| (What
time is it? It feels like five in the morning but it must be a lot later.
Ugh, Jesus, I must be inside my own mouth with the way I feel, and it's
wall to wall carpeting in there, I can tell you. And that sun is particularly
evil. Water, I've got to have a drop of water. Bleeech - it tastes like
silky sterilized milk and has been stirred up that lurking film of stale
lager at the back of my gums. This headache woke me up and right now
I'd sign anything so long as I could drift back to sleep. 'sno good,
I better get up 'fore I throw up. I wonder what time it is?
Lying on my back I breathe in real slow and out real fast, my eyes open
enough just to see the end of my nose and ration the light. A dozy yawn
pops the little muscles behind my ears and they crack like boots in
iced snow. From my knees to the upper chest my innards feel full of
warm goop, a sickly ocean of flat alcohol that is lapping in bigger
and bigger waves at the base of my throat. But I flatly refuse to go
through the big spit ceremony. The exertion would cause a blackout,
I know it. Leaning over on one tired elbow I chance a glance at the
usual wreckage of my bedroom floor.
Knackers. I must've knocked the cup of water over when I attempted to
put it down without visually coordinating the operation. It's seeping
on to the dusty cover of The Jacksons' 'Shake Your Body' 45, but right
now I couldn't give a toss. Know what I mean? Laboriously shifting my
stare a couple of feet, I spot the governor of my ailment, the Typhoid
Mary of the step-out set, gloating at my inevitable ruin.
It's a can of Red Stripe
lager and next to it is a half pint Dimple mug with an inch of headless
stagnant beer floating disarmed and dead at the bottom. Slowly my top
lip curls and my teeth clamp. Rolling over, flat out again, I expel
a tremendous sigh. "Aaaaoooorgghhhh...no, no, no...")
So what conclusions had I arrived at that made me dislike Public Image?
Well, on the strength of their debut LP I had them down as the premier
example of 'the King's new clothes' in action. A drab, overblown, directionless
slice of liberty-taking made possible by one band member's reputation.
I wriggled at the theories
and respect that album afforded. 'Turning Rock'n'Roll inside-out' was
a common claim on its behalf - while I would lash out on behalf of square
one commonsense, lumping it along with Siouxsie and the Banshees and
all the rest of the growing trend(y) babble for new music.
It galled me to watch people
vote for them and scramble for their product/gigs all before they proved
anything - a moronic 'name' acceptance that I thought Punk and the Sex
Pistols had quashed once and for all. Plus, all that talk about them
being difficult, moody and reclusive gave me the roaring hump and
I certainly wouldn't stoke some artists' indulgent egos by interpreting
all that as charisma. Sod'em, let'em get on with their own little games.
So, plomp, I get tossed into the silence breaker. Public Image will
speak to the NME, I hear floating round the office. And sure enough,
Virgin Records ring confirmation of this just one hour spare at the
end of the preceding working day to the interview. They rationalize
the shaky coordination with "we'd have given you more notice, but
you know what they're like..."
Fabulous! Can't wait! Armed with hints like "heavy guys" and
"watch out for Jah Wobble, he's a psycho who carried an axe about"
I begin winding myself up for the ruction. Rotten? Just a burned out
superstar. Wobble? The pubs are full of tooled-up geezers. Why, I could
write this thing before we meet. I'll give 'em 'product of your society'.
I'll give'em 'LP'. The way I was geared up it seemed the rest of the
globe thought 'grudge' was just something to park your car in. LEMEEAATT'EMMM!
I remember being in Hurrah's club in New York. Some band had just left
the stage after telling us how up the chute the rest of the galaxy was,
and from the selection of music the DJ played, I figured his IQ would
make a pit pony seem like president of The Brains Trust. Then, as one
po-faced strain faded, a devastating 'thump thump' of bass and drums
lifted the air to undeniably danceable heights. Like most of the evening's
fuel, this thump was British and something told me that this fearsome
stomp was part of my collection back home. But what was it? Under the
white lights I pulled one of my colleagues to the rim of the floor.
