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.   

 

 

Prince, Oh Prince of Darkness: Notes on the Case of Peter Mandelson

Lord Peter Mandelson 

(The Prince of Darkness) 

 

'He who knows not that the Prince of Darkness is also the King of Light, knows nothing ...'  

 

 

I. 

 

The Prince of Darkness is a term used in John Milton's epic poem Paradise Lost (1667) [1], referring to Satan as the embodiment of evil. 

 

It is an English translation of the Latin phrase princeps tenebrarum, which occurs in the Gospel of Nicodemus (aka the Acts of Pilate), thought to have been written in the 4th or 5th century. 

 

It is, in my view, by far the loveliest of Satan's titles - much nicer than Lord of the Flies - one which makes the Devil sound like a true gentleman [2], whereas Beelzebub suggests some sort of exalted dustman.

 

The Prince of Darkness, however, is also one of the nicknames given to the Labour Party politician, lobbyist and diplomat, Peter Mandelson, who - as many readers will know - is back in the headlines at the moment ...

 

 

II. 

 

Mandelson's long (and hugely successful) career has famously been marked by controversy, which resulted in his twice resigning from the Cabinet and recently being dismissed as British Ambassador to the United States, after a scandal emerged concerning his friendship with Jeffrey Epstein, an American financier and convicted child sex offender who died, in somewhat fishy circumstances, whilst in his prison cell, in 2019 [3].    

 

To be honest, before this latest scandal I knew very little about Mandelson (and cared even less). But now, knowing a bit more, I find I'm increasingly sympathetic; I certainly prefer him to Starmer, whether or not he passed on sensitive government information to Epstein and whether or not he's a corrupt moral monster of some sort.     

 

In fact, for me there's something a bit Wildean about Mandelson, as well as something diabolical. For like Wilde, Mandelson is outrageously reckless in the face of danger and forever flirting with scandal (behaviour driven, I'm told by a friend of mine who knows about this sort of thing, by a combination of psychological factors, including arrogance, hubris, and a belief in his own exceptionality).  

 

 

III.

 

Of course, I'm by no means the first to feel this way about Mandelson (to be taken in by his seductive charm, if you like).  

 

Way back in 2001, the innovation expert and social policy consultant Charles Leadbeater wrote a piece in The Guardian on his friend Mandelson, whom, he said, was an inspired political visionary who enriches British public life.   

 

Mandelson, Leadbeater continued, could think outside the box and had the "stamina, professionalism and attention to detail" [4] to push through significant change: "He made things happen when many around him simply talked. He was not afraid to take on fights when more cautious and calculating souls cowered." [5] 

 

Conceding that Mandelson has certain character flaws - including vanity and arrogance - Leadbeater points out that this is true of most politicians. And so, what if he likes the high life and his head is too easily turned by the rich and famous - at least he isn't boring and he dares to be different:

 

"That is why I like and support Peter Mandelson. In a political class marked by its limited imagination, Peter had the capacity not just to think big, but to deliver as well. He dared to stand up and stand out. Now he has been hammered back into place. The Oscar Wilde of modern politics, he embraced the establishment and challenged convention in the same movement. Those who were unsettled by his daring are the ones celebrating this weekend." [6]

 

That is a paragraph which is both uncannily resonant and extraordinarily pertinent to the present discussion of the Mandelson case.   

 

 

IV.  

 

In closing, I would like to refer readers to a spoof piece in The Daily Mash informing us that as well as losing his government post and stepping down from the House of Lords, Mandelson "will no longer be referred to as the Prince of Darkness or enjoy the benefits of the title [...] because he is a terrible representative of Satanism and the hellish underworld" [7].  

 

Continuing in the same satirical manner, the article quotes a spokesman who confirms that Mandelson has "disgraced the good name of the Devil" [8] by fawning over Epstein, rather than fulfilling his public duty of challenging God's authority and leading others into temptation. Thus, from now on Mandelson will no longer be able to possess souls, "shapeshift, or control the dead" [9].  

 

Notes

 

[1] See Book 10, line 383: click here to read online (The John Milton Reading Room).   

 

[2] See Shakespeare's King Lear (1606), Act III, scene IV, line 151: "The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman." Click here to read online (Folger Shakespeare Library). 

 

[3] Mandelson's friendship with Epstein, which had been publicly known about for some years, spanned at least from 2002 to 2011 (i.e., it had continued even after Epstein's 2008 conviction in Florida for soliciting prostitution from a minor).

 

[4-6] Charles Leadbeater, 'My friend the political visionary', in The Guardian (28 Jan 2001): click here.  

 

[7-9] See the article 'Peter Mandelson stripped of Prince of Darkness title', in The Daily Mash (6 Feb 2026): click here.  

 

Musical bonus: Bow Wow Wow performing their 1981 single 'Prince of Darkness' on German TV: click here to watch on YouTube (80s Rec.)

 

 

Never Ever Say Hey Ho! Off We Go: Why I'm Sceptical of the Work Ethic

       

linkedin.com 

 

 

I've expressed my contempt for those professional network hippies and Silicon Valley fascists at LinkedIn before on Torpedo the Ark - click here - but their Open to Work feature launched in 2020 (which has only just come to my attention) really takes the biscuit ...

 

Designed to let recruiters and potential employers know that you are available for new job opportunities - the feature works by securing a green-coloured slave collar round your profile picture - they may as well have asked members to hold up a cardboard sign with the words willing to work scrawled on it!

