| DENVER,
COLO. -- Even in a season defined by its perverse lack of an overriding
musical direction, the last two people on Earth whom you'd expect to have
anything to do with each other are Gene Simmons and Johnny Rotten / Lydon,
the respective front men of the summer's two most talked-about reunions.
Yet, here's the head Sex Pistol ('that's SIR Johnny Rotten to you,' the
inveterate monarchy-basher jokes when we're introduced) saying he not
only likes the KISS leader, but actually partied with him recently in
L.A. -- at a gay club called Rage.
And what exactly was Simmons, the official poster boy for gaudy heterosexuality,
doing in a gay club?
'He was tickling my fancy,' jokes Lydon, pacing restlessly around a hotel
room the day after the opening date of the band's North American tour.
('Tickling his FANNY, more like it,' guitarist Steve Jones chimes in from
across the room.)
It's hard to imagine Johnny Lydon and Gene Simmons being in the same ROOM
together, let alone the same conversation.
'I'm not a snob,' says Lydon, making it clear that he detests KISS's music.
'What people do musically is up to them. I can still deal with them on
a one-to-one basis.
'I mean, I hate Pink Floyd, but I really get on well with Dave Gilmour.'
(Ironically, Lydon got his first audition with the Pistols back in 1975
after future Clash manager Bernie Rhodes spotted him strolling down King's
Road sporting an 'I hate Pink Floyd' T-shirt.)
'(Gilmour) is an adult, and he's able to cope with that. When people CAN'T
cope with that,' he adds, staring pointedly at me, 'you know that deep
down inside that they know there's something wrong about what they do.'
Now, as anyone who's read any of Lydon's blow-hard pronouncements over
the years already knows, this charming 'I'm OK, you're a jerk' routine
is a staple part of his act. He glares, he insults, he verbally abuses
and, if you betray the slightest sign of weakness, he moves in for the
kill.
On the other hand, if you take it for the essentially good-natured, albeit
twisted, game that it is, you're pretty much guaranteed an entertaining
ride.
Herewith, then, some choice exchanges with Sir Johnny Rotten:
jam!: Do you think it's strange that North American audiences, some of
whom weren't even born when the Pistols broke up, seem to break into fist-waving
when you play God Save The Queen?
Lydon: At least these kids are trying to make an effort to stand out.
that's a lot better than buying Boyz II Men records, isn't it? Or blankly
staring at MTV.
jam!: Is it? Boyz II Men are good singers.
Lydon: Of course it's better! All that stuff is fodder for the masses.
It has no content, no relevance. There lies the difference. The next step
is what they TAKE from that and how they progress with that. But it's
not for me to tell anyone how to do anything. I'm not responsible. I've
done my bit, that's it, each to his own.
Jam!: Okay, but don't you find it odd that last night's crowd, who probably
don't know anything about the Queen, obviously got off on that particular
song?
Lydon: Yeah, but I think they probably relate the Queen to (Bill) Clinton
or something similar. It's authority-busting, that's what that song is
about. It's not exactly a personal attack on the Queen, but that INSTITUTION,
and the monopoly it holds on people's lives.
Jam!: I was surprised at how young the audience was last night. It was
like being at a Green Day show.
Lydon: I don't think it was a Green Day crowd at all. A Green Day crowd
are kind of shabby looking. These kids were very young, but they weren't
shabby and tattered looking. They were really quite firm and plump of
breast.
Jam!: You've always railed against conformity and for individuality. That's
kind of been your whole thing. But don't you think there's a difference
between feeling part of a community and blindly joining a mass movement?
Lydon: It's not a mass movement. There's nothing wrong with feeling part
of the human race and enjoying the idea that things could actually be
changed for the better. Nothing wrong with that at all. That doesn't destroy
your sense of individuality. That doesn't make you bleat like a sheep
amongst the flock.
Jam!: But if somebody bought into the current punk movement ...
Lydon: I think that's really silly. Bands like Rancid, they amuse me greatly.
They've got it all wrong. They think it's all about the clothes. There's
no content there. Look, I can't be everything for everyone all the time.
I can only tell you how I live my life, and you do what you want with
yours. There's no great fascist dictatorship going on here. If people
want to feel part of something, that's up to them. And me, myself and
I have not really felt part of anything, ever.
Jam!: But don't you think ...
Lydon: Methinks you think too much. Why can't you just enjoy or not enjoy?
Take things as they are. This is the trouble with journalists. You all
think of yourselves as being intelligent, but actually you're not. You're
quite stupid.
Jam!: You think it's possible that an entire group of people can all be
stupid?