Faking as though disgusted with myself for not immediately recognizing
this gem, I bade him refresh my memory. "It's Public Image",
he bellowed to be heard, "it's 'Annalisa' from the album. Remember?
You sold it ages ago..." Flashing a pathetic phony "Did I?"
look, I felt too guilty to continue this twist. Lord, but it sounded
great, wild and proud. Too bad I didn't like them.
Bang on time the cab drew up outside Virgin HQ in Portobello Road, West
London. I knew they wouldn't be there yet - what with their public image
and all -, inside, one of the press people strode over. "Hi, if
you just hold on we'll get it together. They're all somewhere in the
building." I set up the cassette and prepared the preliminaries.
A couple of seconds later in strolled Keith Levene and new drummer Richard
Dudanski, followed by the chap who, for argument's sake, we'll just
call John. He spoke first.
"You're not what I expected", he offered in that flat patter,
and then, having checked my what I like to think of as dapper togs,
"Huh. I see they've kitted you out for the occasion." Perhaps
he expected a white suit and red shirt with Bee Gees badges. Anyway,
setting down a bulging carrier bag of cans of lager, John wearily plonks
himself behind a desk. Wobble, I learn, is on his way. Also present
is Jeanette [Lee] who along with the mysterious Dave [Crowe] comprise
the PIL outfit. Despite all, this boy looks at Johnny and respects him
a lot. But now to business.
IT SEEMS YOU'VE BEEN MYSTERIOUSLY QUIET, WHAT'S BEEN DOING?
LEVENE: "Well, we've been living at the studio, really."
LYDON: "Just because we're not full of publicity don't mean we're
not alive."
LEVENE: "We're doing the second album and things. Hopefully it
can be out around the end of July, and the single will be at the end
of June. If we had it our way we would put out lots of singles."
BUT IT'S YOUR CONTRACT, RIGHT?
LEVENE: "Mainly."
WERE YOU DISAPPOINTED AT THE REACTION OF THE LP?
LYDON: "Not really. It takes time and people are stupid."
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, PEOPLE ARE STUPID?
LYDON: "I mean journalists are stupid."
Here we go. We're both starting to fall into character. The fur rises
on the back of my neck and we lock.
IS THAT WHAT ALL JOURNALISTS ARE?
LYDON: "I think they're creepy, spineless parasites."
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
LYDON: "Name me one that has got integrity?"
(calmly) I HAVE.
LYDON: "Well, show me your work and I'll tell you."
YEAH, BUT I DON'T NEED YOU TO.
LYDON: "So prove me wrong."
Surprisingly, the awful sterile plastic tension that being thrown into
a room to talk to strangers obviously produces is lessened by this early
clash. The old bastard is just putting out feelers, and he knows it.
He's best at handling a feedback of hatred, probably enjoys it, and
is renowned for winding up wallies.
YOU DON'T OFTEN DO THIS KIND OF THING, WITH VIRGIN AS MIDDLE MAN, SO
HOW COME YOU'RE ALL IN LINE TODAY?
LYDON: "When they said it was you we thought 'here comes a slagging',
and that's why we did it."
LEVENE: "We don't deal with Virgin unless we have to. They contact
us and we say yes or no. Not many bands have much say in it. It's all
arranged by managers or producers, and they jump to it... makes me ill."
LYDON: "You're speeding."
He's wrong, I always talk like a fan-belt.
HAVE YOU ANY RESPECT FOR, EXCUSE ME, JOE PUBLIC?
LYDON (now loosening a little): "Total respect for
Joe..."
LEVENE: "Joe Public, yeah. Groups, no. I hate people who like to
think that they're not Joe Public, think they're someone special. It's
like he said when he was in the Pistols. The worst people are the star
trippers, and we meet them all the time. Well, we're certainly no elite
or any of that bollocks."
DO YOU GO OUT MUCH?
(general grimacing)
TO GIGS I MEAN.
LYDON: "Why? What for?"
