Public Image Ltd.: Second Edition

At the end of the Sex Pistols’ final American performance, The Artist Then Known As Johnny Rotten looked out to the audience and said, “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” While a seemingly taunting remark, it was actually an acknowledgment of his position as a pawn in somebody else’s joke. With the band effectively over, he resolved to do everything his way from then on, and not be used by anyone.

Step one for John Lydon was reclaiming his name; step two was forming a new band. Public Image got their name from their first single; this was soon amended to reflect his desire to “limit” said image in favor of their music. Hence, Public Image Ltd. (or PiL, per their logo). Very British, don’t you know.

Their first album wasn’t released in the States, and their second album had an even stranger route. Metal Box consisted of three 12-inch 45s crammed into a film canister, with only a slip of paper listing the song titles. Cheaply made and susceptible to damage, it was eventually rejigged as a two-record set at standard LP speed and retitled Second Edition.

Just as the Pistols showed a generation of amateurs that anyone could be in a band, PiL followed on the post-punk example of Joy Division and the like, creating songs from the barest of frameworks and instrumental direction. Keith Levene, who’d been kicked out of an early lineup of the Clash, contributed anarchic guitar parts, as well as synthesizer. Jah Wobble was a self-taught bass player fond of reggae and dub. Both filled in on drums on Second Edition whenever the band was in between full-time sticksmen; this would explain why many of the tracks seem to go out of sync from time to time. The singer’s whiny yell has evolved into a low croon, with occasional bleating to remind us who he was, eschewing the verse/chorus format for stream-of-consciousness patter and murky imagery.

The album is an assault, beginning with the ten-minute “Albatross” (as in “getting rid of the”) and the edgy “Memories” (as in “this person’s had enough of useless”). “Swan Lake” gets its title from the Tchaikovsky quote badly played by Keith Levene throughout; as a single, this was called “Death Disco”. “Poptones” and “Careering” form a fascinating pair, lengthy anti-songs chosen to be mimed on American Bandstand, of all things.

The second half of the non-metal version of the album kicks off with instrumentals: the Krautrock-influenced “The Socialist” and an alternate mix of a B-side, here called “Graveyard” mixed in favor of the guitar. From there the album gets increasingly challenging: “The Suit” skewering society; the seemingly spontaneous “Bad Baby”; the utter random construction of “No Birds”. “Chant” piles everything on, with a maddening drum attack, Lydon repeating “love war fear hate” for five minutes on one track while the main vocal gets even more paranoid. And with the effect of a radio changing stations, “Radio 4” provides a perverse Enoesque synth coda.

Second Edition is not easy listening, and some will say it’s not music; those who can endure it will find it mesmerizing. And for that, Public Image Ltd. accomplished exactly what it set out to do.

Public Image Ltd. Second Edition (1980)—3

Sex Pistols: Never Mind The Bollocks

Not every band known as punk pioneers was made up of tone-deaf kids who didn’t know how to play their instruments. The Sex Pistols cultivated an image as anti-music despite the undeniable chops of guitarist Steve Jones and drummer Paul Cook. Their original bass player, Glen Matlock, was seemingly kicked out of the band for being too talented. The self-styled Johnny Rotten, who definitely had the attitude, brought in his musically incompetent friend Sid Vicious to play bass instead; that was the most “punk” thing about them. (While not credited as such, Steve Jones either played bass on their sole studio album, or had his guitar parts mixed in such a way to give the tracks some bottom. And who was that producer? Chris Thomas, famous from his work on the White Album and Dark Side Of The Moon.)

We’re not going to attempt to recount their entire story, mostly because it’s been done so well elsewhere, but suffice it to say that their basic legacy endures in its most simple form as a single LP, which was released by the third label to sign them in the UK, and has remained in print on Warner Bros. since its release in the US. What’s especially convenient about Never Mind The Bollocks Here’s The Sex Pistols is that it includes all of their singles. (Naturally, some of the mixes and performances are different from those singles, so good luck if you’re a completist.) Musically, it’s no more distorted than most heavy metal, mostly based around power chords learned from the Who and the Kinks, while lyrically, it’s occasionally very funny.

Marching feet and a riff stolen from The Jam kick off “Holidays In The Sun”, Johnny shouting garbled references to Belsen and the Berlin Wall. “Bodies” is blatantly anti-abortion and pro-fanity, the latter easily keeping it off many right-to-lifer’s playlists. “No Feelings”, “Liar” and “Problems” all display the defiant attitude that had been pissing people off for months, none more so than “God Save The Queen” (which became such a piece of history that it was included as part of the Olympic ceremonies in London, with Her Majesty in attendance).

“Seventeen” is an oddity; besides being the shortest song on the album, its title is a smokescreen for the chorus (“I’m a lazy sod”, which soon turns to “I’m a lazy Sid”). It’s over in time for “Anarchy In The U.K.” to make its appearance. A wonderful mix of acronyms and anger, it’s easy enough to transfer to other countries and associations for the millions of bands who’ve covered it. Want more proof these guys were clever? Manager Malcolm McLaren told them to write a song about submission; thus “Submission” takes it literally (“I’m on a submarine mission for you, baby… I can’t get enough of your watery love”). They apparently needed no such prodding for “Pretty Vacant”, another statement of purpose. “New York” slams more stolen power chords into the wax, its lyrics insulting people on two other continents, including those who might have actually appreciated the band. Finally, “EMI” leaves a fat raspberry for their first former record label, getting in a dig at A&M at the end.

There was no way such a good thing could last, and the band was done within months of releasing Never Mind The Bollocks. The two talented guys went on to record with Ronnie Biggs, the Great Train Robber, and take whatever gigs they could get; Johnny went back to his own name and fronted the ever-changing and truly anti-music Public Image Ltd; Sid’s solo career didn’t get him any further than being accused of stabbing his girlfriend to death and dying himself before he was brought to trial. Trying to mop of the rest of their recorded legacy is difficult, not least because of the spottiness and repetition of everything they did. So it’s just as well that this album presents them at their best, and most influential.

Sex Pistols Never Mind The Bollocks Here’s The Sex Pistols (1977)—4