kimono; others credit Mrs Edith Ogilby Berg - one of best dressed women of the period - with inspiring its creation ... 

 

In 1908, Mrs Berg attended a Wright Brothers demonstration in France and asked for a ride, becoming the first American woman to fly as a passenger in an aeroplane (even if the flight only lasted a little over two minutes). 

 

Not wanting her skirt to be billow in the wind during the flight, she had quickly fastened a rope around the hem of her ankle-length skirt. And when, with the rope still in place, she tottered from the aircraft after landing a fashion designer in the crowd of spectators had a moment of inspiration - et voila! the hobble skirt (or la jupe entravée as he termed it) was conceived [1]. 

 

 

IV. 

 

Predictably, the gentlemen of the press had a field day, the hobble skirt causing a mixture of outrage and merriment. Numerous editorials were written condemning them; sometimes on the grounds of health and safety and sometimes in the name of public decency and common sense. Hundreds of cartoons and comic postcards were also produced, mocking the women who wore them. 

 

But of course, these fashionable women didn't care; they loved the fact the hobble skirt brought them attention and knew long before Adam Ant that ridicule is nothing to be scared of [2]. And if you stumbled while wearing one and fell in the canal, or in front of a runaway horse, well ... C'est la vie! 

 

Scorning the actions of those women who made alterations to their skirts to allow for greater movement - adding subtle slits, hidden pleats, and buttons at the skirt's hem - the hardcore hobble devotees would sometimes even tie their legs together at the knee; a point which brings us nicely on to the bondage suit designed by Malcolm Mclaren and Vivienne Westwood over 65 years later and sold in their King's Road store Seditionaries.

 

 

V.

 

If obliged to choose just one outfit to epitomise the punk aesthetic, it would have to be the unisex bondage suit. 

 

The story goes that Malcolm had returned from a trip to the States with a pair of standard-issue green cotton army trousers which he instructed Vivienne to copy in shiny black sateen. McLaren then had the genius idea of a metal zip that went right up between the legs and, perhaps more crucially, a strap between the knees, restricting the wearer's movement and giving the trousers their name [3].   

 

After designing a matching jacket with straps, zips, snap fastenings, and D-rings [4], the couple had created one of the most iconic garments of punk style, which later came in tartan and with the addition of a detachable bum flap to give a primitive element to the outfit.

 

The tagline for Seditionaries was clothes for heroes - and that was exactly how the wearer would feel as they hobbled along going Nowhere in their bondage outfit; daring, defiant, and dandyish. They had, with their own irreverence, escaped the world of normality [5] - just like the hobble skirt wearing women had done all those decades earlier.        

 

 

 

Funny girl Fanny Brice in a hobble skirt (1910) and 

punk designer Vivienne Weswood in a bondage suit (1977)

  

 

Notes

 

[1] The French fashion designer may have been Paul Poiret; he it was who claimed credit for the hobble skirt (just as he did for wide-legged trousers in 1910), although it's not entirely clear whether the skirt was uniquely his creation. The fact is, skirts had been rapidly narrowing for several years already. 

      However, just as I'm happy to think of Mary Quant as the inventor of the miniskirt - even though that's not entirely true (again, the era-defining skirt of the 1960s was the result of a trend for rising hemlines and a wider cultural shift towards youthful informality and fun) - I'm happy also to think of Poiret as both the inventor of the hobble skirt and the man responsible for convincing women to throw away their corsets. As he never tired of boasting: I freed the bust, but shackled the legs!       

 

[2] Lyric by Adam Ant from the song 'Prince Charming', released as a single from the album of the same title by Adam and the Ants in 1981 (CBS Records): click here to play on YouTube. 

 

[3] To watch a short film on YouTube in which McLaren talks about making a pair of bondage trousers and dressing a generation who were bored, nihilistic, and in search of a new identity, please click here.    

 

[4] Paul Gorman informs us that the matching bondage top "was modelled on an oiled canvas jacket produced by the traditional British outwear brand Barbour". However, by the time McLaren and Westwood had finished transforming the piece with straps and whatnot, it "resembled a high fashion straightjacket". 

      Gorman also notes that the duo also designed a pair of bondage boots, "in canvas and soft leather", for those who wanted to complete the look. See The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), pp. 318-319.  

 

[5] For my own experience of wearing bondage clothes inspired by McLaren and Westwood's original design, see the post published on 16 October 2015: click here. 

