#johnny rotten x sid vicious

[release-the-mccracken]

"I don't feel like myself anymore. I can smell blood and it's trailing out the door. What if I'm rotten, worms eating at my core?"

🦇 - 🦇 - 🦇

🦇 - 🦇 - 🦇

🦇 - 🦇 - 🦇

[undinegeist]

Idk about this, I usually write this sort of chat stuff for the Avengers, but ignoring the fact that there were no phones then I figured I’d do a Sex Pistols version…I might write more like this later, if it feels right. I’m trying to come up with something longform but the well’s kind of dry lately.

Hope you like it anyway.

-

Vivienne: MALC! I DON’T SEE THEM!

Steve: You’re not supposed to see us, we’re wearing our invisibility cloaks

Johnny: Speak for yourself, I’m just minding my own business

Malcolm: Need I remind you all we have a gig in three hours?

Sid: Where is it again?

Chrissie: At Hyde. Is that what I’m here for?

Malcolm: Yes, Chrissie, you are a walking calendar and we love you.

Chrissie: I don’t love you.

Sid: You will 💦

Chrissie: Nice try 🙄

Nick: She’s my girlfriend

Sid: No she’s not

Chrissie: He’s right, I’m not

Chrissie: The sex is good though, when you can get it up

Steve: She just did a number on you, Nick

Nick: Like I did a number on you, ‘cause you can’t play for shit?!

Nancy: What’s going on here, I can hear you all screaming all the way across the zoo!

Sid: You aren’t all the way across the zoo, Nancy, I can see you talking to the penguins…

Nancy: Yes, well, the New York penguins aren’t very nice…they spit at you.

Chrissie: I don’t think penguins can spit…

Nancy: Well, those can! I’m telling you they spat up my hair…

Sid: With their spit?

Johnny: I think Nancy’s mixing up that other time we went to the zoo and the donkey sneezed in her face…

Nancy: That was traumatic too, I had to sleep for three days!

Sid: More like three hours, but that’s alright.

Malcolm: Why are we still here?

Nancy: I haven’t seen the butterflies yet!

Malcolm: You’ve been here three times in the last few weeks…

Johnny: Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’ll take her.

Vivienne: Has anyone noticed Y/N is suspiciously silent?

Steve: Last I saw we were at the lion enclosure, said she was going to check if there were any baby snakes since last time we were here…

Malcolm: That was a week ago

Steve: You try telling Y/N that, you’ll have your head bitten off

Malcolm: Am I really the only one concerned about our concert?

Sid: Concerned concert

Sid: Ha ha ha

Malcolm: Yes, you’re awfully witty

Sid: Indeed I am

Malcolm: Now will you please use said wits to find Y/N before we’re late again?

Sid: Alright, yeah

Sid: But you’ll owe me

Malcolm: I’ll pay you in candy and clothes, how does that sound?

Sid: Perfect

Vivienne: Not my clothes, you’re not!

Malcolm: Hush Viv, I’m making a deal with the devil

Johnny: Are you now? 😈

Johnny: Did you hear that, Sid? Apparently you’re the devil now.

Sid: Am I?

Sid: Somebody forgot to tell me

Johnny: You do know what that means, though, right?

Sid: We don’t have to show tonight or any night and should absolutely hitchhike someplace no one will find us

Johnny: That’s right

Johnny: I’ll fetch Chrissy and Nancy

Sid: I’ve got Steve and Y/N, they were in the bathroom trying to get coins out of the machines…maybe Steve can use them to call Jordan and let her in on the plan.

Johnny: Alright, so ahead we go! Don’t forget the way!

Malcolm: VIV! STOP THEM!

Vivienne: Me? You’re the manager, manage them.

Malcolm: THATS CRUEL AND UNHELPFUL, the GIG’s BEEN SET FOR WEEKS!

Vivienne: No one told you to let Steve bring them to the zoo on gig day, Malc. As far as I’m concerned, this is entirely your doing.

Malcolm: WICKED VIV! I LOVE YOU!

Vivienne: Yes, and that’s precisely why. I’ll call down to Hyde and tell them the Pistols are indisposed.

Malcolm: THANK YOU

Vivienne: You are welcome.

Steve: Tell them too we’ll be gone at least a week. The dinosaurs have missed me.

Johnny: He means we’ll be somewhere in the Jurassic Coast, though don’t tell them that

Sid: If someone tails us, I’ll kill them

Sid: I’ve got my chains

Sid: Nancy’s got her truncheons, don’t you, Nance?