 

The primary issue, then, is that the feature makes a job seeker appear desperate: even some career experts agree with this and suggest it may warn off some employers - those who prefer to discreetly headhunt talented candidates, for example - whilst leading others to make derisory salalry offers [1].     

 

But the deeper issue, for me at least, has to do with the philosophy behind such a feature; for it echoes, does it not, those terrible words written on the gates of Auschwitz: Arbeit macht frei ...

 

 

II.  

 

This infamous slogan originated from a popular 19th century novel by Lorenz Diefenbach, the title of which - Die Wahrheit macht frei (1873) - refers to the phrase used by Jesus: 'And the truth shall set you free' (John 8:32). However, the book reimagines this as 'work makes free' and that's what really struck a chord with the Nazis and other advocates of an ultra-strong work ethic. 

 

Following their coming to power in 1933, the Nazis first utilised it in programmes designed to combat mass unemployment in Germany. But it is now forever associated in the cultural imagination with the concentration camps and forced labour carried out in the most atrocious conditions imaginable; the only freedom being death.      

 

Interestingly, the Nazis seemed to have used the slogan on the gates of Auschwitz neither with the intention to mock the inmates nor provide them with false hope. It was employed, rather, in the sincere belief that endless labour and self-sacrifice does result in a form of spiritual freedom. 

 

In other words, it illustrates their idealism, not their cynicism; just as 'Open to Work' doubtless illustrates the good intentions of the good people at LinkedIn and is not an attempt to humiliate and make members look needy.    

 

 

Notes

 

[1] For a discussion of whether you should (or should not) use LinkedIn's 'Open to Work' feature, see Elizabeth Perarson's article in Forbes (Sept 2024): click here. 

 

 

Musical bonus: Bow Wow Wow, 'W.O.R.K. (N.O. Nah, No No My Daddy Don't)', (EMI, 1981): click here for the extended 12" remix. This track, with lyrics written by Malcolm McLaren, is an amusing rejection of the work ethic. The sleeve, designed by Jamie Reid, also makes clear of how such an ethic can become malignant and fall into the black hole of fascism: 

 

 

 

On Answering the Call of the Void

Can You Resist the Call of the Void? (SA/2025)

Based on Ernst Stückelberg's painting of Sappho (1897) [1]

 

 

I. 

 

Apparently, the urge to jump when atop a high building, such as the Eiffel Tower, is not limited to rock 'n' roll puppets in a band called Bow Wow Wow [2], but is a fairly common phenomenon known (rather poetically) as the call of the void ...

 

 

II.

 

Usually, it's a violently intrusive thought that passes as quickly as it comes and is not regarded as a sign of any underlying suicidal tendencies. In fact, it may be the brain's way of telling you not to jump; to recognise the danger of your situation and step back from the edge. 

 

 

III. 

 

Philosophers, of course - particularly those who have taken seriously Nietzsche's injunction to live dangerously - don't always care what their brain tells them. 

 

They know that "the secret of harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment" [3] involves sending ships into unchartered seas, building cities on the slopes of a volcano, and daring to leap into the void when the moment to do so is right.

 

Empedocles knew this [4]. And Deleuze knew this [5] ...     

 

 

IV.

 

The void, of course, is another one of those ideas in philosophy that can be traced back to the ancient Greeks. But it's probably in the modern sense that most people think it today; i.e., in relation to existential nihilism. 

 

The key thing, however, is not take it too negatively: the void might even be seen as a space of potential; not just of nothingness. It's absence that makes the heart grow fonder and which allows for the emergence of new thoughts and feelings, the creation of new values and concepts. 

 

The void is also the space of forgotten possibilities, where abandoned paths can be rediscovered, allowing for different interpretations of the past (interpretations that might then be projected into the future, so that we might in this way live yesterday tomorrow). 

 

Our artist friends often insist on the importance of what they call negative space - something that is crucial for giving form and structure to what exists. 

 

And scientists too are increasingly persuaded of the importance of the quantum vacuum - a void filled with fluctuating energy and mad particles, from which the universe itself may have emerged.   

 

So, whilst I'm not encouraging any one to jump off a tall building, I think it's worth acknowledging that the call of the void is more than what psychologists say it is, i.e., a slightly odd phenomenon not linked to actual intentions, so not worth paying too much attention to.

  

The call of the void - like the call of the wild - is, in fact, a vital experiential reality.  

 

  

Notes

 

[1] The Ancient Greek poet Sappho is perhaps best known for her lyric poetry, written to be sung while accompanied by music. That, and her sexuality - although her lesbianism is much disputed amongst scholars and there is no documentary evidence to conclusively indicate her preference when it came to lovers. 

      (In classical Athenian comedy, she was often portrayed as promiscuoulsy heterosexual; the earliest surviving sources to explicitly identify Sappho's homoeroticism come from the Hellenistic period, although such modern terms, of course, would have been meaningless to the ancient Greeks and one does wonder whether projecting lesbianism on to a figure like Sappho is anything other than an ideological move motivated by queer-feminist politics.) 

       According to legend, Sappho killed herself by leaping from the Leucadian cliffs due to her unrequited love for the ferryman Phaon; a story related to a myth about the goddess Aphrodite and one that is regarded as ahistorical by modern scholars.

 

[2] I'm referring to Annabella Lwin, lead vocalist with Bow Wow Wow, and their track 'Sexy Eiffel Towers' on Your Cassette Pet (EMI, 1980), an eroticised tale of teen suicide involving a leap from the sexiest building left: click here to play. 