D. H. Lawrence and Rudolph Valentino: the Priest of Love Versus the Latin Lover

Messrs. Lawrence (1885-1930) and Valentino (1895-1926) 

 

Oh Mister Rudolph Valentino / I know I've got the Valentino blues  

And when you come up on the screen / Oh! You're so romantic, I go frantic at the views [1]

 

 

I. 

 

Like many men at the time [2], D. H. Lawrence was not a fan of cinema's greatest male sex symbol of the silent era, Rudolph Valentino, the so-called Latin Lover [3]:

 

"We think ... a handsome man must look like Rudolf Valentino. ... But ... there is a greater essential beauty in Charlie Chaplin's odd face than there ever was in Valentino's ... which only pleases because it satisfies some ready-made notion of handsomeness." [4]

 

 

II.  

 

As the above quote makes clear, Lawrence dislikes Valentino because he thinks the latter reinforces a stereotypical ideal of beauty. 

 

But he also accuses actors cast in the same mold as Valentino of counterfeit emotion and of stimulating such in their audience. In a poem written about his experience at the cinema, for example, Lawrence jeers at the black-and-white feelings and fake ecstasies pretended by those who moan with pleasure when watching close-up kisses on a screen [5].

 

One suspects that, just as he thinks Valentino's sex appeal to be essentialy false, Lawrence might also have cast doubt on the actor's masculinity if given the chance to do so and may even have agreed with the attack upon him by the Chicago Tribune in the so-called 'Pink Powder Puffs' controversy ....

 

 

III.   

 

There had long been those who had called Valentino's manliness and, by unspoken implication, his heterosexuality into question. 

 

Some all-American boys - fair of face and blue of eye - felt threatened by his dark good looks and strange foreign manner; particularly as these things clearly excited the all-American girl. Anti-Italian racism was not uncommon at this time and if wops could also be seen as effeminate as well as criminal and foolish, then that was all the more reason to despise them. 

 

Thus, Valentino's critics repeatedly pointed to his pomaded hair, his dandyish dress sense, and the misogyny that seemed to underlie his treatement of women. 

 

This abuse came to a peak - whilst paradoxically hitting a new low - when an editorial in the Chicago Tribune concerning the installation of a facial powder dispenser in a gentleman's washroom at one of the city's leading hotels, decried the feminization of American men and pinned the blame for this on Valentino and his movies. 

 

The article, published on 18 July 1926, so infuriated Valentino that he challenged the anonymous writer to a fight [6]. As this challenge was not taken up, Valentino sought advice from others, including the writer H. L. Mencken, on how else to respond to such an infamous libel [7].    

 

Unfortunately, however, Valentino didn't get the chance to take matters any further; for he was to die in hospital following surgery the following month, aged just 31.  

 

 

IV.

 

Since his premature death in August 1926 [8], rumours have continued to circulate regarding Valentino's sexuality; was he secretly homosexual; was he bi-curious; or - as the evidence suggests and his recent biographers [9] conclude - was he in fact a genuine lover of the ladies, with no desire to suck cock ...?  

 

Who knows? 

 

And these days, who cares? Thankfully, a man can now present another man with an art deco dildo without everyone rushing to judgement, or speculating as to what such a gift reveals about that person's orientation or sexual preferences.  

 

Even Lawrence, who may not have been a fan of Valentino's - and often addressed questions around gender and sexuality in a way that many might now find problematic to say the least - conceded that the most girlish looking men often have "the finest maleness, once it is put to the test" [10]. 

 

 

Don't you ever stop being dandy  

showing me you're handsome [11]

 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Lyrics from 'Rodolph Valentino Blues', by Jack Frost (published by Jack Mills Inc., 1922). For a recent version of the song uploaded to YouTube by valentinolover70, click here. 

      Note that the spelling of Valentino's first name is not an error; in February, 1922 Life magazine reported that he would henceforth prefer to be known as Rodolph rather than Rudolph. This semi-Italianised styling of the name seems not to have caught on, however.   

 

[2] As the author of the WordPress blog Rudolph Valentino-Connections writes, Valentino was a target of innuendo, racism, and ridicule almost from the start of his career. In the July 1922 issue of Photoplay, for example, which featured Valentino on the cover, the cartoonist and illustrator Dick Dorgan wrote a piece entitled 'Song of Hate' which asserted that all men hate the actor for his foreign features, including his slicked hair and glistening white teeth. 

