No Future: The Sex Pistols’ ‘Never Mind The Bollocks’

With the Sex Pistols’ classic album ‘Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols’ about to get a wide-ranging reissue, we’ve gone back over our original 2009 feature to present a more extensive look at the record and the Seventies punk scene as a whole, complete with very rare photographs which are set to feature in the super deluxe box-set edition of the re-release.

Slumped on a stage in San Francisco, riddled with ‘Flu and disillusioned with the world, Johnny Rotten asked a simple question which would go down in history: “Ever feel like you’ve been cheated?”

It was January 1978, and in typically pithy fashion the best frontman of his generation abruptly walked out on a disastrous US tour and, more significantly, his fellow Sex Pistols bandmates.

John Lydon‘s journey from the streets of London to the Winterland Ballroom that night had begun barely three years earlier when Malcolm McLaren, on the lookout for a singer to front the band he had been managing since 1974, spotted a young man sauntering past his fashion shop in South-west London wearing a t-shirt that declared ‘I Hate Pink Floyd’.

The otherwise unassuming, stick-thin figure was quickly invited for rehearsals, and it was later that evening when John Lydon, then nineteen, first met guitarist Steve Jones, drummer Paul Cook and bass player Glen Matlock, members of a band who had previously been known as The Strand, but who had recently changed their name to QT Jones and the Sex Pistols.

Lydon’s rehearsal was allegedly met with fits of laughter by the trio, but impressed by his attitude and natural showmanship, McLaren persuaded his charges to persevere with Lydon, thus bringing to an end their long search for a vocalist.

In the new-found position Lydon – or Rotten as Steve Jones christened him – began to blossom, it soon becoming clear that he was a teenager with plenty to say for himself. A songwriting partnership began to emerge with Glen Matlock, and with a small selection of original material under the now shortened banner of the Sex Pistols, the quartet played their first gig at St. Martins College, where Matlock was a student.

Despite being a penniless new band, the Pistols would often enjoy the use of expensive instruments and amps far beyond their financial reach during these early adventures – thanks largely to Steve Jones’ wandering hands, which even allegedly stole equipment from under the noses of David Bowie‘s crew during his ‘Farewell Ziggy’ concert at the Hammersmith Odeon.

As the Sex Pistols began to become a fixture on the live circuit in London during the first part of 1976, the seeds of a revolutionary sub-culture were already being sown. Tired of the overblown prog which dominated the era, and guided by a flourishing pub rock scene in the city led by the likes of Dr. Feelgood, a new generation was increasingly looking back to the birth of rock n roll to fuel its own fledgling movement. The short, sharp rock classics of the 1950s were a stark reminder of the urgency and power at the heart of rock, and became the template for what in a few months time would be widely recognised as Punk.

In the June of that year, at the invite of the Buzzcocks, the Sex Pistols travelled north to Manchester for the first time. Performing to a half-empty room at the Lesser Free Trade Hall, they introduced punk to the city, and showed the small audience – which included Bernard Sumner, Ian Curtis, Tony Wilson and Morrissey – where their futures were headed. Before a single track had even been committed to vinyl, the Sex Pistols were already re-shaping the destiny of guitar music for years to come.

The band began work on their debut album in October 1976, armed with a new record deal courtesy of EMI. However, it was later sessions with producer Chris Thomas between March and June 1977, and a subsequent period at Wessex Studios in August 1977, that would make up the bulk of the resulting LP. It was also in October ’76 when The Damned, who had played their first gig opening for the Pistols the previous summer, released the instant classic 7″ ‘New Rose‘. Just over a month later, ‘Anarchy In The UK‘ became the Sex Pistols’ own debut single. Punk had arrived.

As 1976 drew to a close, the Sex Pistols were asked to be the late replacements for Queen on Bill Grundy’s Today series. Within 24 hours, punk was the talk of the nation. Their infamous antics on the programme, led by an intoxicated Steve Jones clearly being goaded by his host, caused a public outrage which the media were only too happy to fuel.

At the time, the Pistols were out on the Anarchy Tour with The Clash, and immediately found their gigs being subjected to protests and boycotts as the fall out from the Bill Grundy interview reached fever pitch. Many gigs were cancelled, and less than two months after their first TV appearance they were dropped by EMI in late January 1977.

As recording sessions were due to restart with Chris Thomas, Glen Matlock left the band following a Dutch gig in February ’77. Many opposing reasons are given for the departure, with both Matlock and Lydon often blaming their manager Malcom McLaren for stirring up arguments between the pair, while McLaren himself used to insist Matlock was simply ‘too nice’ for the band.

A simple clash of personalities between the bassist and his three bandmates, often highlighted by Steve Jones, was undoubtedly another contributing factor, but whatever the reasons, the Sex Pistols would never be the same again.

The decision to sack their original member and appoint Sid Vicious – a friend of John Lydon and regular on the London punk scene – in his place marks the beginning of the end for the story.

While Matlock’s slightly calmer personality may have clashed day-to-day with the rest of the group, there is no doubting his creative input helped to marshal the chaos into a viable musical entity. After joining in 1974 on the behest of Malcolm McLaren, he helped to improve Steve Jones’ guitar playing and gave the band a focus and sense of genuine musicianship that was sorely needed.

His ear for melody, borne out of a love for The Beatles and their ilk (another source of friction within the group), when combined with Lydon’s acerbic lyrical tongue helped to sculpt the soon-to-be defining anthems which the Pistols took with them into the studio in his absence a few months later.

By contrast, while Matlock’s replacement epitomised what punk had become by 1977, Sid Vicious was unable to play a single note on the bass, and his arrival symbolised a permanent shift away from music to mere hype and notoriety which would be impossible to sustain.