Lydon: You miss the basic principle of life. Where's your instinct gone?
It's a stupid career move, period. Talking about other people's efforts
in a belligerent tone is not pleasing.
Jam!: You think this is belligerent? I'm not being belligerent.
Lydon (smiling): You will be.
At this point, as is his wont, Lydon makes one of several increasingly
theatrical exits -- only to reappear 20 seconds later.
Jam!: You've said the Pistols are every bit as relevant now as they were
20 years ago, maybe even more so. If that's the case, why don't you have
any new songs?
Lydon: I do, it's called Public Image Limited, and solo projects, and
Steve (Jones) has his other stuff (a new band, the Neurotic Outsiders,
whose album comes out Sept. 10), we all have our own stuff. I don't really
want to do (new Sex Pistols songs). And there's not bloody time. You should
see our schedule, it's non-stop. If we write while we're on tour, that's
all well and fine. But no organised, between the hours of three and six
we will write a song. That would be bullshit.
Jam!: Do you think it's possible the Pistols will still be around in the
year 2000?
Lydon: Don't know, don't care. That's of no relevance to me right now.
I can't predict the future. Who knows, I might look really great in a
wheelchair.
Jam!: You've said to anyone who sneers at the Pistols reunion that, if
they don't like, then don't come to the shows. But it's not that simple.
There are a lot of people in the middle, people who had their lives changed
by Never Mind The Bollocks and bring a great deal of emotional baggage
to your shows.
Lydon: I'm not God. I can't do any more than I do, and if by example you
can learn from me, then that's well and fine. You might choose to just
ignore everything I do. (The thought had occurred to me.) That's well
and fine also. That's the line, there, clearly drawn by me. I don't step
into other people's shoes and tell them what's right for them.
Jam! (becoming slightly belligerent): But that doesn't change the fact
that people coming to a Pistols show in 1996 expect something more than
just an entertaining rock 'n' roll band.
Lydon: What's that have to do with me? What would you like me to do with
that? Would you like a big sign outside the auditorium: please leave personal
baggage at home. Those kind of people don't matter, because they're so
clogged up with this festering nonsense in their head, they can't see
things clearly. I have no time for stupidity. Life's really simple, it
isn't difficult. I know that. I'm the living proof of it. I deal with
very complicated situations, and I go straight to the core and point out
what is wrong. The end. Why can't you do the same?
Steve Jones (rolling his eyes and breaking into mock applause): More!
More! Oh he's good. He's good.
(Sir Johnny exits again. And comes back again.)
Jam!: Are you going to add in the cover of (Count Five's) Psychotic Reaction
when you play in Canada?
Lydon: At some point, yeah. If we had done that last night, I would've
died, because there was no oxygen in that air. (Denver is a mile above
sea level.) But the way we do it, believe me, you would not recognise
it. We also have great fun with Roadrunner, the old Jonathan Richman song.
I actually rang him up in L.A. and asked him what the real words were,
because I never knew them. He said, 'Well there aren't any real words.
I just make them up every time.' With Public Image, I've been doing that
kind of live improvising for years, and I really enjoy it. Public Image
is closer to jazz than anything else. Which is odd, because I hate jazz.
But the ATTITUDE of jazz I like. I can't bear all those saxophone and
trumpet-blowers, they drive me insane.
Jam!: Public Image is more like free-form jazz.
Lydon: Yeah, but it has to have a basic structure. That's why I like Middle
Eastern music. There's a beginning and an end, and what we do in the middle
is where the fun lies, in the juxtaposition of various events of the song.
Jam!: Ever consider slipping in an early Public Image song like Religion
into the Pistols' shows now?
Lydon: Nah. I don't think the band could play it (laughs uproariously).
Ooh, ya bitch. No, that would be wrong. It would be a Johnny showcase.
That's not what it's about. It's the Pistols. We do songs that were around
at the time that we really like.
Jam!: But you wrote Religion at that time.
Lydon: Yeah, but that was at the tail end. They were very difficult times.
It would just really drag up some very, very bad memories best left alone
by those who know how to deal with them.
At which point Sir Johnny looks hard at me and, surprisingly, says: 'Cheer
up, life ain't that bad. Well, it is for some.'
jam!: Why, do I look depressed? Trust me, it's just an ethnic thing.
Lydon: Frankly, yes, to be perfectly honest. You look despondent there,
like, 'Oh, why can't Johnny just be nice?'
jam!: No thanks. That would be very dull.
Lydon: I can only be myself, and that's all there is to it. Life's too
short to be dishonest. Tell it like it is. The end. |