      Click here to access the post, which also includes the 'Pink Powder Puffs' editorial in the Chicago Tribune (18 July 1926) which we shall discuss shortly and which declares: 'Better a rule by masculine women than by effeminate men.'     

 

[3] Valentino was born in southern Italy, but arrived in New York in December 1913, aged 18. Although eligible - and despite becoming a Hollywood icon thanks to his exceptional good looks, personal charm, and unique talent - he never completed an application for US citizenship. 

       Undoubtedly the role that defined not only Valentino's career but his image and legacy, was that of Ahmed Ben Hassan in The Sheik (dir. George Melford, 1921) - much to his own irritation.  

 

[4] D. H. Lawrence, 'Sex Appeal', in Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 145-146. 

      What Valentino thought of Lawrence's looks is not, as far as I know, on record. But, interestingly, Clark Gable - the actor promoted as Valentino's successor after the latter's untimely death in 1926 - named Lawrence as his favourite author. See the article 'Will Gable Take the Place of Valentino', by Gladys Hall, in Movie Classic (November 1931), which can be read on the Clark Gable archive site dearmrgable.com: click here.   

 

[5] See the poem 'When I went to the film' in D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, Vol. I., ed. Christopher Pollnitz (Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 385.  

 

[6] Although Valentino didn't get to fight the writer of the Pink Powder Puffs editorial, he did box sports writer Frank ONeill from the New York Evening Journal, who volunteered to fight in place of his colleague from the Chicago Tribune. Valentino - who had been trained by world heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey - won the fight. Afterwards, Dempsey described Valentino as the most virile and masculine of all the actors he had worked with.

 

[7] Mencken, who found Valentino very likeable, advised the latter to simply let the whole thing fizzle out. After Valentino's death - just a month later - Mencken published a sympathetic piece in the Baltimore Sun, in which he claimed that it was not the Chicago episode that really upset Valentino, but the grotesque futility of his life as a famous film star. See H. L. Mencken, 'Valentino', in A Mencken Chrestomathy, (Vintage Books, 1982), pp. 281-284.   

      

[8] Valentino died on 23 August 1926 from infections following surgery for perforated gastric ulcers. A post discussing the extraordinary circumstances surrounding his death and his posthumous life can be read by clicking here.

 

[9] See, for example, Emily W. Leider's biography Dark Lover: The Life and Death of Rudolph Valentino (Faber & Faber, 2003).    

 

[10] D. H. Lawrence, Fantasia of the Unconscious, ed. Bruce Steele (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 126. 

 

[11] Lyrics from 'Prince Charming' by Adam and the Ants, a single release from the studio album Prince Charming (CBS, 1981), which reached number 1 in the UK charts. The video for the song, directed Mike Mansfield, famously ends with Adam singing the chorus refrain - ridicule is nothing to be scared of - in the guise of several iconic male figures, including Valentino as Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan. Click here to play on YouTube.  

 

 

Electric Boogaloo: Remembering the Rock Steady Crew

The Rock Steady Crew in a Charisma Records 

promo photo (1983)

 

 

I. 

 

Apparently, the Rock Steady Crew are still a thing even today; indeed, the name has become a kind of franchise, used by various other groups of hip-hoppers and b-boys in multiple locations. 

 

I have to admit, I like this idea; it's not something that the Rolling Stones ever thought to do and even though Malcolm declared in the post-Rotten days that anyone can be a Sex Pistol, the actual band members were quick to assert intellectual property rights and demand other assets and accumulated royalties during their High Court case against him [1].  

 

 

II.

 

For me, however, the RSC - and I'm not referring to the Royal Shakespeare Company here - will always consist of the six members pictured above: Prince Ken Swift, Crazy Legs, Buck 4, Doze, Kuriaki, and, up-front and centre, 15-year-old Baby Love, who provided the vocals on their international hit single, '(Hey You) The Rock Steady Crew' (1983) [2].   

It is, to be brutally honest, a rubbish song; although when I first heard it played in Steve Weltman's office I reluctantly agreed it was 'not bad' [3]. Ultimately, the RSC were just another novelty act, signed by Charisma Records [4] in an attempt to cash in on the surprise success of McLaren's 'Buffalo Gals' (1982) [5] and exploit the burgeoning American hip-hop scene. 

 

Having said that, I remember them with a certain fondness; especially Doze, who was very friendly, very funny, and clearly a talented artist. And it was a shame that they were destined for the same sad fate as befell Adam and the Ants two years earlier - i.e., to make a spectacle of themselves on stage in a Royal Variety Performance ... [6]. 