LEVENE: "People seem to have more money than sense at the moment."
LYDON: "I've said it before, I'll say it again. Rock'n'Roll is
stone dead. It's had it. How much more twelve bar dun-der-dun can you
jumble up? But it won't change until a few more people stop patronizing
it."
ARE THERE ANY ROCK BANDS YOU LIKE?
LYDON (pauses): "Nope."
WELL, DO YOU RECKON JUST ROCK IS DEAD OR ALL POPULAR MUSIC?
LYDON: "Oh no, only Rock. I still love Reggae and I quite like
a lot of disco music. I mean you can dance to those, right? That's
the most essential thing about us - you can dance to us."
I SAW YOU AT THE 'ZIGZAG' DO THE OTHER NIGHT [1], WATCHING DOLL BY DOLL
SMASH UP THAT GUITAR.
LYDON: "Weren't they dreadful? That's what I mean. I was there
to see The Psychedelic Furs, who didn't show up."
LEVENE: "You couldn't smash one of my guitars up. They're solid
metal. Mainly for smashing up bouncers at the Rainbow. You should underline
that - I hate bouncers! And I hate being led to my seat by a
torch, real police state stuff, know what I mean?"
LYDON (indignant): "Here, how come when we played
the Rainbow nobody mentions that we take out all the seats?"
LEVENE: "Somebody like Jimmy Pursey could get great use of that.
I hate Jimmy Pursey. You can underline that a million times."
LYDON: "I certainly don't have to perform at being working class.
There's so much made of it, as if the more dumb you are the more glorious
you become. That's why Pursey is so well-liked, because he plays his
role for everyone. It's so easy to manipulate, it fits into a nice little
clichéd bracket - no threat. It's once you break that apart you
become a worry to them."
AREN'T YOU A SYMBOL OF THE WORKING CLASS, JOHN?
LYDON: "What! Symbol of the working... Sex symbol!" (laughs)
It was about here that the day began. On my tape we all began to rabbit
about trivia. I realized that it wasn't PIL that I disliked but the
awful pseudo types who had championed them. A brand of characters the
group has long been wary of. I was asked what I thought of the album
('First Issue') and I told them
I didn't like it.
LYDON: "Well, that's all you need. That's all you need to say."
I ask again how they'd reacted to its feedback. And this time:
LYDON: "There can be no argument as to what it's about, because
every track is so very obvious. That was the biggest criticism of 'Religion',
that it was so obvious. Well, I'm ever so sorry, but I've always been
totally obvious and you'll have to excuse me for not being an intellectual,
I'm afraid. Being obvious is a thing that everyone wants to avoid like
the plague, it seems. Look at someone like Bob Dylan.
I can't be any other way and could never be. It was always other people
who mistook it for a sign of intellect. Ha ha!"
BUT WHAT'S ALL THIS REPUTATION ABOUT BEING MOODY?
LYDON: "Oh, that's true. But a lot of the time it's just wanting
privacy. Privacy is essential, and if that causes me to look like an
upstart then yeah, I'm an upstart. I mean, we go boozing in a pub like
everyone else, I want to do it happily and not be pestered. I hate signing
autographs, that's embarrassing. Then there's the physical pestering,
which ain't that pleasant."
LEVENE: "Which is why we're all trained in Kung Fu."
Y'WHAT?
LEVENE: "Yeah, it's standard in this band. Y'have to be."
LYDON: "Like me in the last lot (Pistols), all that sort of political
manipulation. Well, no more. From now on if I get hurt it's because
of a situation I've created, and not some pseudo arsehole sitting in
an office somewhere."
DO YOU GET ON WITH EACH OTHER?
LYDON: "You should've been there last night! (laughter)
In that way we're just as fucked up as everyone else. In all ways we're
just as fucked up as everyone else. We have had bad fights that maybe
shouldn't go on, but do. You've not met Dave [Crowe]. He's a most unpleasant
chap."
HOW DO YOU HANDLE THE RECORD COMPANY?
