The Sex Pistols were not punk, but they were rock & roll. They may have been among the first ones to do what they did, but they were certainly not the best. Johnny Rotten’s group and Malcolm McLaren’s idea, the Pistols were a tug of war. What hypocrisy, this faddish manipulation of the market wrapped as an anti-capitalist Statement.
Rock & roll is supposed to be dangerous and fun. It’s the sound of kids railing at the establishment. Appearing to spark a trend in confrontation, the Pistols were angry. They were good agents of theatre, too. Loud, brash, radical, vulgar — they captured a moment; but punk it was not.
For me punk is more than just keeping it simple or going against the grain. It’s about being true to yourself. D.I.Y. is beside the point. Originality is overrated. You don’t have to vie. You don’t even have to belong. You just are.
Bollocks is weak-kneed anarchy. On occasion the band swings, but there’s too much treble; the undercooking is cooked for effect. I miss the rawness, the full-bodied animus of their live act. As such, Julien Temple’s documentary, The Filth And The Fury (2000), is the best way to experience them.
So the band belongs to the England that sired them. History debunks and history wills out.
McLaren won.
Rating: C+