 

 

Hip-hop meets pomp & circumstance: the Rock Steady Crew 

with a soldier from the Household Cavalry 

(London, c. 1983)

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Those who want to know more about this court case - which was instigated by Rotten in 1979, but not fully resolved until 1986 after much legal wrangling - should see chapters 26 and 31 of Paul Gorman's biography The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020). Long story short: Malcolm, unfairly in my view, loses the case and everything is awarded to Lydon, Cook, Jones, and the estate of Sid Vicious (including, ironically, rights to The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle).

 

[2] '(Hey You) The Rock Steady Crew' was released from the group's debut studio album Ready for Battle (Charisma Records, 1984) and it reached number 6 on the UK Singles Chart. Blue Soldier and Stephen Hague, two of the co-writers of the song, also produced the track; the other co-writer, Ruza Blue, was the Crew's manager at this time. Click here to play the song's promo video on YouTube.

 

[3] This according to a diary entry made on Tuesday 16 August, 1983. Weltman had just returned from New York with the newly recorded song and accompanying video, which I first saw on the 19th, thinking it a pale imitation of McLaren's video for 'Buffalo Gals' in some respects, but noting that Baby Love was certainly easy on the eye. 

      

[4] Charisma Records was founded in 1969 by Tony Stratton-Smith and remained, at heart, a hippie label much loved by prog rockers, despite it's eclectic roster that included Monty Python, Sir John Betjeman, and Billy Bragg. Sadly, Charisma was swallowed by the Virgin shark in 1983 and fully digested by the latter in 1986. Steve Weltman was the managing director of Charisma, 1981-86.   

 

[5] 'Buffalo Gals' was very much a surprise hit - and a hit despite rather than because of the good people at Charisma Records, on whom the track's genius (and revolutionary nature) was completely lost. McLaren later recalled:

 

'It was greeted poorly by almost all at the record company. The radio plugger [...] was so outraged he refused to take it to radio and declared it was "not music" [...] The only person who stood up for me was the press lady: a young American, new in her job.' 

 

Charisma seriously considered legal proceedings against McLaren on the grounds that he had grossly overspent the budget and that he was "in breach of the contractual obligation to deliver music of acceptable commercial value". 

      However, thanks to the hugely positive response Kid Jensen received after playing the track on his Capital Radio show, Charisma were quickly obliged to recognise that they not only had a potential number 1 on their hands, but that they possessed a track capable of causing "a sea-change of significance in popular music terms to rival the advent of punk". 

      See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren ... pp. 516-517. 

 

[6] On 23 November, 1981, Adam and the Ants played two songs at the Royal Variety Performance, much to bass player Kevin Mooney's obvious discomfort; he thought he'd joined a post-punk band, not a pop pantomime troupe happy to entertain members of the English royal family. Refusing to take the performance seriously - thereby infuriating Adam - Mooney was subsequently sacked. Those who wish to watch, can do so by clicking here. 

      On 7 November, 1983, the Rock Steady Crew performed in front of Her Majesty the Queen at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane: click here. Their being added to the bill is an even more egregious example of cultural appropriation in which a marginalised subculture is ripped out of the urban context in which it derives its meaning, its magic, and its potency simply for the amusement of the rich. And the fact that this was done with the connivance of their record company and, one suspects, either the naive or knowing complicity of the RSC themselves, is doubly depressing.

      It's not often I find myself writing in praise of John Lennon, but I do admire that during The Beatles' set at the Royal Variety Performance in 1963, he sarcastically requested that wealthy members of the audience rattle their jewellery rather than just clap their hands like those in the cheaper seats: click here.

      It's worth noting that The Beatles also refused future requests to appear at the Royal Variety Performance, despite their continued popularity and the fact that all four had been awarded - and accepted - MBEs from the Queen in 1965 (Lennon returning his in 1969, in protest at Britain's involvement in or support for various armed conflicts around the world). 

 

 

Get Off Your Knees and Hear the Insect Prayer: Notes on the Ant People

Get Off Your Knees and Hear the Insect Prayer

 

I. 

 

When I came across a reference the other day to the Ant People, I immediately thought of the Adam and the Ants slogan: Ant Music for Sex People: Sex Music for Ant People [1]. 