      

[3] Nietzsche, The Gay Science (1882), trans. Walter Kaufmann (Vintage Books, 1974), IV. 283, p. 228.

      

[4] The pre-Socratic philosopher Empedocles famously threw himself into the lava and flames of Mount Etna and his death has been mythologised by writers and artists ever-since. Whether he believed that this would guarantee his immortality or not, the fact is that his name lives on to this day. The Roman poet Horace refers to the death of Empedocles in his work Ars Poetica and suggests that great thinkers have not only the right, but almost a duty, to destroy themselves. 

 

[5] Deleuze committed suicide on 4 November 1995 by jumping from the window of his apartment in Paris. He was suffering from increasingly severe respiratory problems that made even simple tasks difficult (including writing, though I'm not sure we can describe that as a simple task). 

      Whether his surrendering to the call of the void marked a loss of desire on his part, however, is debatable; it could be that his decision to terminate his own individual existence was a way of affirming life and thus indicates a final resurgence of vitality. In other words, his suicide might be seen as a logical way for Deleuze to show fidelity to his own philosophy, rather than merely a wish to end his suffering. 

      See the post entitled 'Three French Suicides' (31 Jan 2024) in which I discuss Deleuze's death in relation to the deaths of Olga-Georges Picot and Christina Pascal (both of whom also answered the call of the void): click here.  

 

 

For a sister post to this one, click here.  

 

 

Russ Bestley: 'Turning Revolt Into Style' (2025): Notes on Chapters 3-5

Russ Bestley: Turning Revolt Into Style 

(Manchester University Press, 2025)

 

 

I.

 

It's true that although UK punk began in London, it soon spread elsewhere; that it was neither a uniform nor static phenomenon; that it was "subject to rapid and dramatic change over time, particularly as local scenes sprang up across the country" [a]. 

 

But whereas Bestley, like most other punk scholars, is interested in the way in which "punk's evolutionary diaspora was as much geographical as it was temporal and aesthetic" [103], I have to admit that my own interest tends to begin and end at 430 King's Road. 

 

And whilst I wouldn't dismiss the punk scene as it developed in Leeds, or Manchester, or even Penzance [b] as part of the "'incorporation and containment'" [c] of McLaren's project, I do think that the Sex Pistols were something distinctly different, as recognised by Bernard Brook-Partridge [d].

 

In brief, whether we choose to think of them as the "extreme ideological wing of the Peculiars" [e], or as a group of Dickensian yobs looking to swindle their way to the top of the music industry whence they could shit on their own success, they were not a punk band merely offering us, in Rotten's words, a bit of a twang, a giggle ... [f].           

 

 

II. 

 

Post-punk: an aesthetic and stylistic expansion, which, to be fair, did result in some great records and previously unknown pleasures. 

 

And I'd concede the point that one cannot stay forever at the level of the ruins, like those "sections of the original punk scene ossified around a set of fixed aesthetic conventions" [106]. Ultimately, one has to "build up new little habitats, have new little hopes"[g] and even McLaren and Westwood ditched punk for piracy in 1980 and set off in search of new sounds, new looks, and new adventures.   

 

But, on the other hand, I'm extremely wary of those who think Metal Box is more fun than The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle, or more radical than Your Cassette Pet - and I'm sorry to say that seems to include Bestley, who describes the former as ground-breaking and thrills to the album's dub rhythms and "Lydon's leftfield, poetic lyrics" [105], whilst not once mentioning either of the other two albums.     

 

 

III. 

 

Extreme punk politics: from puritanical anarcho-hippies Crass, to fascist morons Skrewdriver - what can one say? 

 

Punk, as I understood it, rejected political asceticism of all varieties; it had no time for "the sad militants, the terrorists of theory, those who would preserve the pure order of politics and political discourse" [h]. 

 

Punk was not apolitical; but it was transpolitical ...

 

 

IV.  

 

"A significant part of the emerging punk aesthetic was driven by enthusiastic followers and amateur producers ..." [124] 

  

Sadly, it seems to me that amateurism is, in this professional era, increasingly looked down upon (with the possible exception being that of amateur porn; the erotic folk art of our digital age). 

 

Which is a pity: for I tend to be of a Greek persuasion and consider the amateur as a virtuous figure; open minded, devoted, and full of passion for their discipline regardless of whether this brings public recognition or generates an income. 

 

Ultimately, as Roland Barthes notes, the true amateur is not defined by inferior knowledge or an imperfect technique, but, rather, by the fact that he does not not identify himself to others in order to impress or intimidate; nor constantly worry about status and reputation. 

 

Also, crucially, the amateur unsettles the distinction between work and play, art and life, which is doubtless why they are feared by those who like to police borders, protect categories, and form professional associations.  

 

Having said that, the fact remains that the "history of punk graphics in the United Kingdom starts [... and I'm tempted to say finishes] with Jamie Reid" [124], whose work for the Sex Pistols captured what they were about with a high degree of skill and style.   

 

Obviously, there were many other design practitioners and graphic artists who emerged at the time of punk and contributed to it. But, other than Winston Smith - who was associated with the American punk band the Dead Kennedy's - and Nick Egan, who worked in partnership with McLaren in the post-Pistols period, I can't think of any whose work ever really excited my interest.  

 

I know a lot of people rave, for example, about Peter Saville's cover for the first Joy Division album (Unknown Pleasures, 1979) and Mike Coles's cover for the eponymous debut album by Killing Joke (1980) [i]. However, whilst they're both vaguely interesting works, neither really means anything to me, whereas Reid's Never Mind the Bollocks cover still makes smile almost 50 years later.    