LYDON: "Well, obviously you need them to get the stuff released,
and okay, so the bigger the company the bigger the problems, but also
the wider the outlet. That's only sensible. Wide distribution of your
product."
Does that sound cold? Does it sound unforgivable from your favourite
action man. Listen, John Lydon has been there. He knows what it's worth
to mouth off your favourite rebel slogans. He knows that if you want
someone to play pretend at ripping up the nation there are a hundred
pisspot outfits only too willing to let you hear what you wanna hear,
while keeping both eyes on the company reaction.
Lenny Bruce once did a bit about a police commissioner who publicly
reprimanded for his force of brutality - and once the cameras had gone
told them: "Listen you guys, I'm sorry if I got a bit shitty with
ya there, but understand it keeps everybody happy. I'll say a whole
lot of things, but you know it's bullshit, so as long as you keep kickin'
them in the ass and doin' what you're paid for we're all happy, okay?"
That's how rock rebellion will wind up. John Lydon went through his
rebel phase under the microscope and in double-quick time. He's made
his mistakes and had his laughs, and this time he knows the score
even if we don't recognize the character. That's what irks most of his
critics - they can't identify.
Back at Virgin Records, half past five had rolled around, so had Wobble
and we crossed to the pub.
(I can't hear anything, it must still be early. A mammoth effort and
I'm sitting up. God, is anyone dead in this wreck. No wonder I found
a welcome in Johnny Rotten's eyes. There was a sty in one of them, too.
I pull the top sheet around my shoulders and in one swift movement both
feet are on the floor, straight in the wet. Up. Head still weighty and
wavy I cakewalk over the assault course of record sleeves, beer cans,
shoes and junk. Focussing on nothing and chattering like a channel swimmer
though it's not cold,
I make my way down the hall and push open the living room door. The
leaden stale perfume of cigars, beer and sleep is into my nostrils like
drowning in sand. On the floor a contoured blanket gives way to a sprouting
of brown/black hair at the very top. On the settee a similar sheet covers
all but a crossed pair of feet. Nothing stirs. It's a quarter to twelve!
Here, I remember one of the neighbours knocking at one time last night...)
In the pub, that bolts having just been slid off, we are four. John
Lydon, who has changed little since his last NME feature, drummer Richard
Dudanski with his suit, pound-note voice and crop that'd cause havoc
in a bowling alley, and the famed man of fireman habits, Wobble. Keith
Levene is of slight build, a bit like Billy Casper in 'Kes', but Wobble
is more demanding. His thrusting East End patter is the spearpoint to
a forceful, though amiable, onslaught. Not a big bloke, but you wouldn't
take liberties. He's the most open member, a pox on the fright mongers.
On the second round, another leg of the interview begins.
LYDON: "I want people to understand that we're a band, right, and
the enigma of my past keeps creeping in all the time, and it's hard
for them to have to keep accepting that. (adopts Alan Whicker
voice) How does it feel to be Rotten? Y'know?"
BUT INEVITABLY, HOW DID YOU REACT WHEN SID VICIOUS DIED?
LYDON: "I was fucking annoyed. I'd seen the way his old dear and
Malcolm carved him up, er, that whole scene whereby they got him out
of prison to record a few tracks. He had no fucking hope. Now
I was willing to get a lawyer and go over to New York and sort his problem
out, but Sid's old dear wouldn't talk to me cos Malcolm had told her
not to, and it went on like that. Now, I've known Sid's old dear as
long as I've known Sid, but when she came over here - y'now for those
benefits [2] - I wasn't even asked. I didn't even know she was in the
country. It wasn't a shock when he was killed, and I know
who I blame though I'm not gonna be stupid as to say it. But it was
pretty obvious he was given a hot shot. Is that what they call it when
they lace it with everything from arsenic to boot polish? He was a fool.
Fell for it."
HOW DOES IT FEEL TO WALK PAST SHOPS AND SEE 'SID THE HERO' INDUSTRY?