 

I had long believed that this line simply referred to those whom the cultural commentator Peter York once described as the "'extreme ideological wing of the Peculiars'" [2] - i.e., those who used to hang around Sex - and, secondly, to those who were hardcore fans of Adam and the Ants.

I now discover, however, that existing long before Adam and Marco ever walked through the doors of 430 King's Road, were a legendary race of highly advanced beings (possibly of extraterrestrial origin) known as the Ant People, and venerated by the Hopi Indians; a tribe of Native Americans who have lived on the high arid mesas of northern Arizona for thousands of years [3]. 

 

 

II. 

 

According to Hopi legend, in times of global catastrophe, it was the Anu Sinom, or Ant People, who come to their rescue and offered them sanctuary in underground caves, which essentially formed a natural network of subterranean prayer chambers, or what the Hopi call kivas (a word which etymologically means beautiful dwelling place).      

 

No wonder then that the Hopi refer to the Ant People with their elongated skulls, almond-shaped eyes, tiny waists, and long skinny arms and legs, as their friends: Anu-naki.  

 

And one can only hope that if members of Extinction Rebellion and Just Stop Oil are correct in their dire predictions of a coming eco-apocalypse, that we palefaces will have some benevolent insects come to our rescue (although I doubt it and don't think we deserve such).    

 

Notes

 

[1] This line is a refrain in the Adam and the Ants track 'Don't Be Square (Be There)', found on the album Kings of the Wild Frontier (CBS Records, 1980): click here.   

[2] Peter York, writing in an article entitled 'Them', Harpers & Queen (October 1976), quoted by Paul Gorman in The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 329. 

[3] See Gary A. David, 'The Ant People of the Hopi' (13 October, 2013) on the website Ancient Origins: click here.

 

 

Out of the Punk Ruins and Into the Age of Piracy

Jordan as SEX punk (1976) 

and Worlds End pirate (1981)

 

'Twas a sunny day when I went to play down by the deep blue sea  

I jumped aboard a pirate ship and Malcolm said to me ...

 

 

I. 

 

One of the things I most love about the animated closing scene to The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (dir. Julien Temple, 1980) aboard the good ship Venus [1] is that it anticipates the radical move that McLaren (and Westwood) were to make the following year when they transformed Seditionaries into Worlds End and replaced the figure of the punk rocker with that of the pirate, obliging an entire generation to either set sail with them on a new swashbuckling new adventure, or risk being thrown overboard like that scurvy dog Johnny Rotten.

 

 

II.

By 1979 it was clear that Seditionaries was no longer the centre of the world:

"McLaren and Westwood's customer base was no longer drawn from the cutting edge of the capital's cognoscenti. Now visitors comprised curious provincials, cookie-cutter second-wave punks, Johnny-come-latelies and Sid fans." [2]

 

It was time to move on, or risk becoming trapped by old ideas and old looks - although, ironically, this meant leaving the 20th-century by travelling back to a more Romantic time. 

 

McLaren, now more excited by the outlaw than the rebel, began to conceive of a new age of piracy - one which Westwood was able to brilliantly materialise with her latest fashion designs. Their partnership was once more "firing into the future" [3] and it was all systems (C30 C60 C90) Go!  

 

Of course, this meant the shop at 430 King's Road would also require a major refit ... 

  

 

III.

 

Worlds End - the fifth and final version of the store - was arguably the most imaginative; a cross between a pirate's ship and the Old Curiosity Shop made famous by Dickens. Not as pervy as Sex; not as intimidating as Seditionaries, Worlds End was an unreal place of fantasy and promise. 

 

The large clock placed above the entrance with its hands perpetually spinning backwards, suggested the idea of time travel. But the fact that it had thirteen hours rather than the standard twelve made sure that one also aware that the time one was escaping to didn't exist - but might, one day.

 

In retail terms, Worlds End was certainly more successful than the earlier versions of 430 King's Road. And McLaren and Westwood's Pirate collection (1981) was a seminal moment in fashion history (it certainly inspired Galliano). 

 

Even now, the outfits seem astonishingly fresh and colourful; full of youthful exuberance and swagger. Jerry Seinfeld may have rejected the pirate look [4], but for many of us, the puffy shirt was once a must have back in the day and every now and then you'll still see models on the catwalk wearing clothes inspired by the clothes Malcolm and Vivienne created.  

  

Post-punk pirates Bow Wow Wow 

looking the part in 1981

 

Notes

 

[1] I have written about this scene earlier this year on Torpedo the Ark: click here. 