 

 

V. 

 

Chapter 4 concludes on a slightly depressing note (but true, of course):

 

"Despite the rhetoric of the punk 'revolution', little changed at the major labels [...] The recorded music industry was founded on the core principles of innovation and novelty, at least in relation to identifying new artists that could be moulded and exploited to generate popular appeal. The commercially viable areas of punk and new wave were rapidly absorbed, just like the at-the-time radical music and youth scenes that preceded them." [151]

 

Similarly, while some of the "new breed of punk-inspired graphic designers set themselves apart from the traditional art departments [...] many of the more successful practitioners joined the ranks of the commercial studios as time went on" [151].

 

In brief, never trust a punk [j] and remember - to paraphrase Nietzsche writing in the Genealogy - no one is more corruptible than a graphic artist ... [k]   

 

 

VI. 

 

I think the main takeaway from Bestley's book is that amateurs and professionals need one another and that both types of producer "informed the wider punk aesthetic and reflected common visual conventions that were emerging as the new subculture made a nationwide impact" [154].

 

Those who lack education, skills, and material resources but who still attempt to do things for themselves should not be looked down on. But inverted snobbery aimed at those who are professionally trained and talented and do have access to the very latest technologies [l] is also unwarranted. 

 

 

VII.   

   

Whilst I'm not particularly interested in the "range of processes chosen by punk and post-punk designers for the origination and print reproduction of record sleeves, posters and other visual materials" [155], there are passages in Chapter 5 of Turning Revolt Into Style that caught my attention and in which Bestley's analysis is spot on. 

 

For example, I agree that the reason many punk visual tropes and techniques work so well is because they not only "drew upon a much longer tradition of agitprop art and design" [157], but unfolded within "a new context that extended into mainstream culture resulting in [...] a more powerful impact" [157].

 

In other words, things such as record sleeves, posters, badges, etc., "were not fine art objects to be appreciated by connoisseurs in galleries and exhibitions; they were examples of mass-produced printed ephemera that conveyed a sense of identity and subcultural capital" [157].

 

Of course, today, many of these same objects are in fine art galleries and museums and cultural capital is now big business. 

 

Thus, for example, a copy of the one-off official Sex Pistols newspaper, Anarchy in the U. K., produced by Jamie Reid in collaboration with Sophie Richmond, Ray Stevenson, Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, and featuring a striking photo of Soo Catwoman on the cover, may have had a cover price of 20p when it was sold on the Anarchy Tour in 1976, but it will now set you back £2000 if you wish to buy it from Peter Harrington in Mayfair: click here. 

 

Cash from chaos, as someone once said ...

 

 

VIII.   

 

Bestley mentions many of the more successful punk fanzines; Sniffin' Glue, Ripped & Torn, Chainsaw, etc. - and several of the fanzines produced outside of London which "reflected the development of scenes well beyond punk's stereotypical epicentre" [172].

 

One that he doesn't mention and won't know of - one that probably only me and one other person in the world remember - was Yourself which was a single photocopied page of A4, printed on both sides, and freely distributed amongst the student body of a small Catholic college which, at that time (1981) was affiliated with the University of Leeds. 

 

The subtitle read: 19 and young - 20 and old (ageism was a defining feature of punk as I remember it back in the day) and the text called for a rejection of all authority, particularly beginning with the letter 'P' (parents, priests, and policemen, for example). 

        

 

IX.

Ultimately, as Bow Wow Wow once informed us, it's T-E-K technology - not punk rock or other forms of subcultural activity - that really brings about fundamental change in society; demolishing patriarchal structures and creating greater degrees of A-U-T autonomy [m]. 

As Bestley notes in his closing remarks to Chapter 5, "changes in the social and technical practices of design blurred the boundaries between amateur and professional production" [178-79]. He continues:

"Changing technologies and the culmination of an ongoing restructuring of the labour market [...] enabled more control along with creative freedom for a new generation of designers ..." [179]

 

 

Notes

 

[a] Russ Bestley, Turning Revolt Into Style: The process and practice of punk graphic design (Manchester University Press, 2025), p. 103. All future page references to this text will be given directly in the post.

 

[b] See Simon Parker's PZ77: A Town a Time A Tribe (Scryfa, 2022), for a nostalgic look back at the punk scene in Penzance in 1977. And for my thoughts on this work, see the post entitled 'Punk History is for Pissing On' (21 Sept 2025): click here. 

      In brief: I don't like it. Bestley seems to approve of punk bands acknowledging their roots and paying homage to their locality and that of their friends, family, and fans; singing about "the issues that affected their local community" [113]. But that kind of folksy provincialism doesn't really appeal to me (not even when it's the Clash singing about West London). 

      In part, the is due to my own intellectual background in schizonomadic philosophy; home is made for coming from, it's not somewhere to idealise (or even dream of going to). Punk, at it's best, is headless and homeless (one might do well to recall the destination of the Sex Pistols bus as well as Poly Styrene's problematising of identity). Remember kids: civic pride is simply a form of micro-nationalism.

 

[c] Gary Clarke, quoted by Russ Bestley in Turning Revolt Into Style, p. 103.

 

[d] Brook-Partridge was a high-profile Tory who served as chairman of the Greater London Council's arts committee (1977-79). He famously described punk rock as "nauseating, disgusting, degrading, ghastly, sleazy,  prurient, voyeuristic and generally nauseating". 

