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 Screwdriver - 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.  

 

 

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.     

 

Memories of Summer '84: Charisma

Just another day in the press office at Charisma Records 

for Jazz and Lee Ellen (1984)

 

 

Entry from The Von Hell Diaries Tuesday 7 August 1984

By the time I got into Charisma this morning, Lee Ellen was already freaking out because Malcolm had cancelled three cover-interviews [1]. As she tried to re-arrange things, I was sent over to McLaren's office on Denmark Street with two cheques: the first for £5000 (a video fee) and the second for £20,000 (advance against the next album). 

 

I had also been given a letter, marked private and confidential, that I was instructed to hand personally to Malcolm. Unfortunately, there was no one in to receive either the letter or the cheques when I got to Moulin Rouge. However, on the way out I bumped into Malcolm and we both went up to his first floor office.

 

Clearly, the contents of the letter were not to his liking. And when Carrolle [2] arrived, he told her she couldn't have the half-day agreed, but would have to type up an immediate reply, which I was to then take back to Charisma. While they worked on the letter, I chatted with Andrea [3] who, by this time, had also arrived at the office. 

 

As well as the letter, Malcolm also gave me three tape cassettes and a small box containing 'valuable jewellery' that he wanted to have couriered to Nick Egan [4] in New York without the US customs knowing anything about it. I was told to wrap the things up carefully and if anyone asked at Charisma what the package contained I should tell them it was a rubber fish. 

 

For security, I was put in a cab by Carrolle - even though the walk from Denmark Street to Wardour Street is literally only a few minutes via Soho Square.              

 

Later, Lee Ellen called me and said I should meet her at 6 o'clock at the Soho Brasserie on Old Compton Street, where Malcolm was going to give an interview to someone from Time Out. Had a fun night chatting, eating sausages, and drinking Black Russians. The Melody Maker journalist Colin Irwin joined us - he's clearly in love with Lee Ellen, but then, to be fair, who isn't?

 

The terrible trio - Glen Colson, Jock Scott, and Keith Allen [5] - also briefly came over. Not sure I'm a fan of the latter; a bit too aggessive for my tastes, so glad when he and his pals headed off to the Wag Club. 

 

Found it ironic that, interview over, Talcy Macly of all people should tell me he's never seen anyone as pale as I am. He asked Lee Ellen what she'd being doing to me. 

 

He also advised that I needed to 'calm down' a little, saying that he'd never want to rob a bank with me as I made him a nervous wreck. 'Listen Jazz boy', he said, 'you've got to learn how to make people feel comfortable. Be a bit more cunning; don't show so much enthusiasm'. Having acted as my mentor-cum-career's advisor, he then launched into a long (but fascinating) monologue about Oscar Wilde. 

 

With regret, I left in time to catch the last tube back to Chiswick. Lee Ellen told me the next day that Malcolm kept her up until 2am with his stories and his complaints that pictures from a recent photo session had made him look like Michael Bentine. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Lee Ellen Newman was the Press Officer at Charisma Records, a label founded in 1969 by Tony Stratton Smith and home to a few old hippies, such as Genesis, but also the label to which Malcolm McLaren was signed.

[2] Carrolle Payne was McLaren's Personal Assistant at Moulin Rouge (25, Denmark Steet). 

  

[3] Andrea Linz was a talented fashion student and McLaren's girlfriend and muse at the time. 

 

[4] Nick Egan is a visual artist and graphic designer who collaborated with Mclaren on many projects in the early and mid-1980s. 

 

[5] Glen Colson was a music publicist associated with Charisma Records; Jock Scott was a popular performance poet (about whom I published a post on 18 April 2016 in his memory - click here); Keith Allen was associated at this time with a group of British comic actors known as the Comic Strip. 

 

 

Musical bonus: Malcolm McLaren, 'Madam Butterfly (un bel di vedremo)', single released from the album Fans (Charisma Records, 1984) on 20 August 1984: click here. Video directed by Terence Donovan.

 

 

For further memories of the summer of 1984, click here and/or here.    

 

From the Office of Malcolm McLaren

 

I. 

 

Whilst rummaging through a box of what I call treasures and others label junk, I came across some stolen stationery from Malcolm McLaren's first floor office at 25 Denmark Street ...

 

This included a few sheets of headed paper with the names of the two limited companies which McLaren traded under post-Glitterbest [1]; Tour D'Eiffel Productions and Moulin Rouge.     

 

The latter incorporates the figure of a can-can dancer into its logo, whilst the former includes a comic character who appears to have been taken from a saucy postcard. 

 

Both speak of McLaren's Francophilia, or, more precisely, his long fascination with the French capital; something I've discussed in an earlier post published on Torpedo the Ark [2]. And they also tell us something of his playful spirit and joie de vivre.  