LYDON: "Honestly, I know damn well he'd feel as sick as I feel
about it, that... bullshit. Look, you have to look at the public who
buy all that junk. There's your animals, your jungle. They say blame
the makers, but they created the buying market, they must create a demand
for it all."
IT MUST GET RIGHT UP YOUR BACK WHEN YOU SEE, AS FAR AS THE UMPTEEN PER
CENT OF THE POPULATION IS CONCERNED, YOU ARE STILL THE FIGUREHEAD OF
THE 'SID IS DEAD'
T-SHIRT BRIGADE.
LYDON: "Right, even though Malcolm's doing his best to stop that!
I proved to be an embarrassment to Malcolm, cos I stopped his, er, commercial
gamblings. That's why I had to go. That's why I had to be replaced."
WHAT'S THE FEELING BETWEEN YOU NOW?
LYDON: "Between Malcolm and me? Let's just say that if Malcolm
breathes it's too much for me to stomach. Let's just say that."
DOES IT INTERFERE WITH THE BAND NOW?
LYDON: "Well, it's boring, it is the past. You don't have to relive
your schooldays everyday, do you? And to me now it's just redundant
shite. I don't need it."
DO YOU FEEL ANY AFFECTION FOR THOSE DAYS?
LYDON: "I feel very proud of myself for having escaped. And I feel
very sorry for Paul and Steve who still haven't got two 'appence worth
of sense to knock the two of them. The only other thing is that I hate
having all my quotes held against me, and it turns out that most of
'em were someone else's anyway. All the better ones get attributed to
someone else. The bands only future was it's demise - now there's a
quote! If I'd got my way all that 'it's gotta be rock, man' attitude
would've gone and it would've been more like this band."
HAVE YOU SORTED OUT YOUR DRUMMING THINGS NOW?
DUDANSKI: "Keith just rang me up and said, y'know... anyway, on
the first meeting with them I had my drum kit nicked from out the car."
LYDON: "He was just desperately short of money to buy a wig or
something."
DUDANSKI: "Before that I was in a band called Bank Of Dresden [3],
and before that I was in The 101ers."
HOW HAVE YOU ADJUSTED TO STARDOM, WOBBLE?
WOBBLE: "Whatcha talkin' about. I've always been a star! Always.
They've always torn my clothes off in the street. No, I can't stand
it, tell the truth. I tell ya, all that punk achieved was a load of
crap. I still get people coming up to me and ask if I'm really Jah Wobble!
They must've missed the whole point really. Especially since a lot of
the time they only do it to get near John, y'know?"
HAVE YOU ALWAYS PLAYED BASS?
WOBBLE: "I'm just a natural musician, really. I just have to pick
something up and I can play it. Honestly."
LYDON: "I think I'm gonna be sick."
WOBBLE: "Leave it out, John, I can play loads o'stuff, you know
that."
Wobble turns out to be a diamond. He's quick, self-deflating and honest.
I ask John what he finds to write about. He answers in an L.A. whine.
LYDON: "Well, man, y'know, houses in the country, my E-type Jag,
stuff like that."
The new Public Image single will be 'Death Disco', and not, as somewhat
hopefully reported in another paper, 'Death to Disco'. In fact Wobble
believes disco music to be the closest sound to what PIL are doing.
Certainly, and believe me, I'd have no bones about stating otherwise
were it the case, 'Death Disco' has one of the most powerful backlines
to be heard this side of Chic. It fair knifes along, with John howling
"Seeing through my eeyyyyyeeessss" over the whole ferocious
affair. The reverse features the following lyric: "This could
be heaven / Shallow spreads of ordered lawns / I like the illusion of
privacy / The careful trees blending so perfectly / Bland planned idle
luxury / A caviar of silent dignity".
So distorted and bent do those words become that I got lost a dozen
times trying to follow it all.
WOBBLE: "See, the way we work is all done on the spot. It takes
time, but sooner or later we'll all agree on some bass line or other
and just work over and around it. I love that bass sound you get when
it just becomes too much to hear and you can actually feel it in your
bones. I love mixing stuff around. I must have about 50 different mixes
of 'Fodderstompf' at home."