Nancy: Oh yes, I’ve been dying to use them

Nancy: I got Y/N some too

Nancy: Though she’s busy right now on account of the shrooms we picked

Nancy: Mine haven’t kicked in yet

Johnny: They will, don’t you worry

Steve: Yeah…

Malcolm: See you in a week, behave yourselves somewhat please

Steve: Two weeks, but alright

Malcolm:

Malcolm: I think I should quit

Vivienne: You’d never.

Malcolm: True

Malcolm: But I should

Vivienne: You know what they say about should.

Malcolm: That it’s never done?

Vivienne: Nor should it be.

Malcolm: I really do sort of love you.

Vivienne: Thank you.

Malcolm: You don’t love me?

Vivienne: Only sometimes

Malcolm:

Malcolm: I guess that’s better than no.

Vivienne: It is, now shoo. I’m trying to talk to the lions.

Malcolm:

Malcolm: This is all very strange

Steve: Go home

Malcolm: Alright.

Vivienne: I wonder do they realize they’ve told us where they’ll be…

Malcolm: Shhh…that’s a secret.

Vivienne: 🙄🙄🙄

[vxnomoxz]

- you're my only real mate, Sid.

- you need another, for later...i'll be dead by the time i'm twenty one.

- don't say stupid clichés like that!

Johnny Rotten x Sid Vicious

Pistol (2022)

[sexpistolsarchive]

undefined

John and Sid being complete dicks to the adorable miss Poly Styrene.

From the movie ‘Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliché’ (2021) dir. Paul Sng and Celeste Bell.

[songbyrd15]

Is anyone writing for the Pistol fx series??? Anyone???

[itsgaga]

Dating Johnny Lydon/Rotten Would Include...

a/n: hi, you should appreciate johnny and the sex pistols. ok thanks.

Johnny as a boyfriend...

Is not what you thought it would be

Ok so first off meeting out of the blue

Like you were walking downtown in the city maybe stopping at a street store and when you started walking you weren’t really paying attention

You didn’t start to pay attention until you heard an “excuse me miss” you looked up to your eyes meeting his eyes 

You apologized thinking you were in his way when he told you weren’t and he had just wanted to talk to you

He was pretty blunt and just straightforwardly asked you out

Now dating, 

You’ve seen him in interviews 

You saw how he was portrayed

But he wasn’t like that with you

He was genuinely sweet and kind hearted 

With a witty sense of humour 

And he is always playing around 

Like you ask what he thinks of a outfit 

And he’ll say how hideous it is 

Just will go on and on about it

But the second he is done messing with you he’ll grab you and hold you while saying how beautiful you are

He.Will.Not.Let.Anyone.See.That.Side.Of.Him.

Meaning affection really only happens behind closed doors

Except for him occasionally holding your hand

John

Johnny

Dude

He fell hard

His heart is so open for you and only you

Like he sees no other woman 

A girl could throw themselves onto him

Won’t even act like she’s there

She doesn’t deserve/need his time

When he is completely devoted to you

John is a hard head

Is very stubborn 

So for a while it was really frustrating trying to express your feelings on a topic because he would also express his feelings about the same topic and would not stop until you hear all of what he has to say

As time went on though he realized what he was doing and would let you express your opinions without adding his own

THE MOST NON JUDGEMENTAL PERSON YOU HAVE EVER MET

Like ma’am tell him you did the most weird or fucked up thing you can think of and there will not be a single ounce of judgement on his face or in his eyes 

If he judges you then you’ll turn away from telling him your secrets or your feelings 

At least that’s how he sees it

Protective

No man will treat you poorly while you’re with him

Not even just a man 

Women

Anyone

Any person

The second he hears a negative comment come out of someones mouth and it’s about you?

Ah man

No.

They’re done for

Words just start spitting out

Jealous???

Not really...

Like everyone has their moments 

But John really doesn’t get jealous 

He has enough trust in you and knows that if any guy hits on you then you will come and tell him

If anyone does hit on you it’s kind of a “are you fucking stupid” type of thought that comes to his mind

Bc you’re with him 

You wouldn’t just leave him 

He is sure of it.

You are 100% his whole world

Like you are the source of his happiness

You literally are his happiness

He is constantly wondering how the hell he got a girl like you

And where the hell you came from

Bc no person on this planet is like you

Like you have this breath of fresh air about you

Everyone sees that about you

It’s something about you that John just can’t seem to figure out

And trust me he really has tried hard

Seriously you are always on his mind

Even when he focused on something else the thought of you is still back there 

Girl the looks you got when you said you were dating him

Like “i’m dating johnny lydon” everybody just stopped

Gave you this look like “what did you just say”

It’s really all because of his reputation 

And people who haven’t seen you two together kind of try to push you away

But dear the type of relationship and love you two share isn’t something you just find 

Like it comes to you

And it’s so rare

It’s like you two were made for each other

And completed one another.