 

 

II. 

 

According to biographer Paul Gorman, McLaren was working out of the office on Tin Pan Alley from the early spring of 1980 until moving full-time to LA in 1985 [3]. 

 

This was an incredibly creative period in which McLaren not only managed Bow Wow Wow, oversaw Worlds End and Nostalgia of Mud, but developed his own solo career as a recording artist - releasing Duck Rock in 1983 and Fans the following year.

 

I first went to the office on 30 March, 1983, having been invited to call up by Nick Egan [4] the day before (I was attempting to arrange a six-week work attachment as part of a degree course on critical theory, art and media):

 

 

Finally met Carrolle [5]: she looked great dressed in a McLaren-Westwood outfit with a big death or glory belt buckle holding things together; reddish-purple hair; multiple earrings. Very friendly; an East End girl. 

      Malcolm wasn't there, but the two black Americans hanging around were, apparently, the World's Famous Supreme Team [6] - so that was kind of amusing.

      Admired the large 'Zulus on a Time Bomb' [7] poster on the wall - next to a map of the world and some old movie posters, including one for the Elvis Presley film Love Me Tender [8].   

      Nick Egan arrived - he also looked great; very tall, slim, punky blonde hair, wearing striped trousers, a big jumper and a Buffalo-style sheepskin coat. He introduced me to a photographer, Neil Matthews, and gave me some names and numbers to call. This included Lee Ellen, the press officer at Charisma Records, who he was sure could find me something to do (unfortunately, he and Malcolm couldn't help directly, as they were going to be in New York).

      Even though Malcolm wasn't there in person - he had something wrong with his ear - it was clear everything revolved around him; Malcolm says ... Malcolm wants ... Malcolm needs, etc. That's understandable, as he's the star of the show, but it does reduce everyone else to the status of a satellite. 

      Left the office feeling happy. Went for a coffee on Old Compton Street. [9]   

 

Fourteen months later, however, and everything was rapidly coming to an end; the roof had fallen in at Charisma Records - literally and metaphorically, Tony Stratton-Smith having sold the company to Richard Branson - and McLaren had relocated to Hollywood, leaving me and Carrolle to close the office at 25 Denmark Street once last time ...

Carrolle starts her new job tomorrow. I went over to help her shut up shop so to speak; took us several hours to take down shelves and pack everything away - books, posters, papers ... etc.

      Although Carrolle was upset, she laughed when she heard from Malcolm on the phone, complaining about an old biddy who had been appointed as his secretary at Columbia Pictures and who was driving him up the wall. Whilst I'm sure Malcolm will have fun in LA, I suspect he'll miss London. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he returned sooner rather than later. The latter might be a muddy hole, as he says, but he's very much a Londoner at heart [10].

      Carrolle let me have the large map of the world off the wall as a souvenir. I also grabbed a copy of the Bow Wow Wow single 'Louis Quatorze' that was lying around. Left the office feeling sad: in many ways it really is the end of an era. [11]    

Notes

 

[1] Glitterbest - the Sex Pistols era management, publishing and production company founded by McLaren and his lawyer, Stephen Fisher, as co-director - went into receivership in February 1979, after Johnny Rotten successfully took legal action against the company.

[2] See 'Notes on Malcolm McLaren's Paris' (21 May 2020): click here. 

 

[3] See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, (Constable, 2020), p. 451.

      Whilst Gorman mentions that McLaren was trading from 25 Denmark Street as Moulin Rouge Ltd, he says nothing of Tour D'Eiffel Productions Ltd. It would be interesting to know which company was registered first and how they differed (if they differed at all).    

 

[4] Nick Egan is a visual design artist and film director who collaborated with McLaren on many projects during the period we are discussing here. Probably he came up with the letterhead designs shown here.        

 

[5] Carrolle was Malcolm's PA and office manager at 25 Denmark Street. We had corrresponded prior to this first meeting.

 

[6] The World's Famous Supreme Team was an American hip hop duo consisting of Sedivine the Mastermind and Just Allah the Superstar. They found international fame when McLaren enlisted them for his 1982 single 'Buffalo Gals' and then featured samples from their radio show on Duck Rock (1983).

 

[7] 'Zulus on a Time Bomb' was the B-side of McLaren's second single 'Soweto', released in February 1983 from the album Duck Rock (Charisma Records, 1983), written by Trevor Horn and Malcolm McLaren.

 

[8] Love Me Tender was Elvis's first film; dir. Robert D. Webb (1956), starring Richard Egan and Debra Paget. It was named after the smash hit single of the same title (which Presley performs in the film, along with three other songs). 

 

[9] Entry from the Von Hell Diaries dated Wednesday 30 March 1983. 