Wobble, 20, still lives with his parents in Whitechapel, East London,
until somewhere as good can be sorted out.
LYDON: "If we get what sounds like the right pattern, we won't
stop and jot it down or discuss it or write poetry around it, we'll
just get on and keep working it out until we know it's the one."
WOBBLE: "Something like 'Fodderstompf', well, you can hear the
words are just on the spot, all that about going for a cigarette and
that. The main bit about 'we only wanted to be loved' was... well, we
sort of guessed the reaction to the LP and thought that statement would
be a liberty, I s'pose. Alright, so you can say it's indulgent and all
that, but you can dance to it and realize how funny that song is. Because
it is funny, and not heavy like people said. It don't have to be so
straight faced, does it?"
LYDON: "We did stress that the LP would be a little different.
(laughs) Even though a load of people that bought it did so because
of the, uh, Seks Piztolz. Well, so they won't check us out again, because
it wasn't because of our publicity that they may have been hoodwinked.
We don't do that. There again, if anyone thinks the second album will
be 'Album One, part two', well they're mugs again. We don't do that
either. We could sell millions I'm sure. If we packaged ourselves right,
we'd be rolling in it. I'll tell you something. On that first single
it was promoted with 2000 of our own money and four of Virgin's. Yet
look at the good old Ronald Biggs fiasco. There was 25 grand to blow
on that. That's how it operates, how anything operates. It will do so
long as people buy records because of a cardboard cut-out in the corner."
BUT YOU'VE DONE 'TOP OF THE POPS'. ISN'T THAT A BIT OF A CUT-OUT IN
THE CORNER?
LYDON: "Well, originally I had these ever so grand ideas about
'Oh, we won't go on there, let's do our own video', ha ha ha, real smartarse.
But when you get the bill for doing that, that's when you discover that
the show ain't so bad at all. Those kids who watch it, I mean, they
couldn't care less if you're on video or in the studio, so there's no
point in getting all smart."
YOU HAD AN INCIDENT WHEN YOU PULLED OUT OF MICKIE MOST'S 'REVOLVER'
SHOW, RIGHT?
LYDON: "We just decided that we were being set up. So we set ourselves
up a little holiday on the day of recording, that's all."
ISN'T THERE ANYONE WHO SCREAMS AT YOU DOWN THE PHONE?
LYDON: "We just don't answer our phone! I remember Most said that
we were finished as far as TV was concerned, but we were on 'Top Of
The Pops' the next week. And then on 'Saturday Night People' the following
week."
DO YOU STILL WATCH AS MUCH TV AS IS RUMOURED?
LYDON: "Oh, I love it. I'm absolutely addicted to it. Everything.
If we ever go, like, to America, with its 24 hours a day, that'll be
me finished. Just senility."
WOBBLE: "The best programme has gotta be 'The Cedar Tree'. The
war'll start in that show one day, it's been rumoured for years."
LYDON: "Yeah, 'tis good. Here, did you see that programme about
soccer hooliganism? [4] What a fucking show that was. You had Alan Hardaker,
the President of the FA or whatever he is, and he's on there saying
how pleased he is that the violence is on the terraces, because he'd
rather it there than outside Buckingham Palace. He actually said he
was glad to let it go on there! I tell ya, it don't matter what colour
you dye your hair and how good your leather jacket, nothing terrorizes
this country like football fans. That's your anarchy. Was you around
when the Scots fans were down here? [5] They were given the city, old
bill stood aside. Jesus."
Let it ne noted that John 'The Filth and The Fury' Rotten is a fanatic
for, bejazuz, The Arsenal.
WOBBLE: "Talkin' about that football programme, we was on it. Just
briefly they had a shot of the crowd comin' out of a Chelsea-Arsenal
match, and we was in it, straight up."
There then followed a lengthy gasbag on our national pastime until,
touching on US football, I wondered whether Public Image ever craved
Stateside success.
LEVENE: "We're not The Clash."
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