      Singling out the Sex Pistols as the worst of the punk rock groups, Brook-Partridge labelled them as the "antithesis of humankind" and suggested that "the whole world would be vastly improved by their total and utter non-existence". 

      Malcolm so-loved this, that a filmed recording of Brook-Partridge uttering these words was included in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (dir. Julien Temple, 1980). As far as I recall, no other punk (post-punk, or new wave) band ever solicited such a vitriolic response. Click here to watch on YouTube.

 

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

 

[f] Of course, Rotten himself would eventually collaborate with Virgin Records and build himself a long term career in the music business. 

 

[g] D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover, ed. Michael Squires (Cambridge University Press, 1993), p. 5. 

 

[h] Michel Foucault, Preface to Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-Oedipus, tran. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (The Athlone Press, 1984), p. xii.

 

[i] Bestley discusses Cole's Killing Joke sleeve on p. 141 of Turning Revolt Into Style. 

 

[j] Jamie Reid came to the same conclusion and in 2007 he issued a limited edition giclee print with this title; an ironic inversion of the 'Never Trust a Hippy' slogan from The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle.  

 

[k] See Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morality, III. 25. 

      For Nietzsche, the artist, as a creator, should actively invest and transform the world; not simply represent it by holding up a mirror to the times. Or, failing all else, the artist should be prepared to return the world to its chaotic character and become a great destroyer.

      Unfortunately, Nietzsche was obliged to accept that the becoming-decadent of even our greatest artists is far more likely than their becoming-untimely.  

 

[l] Often, knowledge of and access to new technology was what mostly "separated the professionals from the amateurs, the commissioned from the vernacular" [170]. 

 

[m] I'm quoting from the lyrics to the Bow Wow Wow single 'W.O.R.K (N.O. Nah No My Daddy Don't)', written by Malcolm Mclaren and released on EMI Records (1981). 

 

To read the first post in this series - Notes on the Introduction - click here. 

 

To read the second post in this series - Notes on Chapters 1 & 2 - click here. 

 

To read the fourth and final post in this series - Notes on Chapters 6-8 - click here.  

 

 

Russ Bestley: 'Turning Revolt Into Style' (2025): Notes on Chapters 1-2

A Gentleman and a Punk Scholar [a]

Stephen Alexander à la Jamie Reid (2025) 

 

I. 

 

Russ Bestley's new book, Turning Revolt Into Style (2025), is divided into eight chapters and an Introduction that I discussed here.   

 

In this post, I will offer some remarks on Chapter 1, which introduces the notion of punk graphic design and its core themes, and Chapter 2, which "interrogates the range of design methods that were utilised in response to these punk thematic ideals" [b]. 

 

 

II. 

 

"Punk's original premise ..." [24] - did punk ever really have such? 

 

I suppose one might regard sex, style, and subversion as a thematic slogan - and punk was as accomplished at sloganeering as it was at political posturing and posing for the cameras - but I'd hesitate before speaking of a punk premise when punk was far from being a coherent philosophy or aesthetic and "simply an umbrella term that could be applied to an eclectic and disparate range of activity" [24] [c]. 

 

Still, let's not get get bogged down with the opening three words of the first chapter and broadly agree with Bestley that punk's core themes were "provocation, individuality, novelty, directness, honesty and authenticity" [25-26] and that these things were reflected in the sound and look of punk. 

 

And let's remember that Bestley is a graphic designer, not a philosopher; i.e., he's someone concerned with a "range of physical, designed objects" including "flyers, posters, photographs, clothing, badges, fanzines and record covers" [26] rather than with language, with which he seems to have an unproblematic relationship.

 

Bestley is not a bad writer. But he is an assured writer: one for whom words possess clear meanings and are used straightforwardly to convey information as concisely and precisely as possible.

 

However, whilst it's good to think in a material manner (in terms of objects), that shouldn't mean one fails to think also in a more abstract or symbolic manner (in terms of ideas); a good writer understands that language might move beyond being merely communicative in a narrow, functional manner and become a medium in which we can construct new thoughts [d].  

 

 

III. 

 

This seems an important point: 

 

"The diversity of punk graphic design styles and aesthetics needs to be understood in relation to three loosely defined groups of visual practitioners ..." [27] - amateurs; up-and-coming designers (often out of art school); and established design professionals. 

 

If it was "the simplicity of the lo-tech, handmade flyers produced by Helen Wellington-Lloyd and Jamie Reid for the Sex Pistols, along with an underground revolution in homemade fanzines and other printed ephemera produced by inspired and enthusiastic fans [...] that kickstarted a punk design aesthetic" [28], it was, by contrast, "the hugely influential work of professional art directors and designers [...] that helped it reach a mainstream audience" [28].

 

And this, for me at least, is an interesting point: Reid's ransom note typography for his work with the Sex Pistols was not widely copied or "commonly used on record covers for other punk artists" [34], even whilst it was soon recognised as visual shorthand for punk. Bestley writes:

 

"The success - and notoriety - of the Sex Pistols [...] was a double-edged sword: on the one hand, punk was beginning to develop a recognisable set of visual styles, largely centred on Reid's work [...] At the same time, largely due to its powerful visual impact, ransom note typography [...] quickly became symbolic of early UK punk in the mainstream media and therefore a cliché to be best avoided unless the designer's intention was to make a parodic comment on the commercial exploitation of the new subculture." [37]

 

This makes me wonder about my continued use of Reid-inspired graphics as in the God Save ... poster featuring Bestley above. Is it possible for something that has been assimilated by the mainstream culture - Reid's work is found in collections all over the world, including the National Portrait Gallery and the V&A here in the UK - to be reclaimed? 