   

[10] Indeed, even McLaren's vision of Paris was one shaped by London. As he says in the song 'Walking with Satie': "I first saw Paris in Soho when I was thirteen". This track can be found on the 1994 album entitled Paris. 

      McLaren would also explain to Louise Neri that he was fascinated by the ways in which England influenced French culture and history. See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, p. 433. 

 

[11] Entry from the Von Hell Diaries dated Monday 13 May 1985.

 

 

I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know About Her: She Sherriff (the First Buffalo Gal)

Pip Gillard - aka She Sherriff (1981)

Photo by Janette Beckman / Getty Images

 

 

I. 

 

This year marks the 40th anniversary of the release of Malcolm McLaren's Buffalo Gals - a track which was as seminal for a generation of duck rockers and hip hoppers as Anarchy in the UK had been for the generation of punk rockers who preceded them.  

 

However, I'd like to speak here of someone who anticipates the era of scratchin' and square dancing and can justifiably lay claim to being the first buffalo gal: Pip Gillard, who some readers may vaguely (perhaps fondly) remember as She Sherriff ...

 

 

II. 

 

By the beginning of 1982, Malcolm was bored to death managing Bow Wow Wow: we might say that he didn't want Candy, but was, rather, nostalgic for mud; i.e. interested in down and dirty characters, rather than those who are so fine they can't be beat; hobos and hillbillies, rather than heroes and hearthrobs ...  

 

For McLaren, the term mud implied more than merely low-life experience or primitive culture. It was a glorious synonym for authenticity, something that he has always striven for in his work; the true look of music and the real sound of fashion. 

 

McLaren now located this authenticity in the folk music and folk dance of peoples around the word - particularly the sounds and rhythms that came out of Africa, a continent which he romanticised like many European artists before him, as a place of magical paganism and noble savagery. 

 

He identified something of the same jungle spirit in rock 'n' roll; at least in the very early days, before Elvis joined the US Army. And, more surprisingly perhaps, he was excited by what he discovered in them thar hills of the Appalachian Mountains, where people still danced barefoot to the sound of a fiddle and swigged moonshine straight from the jug.

 

If only, mused McLaren, he could find a new Skeeter Davis capable of singing country style with a pop sensibility ... And so, step forward Pip Gillard, who would be signed to Charisma Records [1] under the name of She Sherriff and release her first (and last) single on the label in 1982: a cover version of the country classic I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know (About Him).           

 

Unfortunately, McLaren's first attempt to produce a more authentic sound by reinventing "the big-selling but middle-aged country-and-western genre for a young audience" [2], was not a huge success. For despite "a great deal of media interest, promo photos by The Face photographer Janette Beckman and a Charisma-funded video, She Sherriff failed to deliver on the promise" [3].

 

The single didn't chart and She Sherriff was swiftly dropped by Charisma. If not exactly run out of town, then she was also relegated to that dark corner of popular music history reserved for those who don't even become one hit wonders [4].    

 

 

III. 

 

I suppose, looking back, the problem was not only a poor choice of song, but the fact that for all the stylishness of her proto-buffalo gal image and the mud applied to her limbs, Pip Gillard just didn't convince or really look the part; she was just too fresh-faced - or too pale-faced, if you like. 

 

And posing her with a rocking horse on the record sleeve - was that your idea Nick? - served only to reinforce the idea that this pretty young thing with a red ribbon in her hair would never be able to wrestle a steer, or ride a bucking bronco.     

 

 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Tony Stratton-Smith's small independent record label, Charisma, was founded in 1969 and became home to Genesis and other prog-rock favourites. In 1981, the managing director, Steve Weltman, newly arrived from RCA, was keen to shake things up and so signed McLaren to make his own album (for which he was given an initial advance of £45,000) and advise on new acts and musical trends in an unofficial capacity.

  

[2] Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren, (Constable, 2020), p. 503. 

 

[3] Ibid.

 

[4] Note that Pip Gillard did release another single - 'Why Can't You Love Me?' - under her own name, in 1984 on +1 Records. She has also released a track in Japan, as Pippa Gee, called 'Every Time You Touch Me' (Sony, 1983): click here. The Japanese version of this song - 'Suteki My Boy' - was used in a drink commercial.  

 

Play: She Sherriff, 'I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know About Him', (Charisma Records, 1982): click here. 

Play: Skeeter Davis, performing 'I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know' on the Pet Milk Grand Ole Opry Show in 1961: click here. This song, written by Cecil Null, had been a number 1 country hit for Skeeter and Betty Jack Davis (known as the Davis Sisters) in 1953.

For a related post to this one on Buffalo Gals, click here. 

 

And, finally, for a post in which I discuss another track from McLaren's Duck Rock album - 'Double Dutch' - from the inside perspective of someone who worked in the press office at Charisma Records at the time, click here.