 

[2] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 438.

[3] Ibid., p. 450.

 

[4] I'm referring to the episode of Seinfeld entitled 'The Puffy Shirt' [S5/E2], dir. Tom Cherones (1993), in which Jerry famously declares: "I don't wanna be a pirate!" Click here. 

Musical bonus: Adam and the Ants, 'Jolly Roger', from the album Kings of the Wild Frontier (CBS Records, 1980): click here.

 

Video bonus: Jordan outside Worlds End in 1981 speaking about the new age of piracy: click here.

 

For a related post to this one on Worlds End, please click here.   

But Malcolm, They'll Not Be Able to Find It ...

Fig. 1: Sex Pistols: Anarchy in the U.K. (EMI, 1976)  

Fig. 2: Kazimir Malevich: Black Square (1915) 

 

 

I.

 

It's hard to resist loving a paper that explores the links between punk, nihilism, politics and the arts, such as the one delivered by Ian Trowell at the Torn Edges symposium at the London College of Communication a few days ago [1].

 

Kazimir Malevich and Malcolm McLaren; Suprematism, Situationism, and the Sex Pistols - what's not to love? 

 

I don't want to say it was the best presentation on the day, but it was probably the one I enjoyed the most - and if Trowell had only thought to entitle his work 'Don't Be (Black) Square Be There', I would've loved it (and him) even more [2].

 

 

II.

 

Perhaps unsurprisingly to torpedophiles, the aspect of the talk that most excited concerned the plain black sleeve that 'Anarchy in the U.K.' - the Sex Pistols' debut single - was originally issued in on 26 November, 1976. 

I figure that McLaren would be more than familiar with Malevich's suprematist masterpiece painted sixty years earlier, though don't know if this directly inspired the 'Anarchy' packaging, or if, as Paul Gorman says, the insistence on such a sleeve was simply in line with McLaren's own aesthetic, as seen in his portraits of the 1960s and the clothes designs produced with Vivienne Westwood for Sex [3]. 

 

Either way, it was a great idea for a sleeve; one that not only captures the anarcho-nihilism of the band, but affirms the colour with the greatest symbolic resonance and meaning. 

 

And when EMI executives complained that an all black sleeve with no identifying information would make it extremely difficult for fans to find it in the record stores, Malcolm smiled and said: I don't want them to find it ... [4]

 

Notes

 

[1] Ian Trowell is an independent researcher and author exploring themes of popular culture and ideas around myth and memory. His presentation at Torn Edges was entiled '"Anarchy in the UK', 'Black Square', and Pop Nihilism: Exploring the Links between Punk, Nihilism, Suprematism and Situationism". 'Further details of this event and of the other speakers can be found here. Trowell's recently published book - Throbbing Gristle: An Endless Discontent (Intellect Books, 2023) - can be purchased here.

 

[2] The fact that he was wearing an Adam and the Ants T-shirt on the day makes it even more surprising to me that Trowell didn't think of this title. Still, never mind - the presentation was all good clean fun (whatever that means).*  

[3] See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 331. Gorman goes on to say that McLaren was also thinking of the infamous 'black page' in Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy (1759-67).

 

[4] 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. 

      The record reached number 38 in the official UK Singles Chart, before being withdrawn by EMI following the Bill Grundy Incident (1 Dec 1976). The Sex Pistols were eventually fired from EMI on 6 January 1977, but they kept their £40,000 advance and had the last laugh when they included the track E.M.I. on Never Mind the Bollocks (Virgin Records, 1977). 

      To watch the band perform the single 'Anarchy in the U.K.' on the BBC's early evening current affairs show Nationwide (recorded 11 Nov 1976 and broadcast the following day), click here.

 

  

* I'm referring here - for those who don't know - to a track by Adam and the Ants entitled 'Don't Be Square (Be There)', from the album Kings of the Wild Frontier (CBS Records, 1980): click here. You may not like it now, but you will ... 

Submission

Sex Pistols: 'Submission' (1977) [1]

 

I. 

 

According to Rotten's recollection, it was Malcolm who suggested the band should write a BDSM-themed song with the title 'Submission' - they were, after all, called the SEX Pistols, although only guitarist Steve Jones seemed to have an eye for the ladies, Rotten once famously dismissing the act of love as merely a couple of minutes squelching [2].