 

In other words, can the recuperated punk image be subject to a technique of détournement?    

 

 

IV. 

 

"The inclusion of a photograph of the group - standard practice in the pop music market going back to the 1950s - is prevalent in many early punk record sleeves, though the convention was rejected by some groups, including the Sex Pistols ..." [37]

 

Other punk groups displayed no such qualms with having their ugly mugs plastered on record covers and before long there was a standard picture; band members standing in a gritty urban environment trying to look menacing "and graphically treated to render a high contrast, distressed or distorted image" [40]. 

 

As punk became ever-more commodified and commercialised, "by far the most common visual trope in the depiction of a punk rock group is the band lined-up against a brick or concrete wall" [41] - see the Clash, for example, on the cover of their eponymous debut album (1977) [e], or posing as rebel rockers on the front of Sandinista! (1980).  

 

And some people still think of them as the only band that matters ...!

 

 

V.

 

"Punk was no erudite ideological critique ..." [51] 

 

Well, that's certainly true; "most punk discourse was rhetorical and performative" [51], though McLaren and Westwood may have fancied they had something of political importance to say and they provided punk with "an appropriately anatgonistic" [51] language and look drawn from various sources, promiscuously and irresponsibly "mixing symbols of insurrection and revolution" [52] with images drawn from popular culture and pornography. 

      

And better their playful politics of provocation and art school pranksterism, surely, than the militant asceticism of bands like Crass, or, on the other side of the fence, the politics of those punks who supported far-right movements and replaced witty intelligent lyrics with a grunted two-letter interjection.    

 

 

VI. 

 

And speaking of art school pranksterism ...

 

Bestley makes the fair point that "while Malcolm McLaren and Jamie Reid had indeed caught the late 1960s zeitgeist and attempted to engage with the then current ideas of the Situationists [...] while at art college [...] the suggestion of substantive links between participants in the wider punk scene and the work of earlier art groups is less convincing" [57]. 

 

That's why, one might argue, the Sex Pistols interest and excite far more than most of the artless and ideologically clueless punk bands that followed. I know many sneered at those who played along with the art school boys - including Rotten - but I don't have much time for such philistine and reactionary stupidity disguised as "working-class politics and street level 'authenticity'" [58]. Ultimately, where would we be without creative intellectuals such as cousin Kevin? [f]

 

 

VII. 

 

DIY: to tell the truth, I've always hated this three-letter initialism and the kind of people who spend their weekends in B&Q, priding themselves on being able to turn their hand to all sorts of job, even though do-it-yourself was an oft-repeated punk mantra and core ethic even among "many groups and artists signed to major labels and operating in the mainstream music industry" [59].  

 

I suppose, I've always been intrigued by the aristocratic (anti-utilitarian) idea that one attains sovereignty not by doing things for oneself, but by not doing anything and by refusing to be a useful or productive human being [g]. 

 

Knowing how to operate a photocopier or printing press does not a scarlet poppy make you ...     

 

 

VIII. 

 

The appropriation of visual material (including found images) and "the use of détournement as a subversive method" [78] is something I very much admire about punk graphic design and artwork. And so is the deployment of humour:

 

"Beneath all the rhetoric and 'shocking' behaviour, the early punk scene in the United Kingdom displayed a deep-seated ironic intelligence [...] The scene was [...] deeply self-aware and parodic, with a keen sense of the absurdity of its own rebellion ..." [84]

 

Bestley continues:

 

"Punk's embrace of parody, pastiche and irony was played out in lyrics, dress, interviews, artwork and music. These kind of strategies were not unfamiliar to artists and designers [...] The long tradition of satirical insurrection, from Dada to Duchamp, the Surrealists to the Situationist International, offered a rich resource for punk graphic designers and visual communicators to plunder." [84]   

 

As I argued in a post published on 28 February 2025 - click here - fun is not only a vital component of playfulness (i.e., hedonic engagement with the world), but it can also help one avoid what Wilde terms humanity's original sin, i.e., self-seriousness [h].  

 

I think it's crucial therefore to stress that punk was essentially a revolution for fun and that the Sex Pistols embodied a notion of the ridiculous, the most crucial aspect of which is that it solicits, incites, or provokes laughter [i]. 

 

To quote once more from Bestley: "While the notion of détournement suggests a politically charged, subversive intent, much punk graphic design appropriation was simply playful and witty ..." [86]  

 

 

IX. 

 

And finally ... 

 

One of the defining characteristics of post-punk, writes Bestley, was the fact that they attempted to operate withing "a wider and more sophisticated musical and visual arena" [99]; i.e., to "raise the intellectual bar away from 'outdated' and inarticulate punk themes and into an aspirational new decade" [99].  

 

Personally, however, I preferred Bow Wow Wow to Joy Division; post-punk pirates to post-punk miserabilists ...   

 

 

Notes

 

[a] Russ Bestley is a Reader in Graphic Design & Subcultures at London College of Communication. 

      He is also Lead Editor of the academic journal Punk & Post-Punk, Series Editor and Art Director for the Global Punk book series published by Intellect Books, a founding member of the Punk Scholars Network, and head of the Subcultures Interest Group at UAL. His research archive can be accessed at hitsvilleuk.com.  