On one of his first commitments as a Sex Pistol, Sid found himself at the gates of Buckingham Palace as the group very publicly signed their second record deal, this time with A&M. Five days later, following several run-ins with the label, they were dropped and homeless once more.

After Matlock’s departure, sessions essentially re-started with the band as a 3-piece, doing their best to keep Sid Vicious away from the studio. According to Steve Jones: “Sid wanted to come down and play on the album, and we tried as hard as possible not to let him anywhere near the studio. Luckily he had hepatitis at the time.”

It is claimed by some that after his sacking, the former bass player was invited to help out during the recording of the album in a new role as a session musician, although how much Matlock actually played on the album, and whether he was present in the studio at all, is a much disputed subject.

Some, including John Lydon, insist he played many parts on the record, while others attest to almost all the bass parts being laid down by Steve Jones. What is generally agreed is that Sid Vicious played on just one track, ‘Bodies’, although Steve Jones is skeptical as to how prominent his bass is on the track. “He played his farty old bass part and we just let him do it,” he has said. “When he left I dubbed another part on, leaving Sid’s down low. I think it might be barely audible on the track.”

In the studio Chris Thomas, with a background in the far more textured, layered brand of music being poured out by bands such as Pink Floyd, Roxy Music and Procul Harum, had managed to make sense of the Sex Pistols, and in doing so produced an album that displayed a tight musicianship which bared little resemblance to their increasingly shambolic live shows. The real achievement for Thomas was to lose not an ounce of the band’s raw passion while in the confines of the studio despite this altered, more professional approach.

The second single, ‘God Save The Queen‘, was issued in May ’77. Released as the rest of the country prepared to mark Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee, the track’s provocative lyrics – a stunning body of work from John Lydon painting an alternative picture of the UK as one with ‘no future’ and being led by a ‘fascist regime’, confirmed the Sex Pistols as middle England’s Public Enemy Number One – a title Malcolm McLaren was becoming increasingly preoccupied by.

On the official jubilee holiday, McLaren booked his charges on a boat named The Queen Elizabeth on the Thames, a move resented as much by the band as the authorities, and made purely to keep them in the papers and the minds of the population at a time of nationwide celebration. For various reasons, ‘God Save The Queen’ remains the seminal punk single, and the movement’s only UK Number One – even if the authorities refused to recognise it.

As well as the legendary singles, of which ‘Pretty Vacant‘ would come to the party in July, ‘Never Mind The Bollocks…Here’s The Sex Pistols‘ contains tracks which paid attention to some of the most controversial topics of the time, and which demonstrated John Lydon’s sharp eye for political and social commentary.

‘Bodies‘ deals with illegal abortion, laden with expletives and graphically telling the story of scandal in a mental institution, while ‘E.M.I’ is a scathing attack on the record company which had dropped them at the beginning of 1977 whilst retaining a simple, sing-a-long quality that makes it one of the LP’s most memorable tracks.

Opener ‘Holidays In The Sun’, one of the few tracks on the album not credited to Glen Matlock and now given a long-delayed official video, was the final single released and deals with the Berlin Wall and communism. “Being in London at the time made us feel like we were trapped in a prison camp environment,” John Lydon has said on the inspiration behind the song.

“There was hatred and constant threat of violence. The best thing we could do was to go set up in a prison camp somewhere else. Berlin and its decadence was a good idea. The song came about from that. I loved Berlin. I loved the wall and the insanity of the place. The communists looked in on the circus atmosphere of West Berlin, which never went to sleep, and that would be their impression of the West.”

With an album completed but no label to release it on, budding London entrepreneur Richard Branson was the knight in shining armour when he invited the Pistols onto Virgin and soon found the record itself being quickly made the subject of a legal challenge.

The ‘obscene’ title, challenged legally under the Town Police Clauses Act, brought ‘Never Mind The Bollocks…’ to Nottingham Magistrates’ Court on 24th November 1977. For once the system was defeated, with barrister John Mortimer successfully arguing that ‘bollocks’ was merely an Old English term that had been used in various contexts for centuries. The chairman of the hearing concluded: “Much as my colleagues and I wholeheartedly deplore the vulgar exploitation of the worst instincts of human nature for the purchases of commercial profits by both you and your company, we must reluctantly find you not guilty of each of the four charges.”

Against all the odds, the album finally hit the shelves in October 1977, almost exactly a year on from ‘New Rose’, and was a genuine hit. After line-up changes, label fall-outs, media outrage, public hatred and prolonged recording sessions, the Sex Pistols finally had a viable body of work to cement their legacy.

However, the burn-out was fast approaching; what should have been a triumphant trip across the UK in December 1977 was hit by more cancelled shows, while a Christmas Day benefit performance in Yorkshire would prove to be their last on British soil.

By the time they left for the US in early 1978, the group was on the verge of splitting. The tour was constantly interrupted by Sid Vicious’ ever increasing drug problems, and with John Lydon close to breaking point due to issues with his bandmates, manager and the nature of  the tour itself, he eventually broke that January evening in San Francisco.

Within a couple of days, Lydon had officially left the Sex Pistols and, despite Paul Cook and Steve Jones persevering on and subsequently recording some direction-less new material, the band had effectively finished, only three short months after the release of ‘Never Mind The Bollocks…‘.

They were active as a band for just 26 months, but in that time the Sex Pistols had delivered an album whose legacy is still being felt today, and which sees them now widely considered as the most influential British band since The Beatles.

Less a debut album, more the crowning, final achievement of a youth movement which in the blink of an eye had changed Britain forever.

(Dave Smith)