 

So perhaps no surprise that Rotten would decide to interpret the word submission as sub-mission, i.e., a submarine mission and write a song that is less about kinky sex of the sort McLaren fantasised and more about an immersive experience with a mysterious girl and her watery love [3].   

 

Reflecting on the song years later, Rotten said that whilst he and other band members enjoyed the punning humour of 'Submission', Malcolm failed to see the joke and, as a result, didn't ever attempt to suggest or shape the lyrical content of a song again, which, if true, is a shame; for Malcolm was clearly the guiding spirit and intelligence of everything that came out of 430 Kings Road, including the Sex Pistols [4]. 

 

 

II. 

 

One assumes that McLaren was hoping Rotten might come up with something simlar to 'Venus in Furs' by the Velvet Underground, a track inspired by Masoch's famous novel of that title published in 1870 [5]. 

 

Unfortunately, however, Rotten is no Lou Reed and, as noted, kinky themes of sadomasochism, bondage, and submission mean nothing to him - or, at most, they provide an opportunity to mock those who do take these things seriously. Sex, style and subversion may be central to McLaren's philosophy and aesthetic, but Rotten is all about sarcasm, scorn and sneering. 

 

In a sense, Malcolm might have been better off kicking Rotten out of the band earlier than he did and bringing in another talented young singer-songwriter, namely, Adam Ant, who immediately quit the pub rock outfit Bazooka Joe (for whom he played bass) after seeing the Sex Pistols in November 1975 [6]. 

 

Adam soon fell in with key figures on the London punk scene, including Jordan, who famously worked at SEX, and, unlike Rotten, he was more than happy to explore the pervy world of fetish, producing some fantastic songs on the subject, such as 'Whip in My Valise' and 'Beat My Guest' [7]. He even coined a motto for his band Adam and the Ants which read: Ant music for sex people. 

 

Unfortunately, it would be two years after the breakup of the Sex Pistols, in January 1980, before McLaren finally paid attention to Adam and agreed to manage - or, more accurately, mentor - him for a month, receiving a flat fee of a £1000. It was from Malcolm, that Adam got his pirate-Apache look and the Burundi drum sound - so a bargain, really, although it also cost him the loss of his band, who left with McLaren to form Bow Wow Wow ... but that's another post.

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (Virgin, 1977) was originally released as an 11-track album, but included 'Submission' as a one-sided 7" single. It was soon added to the album and the 2012 remastered version can be heard by clicking here.

 

[2] See Charles M. Young's feature on (and interviews with) the Sex Pistols - 'Rock is Sick and Living in London' - in Rolling Stone (20 Oct 1977): click here. 

      Asked if he shares Sid's view that sex is boring, Rotten replies: "Love is two minutes and fifty seconds of squelching noises. It shows your mind isn't clicking right." It was a quote greatly appreciated by the writer Aubron Waugh.

[3] It's possible, of course, that Rotten has, in fact, penned an erotic number - even if it was primarily designed to annoy McLaren. Repeatedly singing about going down, for example, suggests an interest in oral sex and when Rotten refers to her undercurrent flowing one can't help but imagine that the song references either female ejaculation or golden showering. Ultimately, whilst I have no idea if Rotten has a penchant for urophilia, it's undeniably the case that he enjoys taking the piss. 

[4] Rotten would like the world to to believe that he almost singlehandedly wrote the songs, only begrudgingly admitting the role played by other band members. But it's hard to imagine that he would have come up with 'Anarchy in the U.K.' without McLaren putting ideas in his head and 'Pretty Vacant' was almost certainly written at the latter's instigation after he was inspired by Richard Hell's 'Blank Generation' (I discussed this in an earlier post that can be accessed by clicking here).   

 

[5] 'Venus in Furs', by the Velvet Underground - a band managed by McLaren's artistic hero Andy Warhol - was originally released on the 1967 album The Velvet Underground & Nico. Readers who wish to listen can click here.

 

[6] In fact, the Sex Pistols - playing their first ever show - opened for Bazooka Joe at Saint Martin's Art College on 6 November, 1975.   

 

[7] 'Whip in My Valise' originally featured as the B-side of the Adam and the Ants single 'Zerox', released in July 1979. It was also added to the 1983 re-issue of the album Dirk Wears White Sox.

      'Beat My Guest' would eventually turn up as the B-side of 'Stand and Deliver', a single released in May 1981, and on the compilation album B-Side Babies (1994) Click here for the first of these tracks and here for the latter.