 

[b] Russ Bestley, Turning Revolt Into Style, (Manchester University Press, 2025), p. 19. All future page references to this text will be given directly in the post.  

 

[c] I discuss the problematic term punk in the notes made on the Introduction to Turning Revolt Into Style - click here - and in a post published on 13 March 2025: click here. For me, the term wasn't quickly co-opted - it was itself the linguistic means of co-option; a way to overcode, simplify, and negate. As Bestley notes, the term punk allowed a "reflective metanarrative" [29] to develop as well as a new youth market.  

      Bestley's use of the term umbrella is perhaps more appropriate than he realises. For I would suggest that what the Sex Pistols attempted to do was cut a hole in the great umbrella erected betweeen ourselves and the forever surging chaos of existence (we mean by umbrella our ideals, our conventions, and fixed forms of every description). 

      The Sex Pistols were essentially cultural terrorists; the enemy of human security and comfort. But no matter how many times they managed to make a tiny hole in the painted underside of the Umbrella, along came other bands to ensure things were speedily repaired. And the majority of us, if we're honest, prefer a patched-up reality to the sheer intensity of lived experience; which is why we quite like those punk and new wave bands who followed the Sex Pistols. 

      D. H. Lawrence introduces this idea of chaos and the great umbrella in his text entitled 'Chaos in Poetry', which can be found in Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 107-116.    

 

[d] Am I being unfair here? Maybe. 

      But Bestley writes with confidence, clarity, and authority and these are not traits that I value in a writer. I suspect he believes that there are certain objective truths and indisputable facts about punk on which everyone who has attained a certain level of education can manage to agree. Thus, thanks to the inherent certainties of language and shared common sense, critical consensus is both possible and desirable.

      I would deny this and I would also contest the author's consciously exercised control over their own work; i.e., bring into question a writer's ability to ever fully understand their subject with any confidence or certainty.

 

[e] Bestley describes the cover thus: 

      "The front cover is based on a photograph by Kate Simon depicting the three main group members, Paul Simonon, Joe Strummer and Mick Jones in an alleyway adjacent to their rehearsal studio. Wearing suitably punk stage clothing, the musicians look directly at the camera without smiling. The connotations of the image are clear: punks are embattled urban survivors, their territory the rundown street. The photograph is reproduced in stark, high contrast black and white, with all the midtones stripped out through a deliberately heavy halftone image treatment." [94-95]

      The key point is:

"While the album cover offers several graphic references to the visual language of punk fanzines and the DIY revolution, this is a sophisticated graphic composition that sets out to play down the technical skill of the designer ..." [95]. 

      In other words, the gritty authenticity of punk is a form of artifice; the Clash were plastic punks after all.

 

[f] I'm referring here, of course, to a line from the song 'My Perfect Cousin' by the Undertones, released as a single from their second studio album Hypnotised (Sire Records, 1980). It was the band's only top ten UK hit, reaching number 9 in the charts. The track was written by Damian O'Neill and Michael Bradley. To play on YouTube - and watch the video directed by Julien Temple - click here. 

      I love the song, but I have to admit I'm sympathetic to Zanti Misfit's defence of Kevin, the perfect cousin, published on The Afterword (03/06/2015): click here. 

 

[g] This is why I've always loved the X-Ray Spex track 'I Can't Do Anything' on Germ Free Adolescents (EMI, 1978): click to play here. 

      For an interesting essay by George McKay that critically interrogates and reconceptualises the DIY/punk nexus, with particular reference to the early UK punk scene, see 'Was Punk DIY? Is Punk DIY?' in DIY: Alternative Cultures & Society Vol. 2, Issue 1 (April, 2024): click here to read online. 

      Challenging Bestley's view of DIY as being an essential component of the punk philosophy, McKay suggests the two concepts should be decoupled; that DIY needs depunking so to speak, in order that it might be liberated as a far broader (and more radical) practice.

 

[h] One recalls Oscar Wilde's line from The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890): 'If only the caveman had known how to laugh ...'

 

[i] See the post entitled 'In Defence of Fun' (3 June 2024) - click here - and the post entitled 'On the Nature of the Ridiculous (and the Ridiculous Nature of the Sex Pistols) (21 March 2024): click here. 

 

 

The following post in this four-part series on Russ Bestley's Turning Revolt Into Style, can be read by clicking here. 

 

Memories of a Duck Rocker

Nick Egan: Front cover of Malcolm McLaren's Duck Rock (1983) [1]

and Duck Rock (2023), a mixed media collage on canvas, 48 × 36 in [2]

 

 

I. 

 

I was very pleased to discover that the artist, designer, and film director Nick Egan is alive and well and living in the Hollywood Hills with his wife and family. 

 

I was even happier to discover that he has recently been reimagining some of the record covers he designed back in the 1980s; including Malcolm McLaren's Duck Rock (1983), which has been transformed from a 12" square image into a large mixed media collage on canvas, using digital artwork, airbrush, oil pastels, acrylic and metallic paints.    

 

Still referencing the art of Keith Haring and Dondi White [3], which formed such a vital part of the original work, it also includes the magically customised boom box (or ghetto blaster, as we used to say) designed by Ron West, that became known as the Duck Rocker - one of the most iconic objects in the cultural history of hip-hop.   

 

Due to the size and shape of Egan's 2023 work, it reminds one of poster art; and in fact Egan has admitted that this was his intention:  

 

'I saw it as a poster that had been put up on the walls of a New York subway station, with the Duck Rocker retained as the base image, but, as time went on, people would come by and graffiti over it. Some would try to peel it off the wall, and others would stick another flyer over it until it became almost unrecognisable from the original, exactly how it would look if it did appear on a subway wall.'

 

I suppose it's fair to say that Duck Rock is Egan's greatest achievement as a designer of record covers [4]; although his recreation of Édouard Manet's Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe (1863) for the cover of the Bow Wow Wow album See Jungle! See Jungle! Go Join Your Gang Yeah, City All Over! Go Ape Crazy! (1981), will always just top it for some of us [5].

 

 

II. 

 

I first met Nick Egan back in the spring of 1983, at Malcolm's first floor office on Denmark Street, after he'd kindly offered to help find me a six-week work attachment of some description. He was very tall and thin with lots of blonde hair and wore a large punk-style jumper, a pair of striped pirate trousers, and a Buffalo coat from Nostalgia of Mud, so looked good.     

 

He gave me several names and numbers to try, including that of the press officer at Charisma Records, and told me not to worry as he was sure something could definitely be arranged (although unfortunately not at Moulin Rouge, as he and McLaren were both going to be in New York for a lot of the time in April and May). 

Thus it was I ended up at 90 Wardour Street; in the Charisma offices above the Marquee Club, working as Lee Ellen Newman's assistant (and general dog's body). Amongst my more amusing assignments was taking the Duck Rocker to the HMV, where it was to feature in a window display dressed by Nick to promote Malcolm's album [6].

 

Whether this was the original customised boom box - or one of several that were made - I'm not sure; but it looked fantastic and was surprisingly heavier to carry than one might imagine. Judging by the stares of astonishment it received - and the number of people who stopped me as I walked along Oxford Street requesting a photo - it wasn't only the Zulus in South Africa, the Hip-hoppers in New York, or the Hilltoppers in the Appalachian Mountains, who were enchanted by it.       

Unfortunately, I didn't think to have a photo taken with the Duck Rocker. However, here's a picture taken in the Charisma press office, standing in front of a smaller replica (which, I think, was eventually given away as a prize in a Smash Hits competition), accompanied by a photo of Malcolm in NYC with the mighty original [7].

Notes

 

[1] Malcolm McLaren's groundbreaking studio album Duck Rock, produced by Trevor Horn, was originally released on Charisma Records in 1983. Arguably, it has proved to be as influential - if not more so - than Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (1977). 

      A 40th anniversary double vinyl edition was issued on the independent label State51 Conspiracy in 2023. This featured six additional tracks and was produced in collaboration with Young Kim of the Malcolm McLaren Estate: click here for details.

 

[2] Duck Rock (2023), by Nick Egan, is available to buy from the Wilma Gallery: click here for more details. For those who can't afford the asking price of the original canvas (£22,800), there are some very nice limited edition prints available, starting from just £150: click here. 

      Other works by Egan can also be viewed on (and purchased from) the Wilma Gallery website: click here.     

[3] Keith Haring (1958-1990), was an American Pop artist who emerged from the New York City graffiti subculture of the 1980s. At Nick Egan's invitation, he provided the illustration that formed the pink background image of the Duck Rock sleeve (for which he was paid $1000).

      Dondi White (1961-1998), was also an American street artist; he provided the Duck Rock lettering, again having been asked to do so by Nick Egan (unfortunately, I don't know how much he was paid).

 

[4] The album cover artwork for Duck Rock is now included in the permanent collection of New York's Museum of Modern Art: click here.

 

[5] Amusingly, Egan transformed Andy Earl's 1981 photograph, inspired by Manet's canvas, back into a painting entitled We're Only in it For the Manet (2023): click here for details. 

      By his own admission, Egan always felt a little awkward being credited for the original record sleeve, as it contained none of his graphics; yes, he directed the photo shoot, but the artist responsible for the actual image was Andy Earl. With this new canvas, however, he has made it very much his own.       

      For those who are interested, I explain why I love Manet's Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe in a post on TTA dated 27 April 2017: click here. 

[6] According to my diary, this was Monday 23 May, 1983. 

      Amusingly, Malcolm had agreed to dance with a buffalo gal in the store window on the following Saturday, but he pulled out at the very last minute, insisting he must have been drunk to have ever agreed to such; much to Lee Ellen's irritation, as she had already informed several journalists who went along to witness the event.  

 

[7] The photo was taken by Bob Gruen in April 1983. Many more wonderful photos of McLaren taken by Gruen can be found on the latter's website: click here.

 

 

Bonus 1: click here for a fascinating interview with Nick Egan conducted by Mike Goldstein in August 2013, in which he discusses his work with Malcolm on the cover of Duck Rock. As Egan makes clear, he was involved with McLaren as a conceptual partner rather than simply an art director; in other words, he worked on Duck Rock from its inception all the way through its recording and mixing, contributing ideas at every stage. 

      Egan is currently working on a book project which explores the cultural influence of Malcolm McLaren and features his artwork from the Duck Rock period. 

 

Bonus 2: To watch the feature documentary Creative Vandal (dir. Peter Pahor, 2024), chronicling the career of Nick Egan, click here. 

 

Bonus 3: The essential track on Duck Rock is, of course, 'Buffalo Gals', which was released as a single in November 1982 on Charisma Records. The video pretty much captures what was happening in NYC at the time (filtered through the imagination of Malcolm McLaren who directed it): click here.

      For those who might be interested, my post on 'Buffalo Gals' (dated 19 Feb 2019) can be accessed by clicking here.