[kimhargreeves]

Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll-Sid Vicious x Reader x Johnny Rotten

Summary, A/N: Warning!! This entire chapter is a smut more specifically a *coughs* threesome. It is the second time I write something like this and needed some Sex Pistols content since there arent many and I'm currently listening to their stuff again. These punk boys need more love.

****************

The pub was filled to the brim once more to the sound of heavy punk music. It is 1977 and the punk scene and community has gotten even bigger, every person wanted to show off their own style and go to as many concerts as they could to enjoy the music and get drunk.

I was lucky enough to have met everyone from The Clash and from there on I met the Sex Pistols about a year ago. We didn't talk much since everyone would mostly get themselves high, drunk or have sex with every girl they met after their performance.

Some guys around began throwing bottle of beers against the wall, or throwimg them close to the band making a huge mess around and making the band members even angrier. Soon the place became a mess and everyone was fighting. I huffed out annoyed and rolled my eyes.

Great. Today I wanted to have fun and now some asshole has ruined the fun for me. I decided to leave the place cause if I stayed I know i'd get punched. All these men ever do is fight.

I fixed my clothes and made it out. From the inside I could hear glass shatter and cussing. "And stay out! You're all making a fucking mess!" An older man shouted pushing someone out.

"Fuck off." A man with bright red hairsaid flipping him the finger. I noticed the man and recognized him. The lead singer of the Pistols. Johnny Rotten. The man had a few cuts on his face but he paid no mind to them.

"You alright?" I mutter a bit uninterested and stayed a few steps away from him. He is known to flip out on anyone. The man glared down at me.

"The fuck do you care? Mind your own fucking business." Johnny responded and lit up a cigarette. The doors opened once more and out came the rest of the band.

"Can you believe that twat? That old geezer will pay for kicking our arses out." Steve uttered glaring back at the man inside the pub. Glen and Paul kept things to themselves and I glanced over and looked up at the tall skinny man who minded his own business not caring what others said.

"Whatever let's just head out and get high." Sid muttered with a cigar in his mouth and noticed me staring at him. "What's it to you love? Want to hang out at my apartment and fuck?" He said with a smirk making me blush.

Johnny began to laugh at Sid's comment. "Seriously mate you fuck anything that has two legs. Seems like you won't be getting much out of it." He said pointing at my body since I don't exactly have curves like other girls or anything to capture a guys attention.

I was wearing my white doc martins, black knee high socks, black shortsand black tshirt with a leather jacket. "What would Nancy say about her?" He teased Sid who kept his eyes on me.

"She doesn't have to know. You coming then?" Sid ignored his friend and looked at me again. "I have nothing else to do so why not." I shrugged my shoulder making Sid smirk so he came over and wrapped his arms around me.

"Glen and I will head over to eat. We're starving." Paul said so they both left the three of us alone. Johnny looked annoyed that Sid was bringing me over to their place so I stayed silent and we went to their place.

It wasn't the most cleanest place to say the least, there was just enough food for the both of them, some instrumenys laying around with newspapers and clothes scattered around the floor with two matresses near a window. The curtains were even slightly torn and not to mention there were many empty bottles too.

"Have we fucked before?" That took me off guard when Johnnt suddenly asked me that.

"No.." I answered him and watched him take off his boots. "I swear I met someone who looked kinds like you..no wait! You're that girl we met about a year ago. I was so bloody high I couldn't even stand up." He laughed at the memory.

"Yeah you kept insulting me that I was just another whore trying to sleep with the band, so you almost threw a bottle at my face." I blunty tell him and watched his smoking again when Sid came along doing the same.

"Things happen love." He replid shrugging his shoulders and blowing out smoke. Sure he was an asshole to me and has always been one from the start but I can't help but feel attracted to him. Sid came over to my side and I blushed when I felt his hand on my thigh. The room was soon filled with the familiar smell of smoke and alcohol, not to mention the sky was getting slightly darker since it began to get cloudy and soon it started to rain.

"No need to be nervous." Sid chuckled seeing my nervous expression when I felt him kissing my neck. "Here I'll bring you something to drink." He said standing up and leaving to bring some more drinks.

Johnny glanced over to me and pushed me against the matress. "Even though i've been in ass to you, I can't help but want you too. Sid can have any girl on his feet but you are different, you stood up to me back then..how about we have some fun before Sid gets back?" My eyes widened s bit but I couldn't help but blush almost the same shade of his hair color when Johnny leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.

He moved his kisses down to my neck and my heart went faster when I felt him pressing against my leg. Johnny continued his way down and shrugged my leather jacket off and took my shirt off leaving my upper body exposed. I moaned when I felt his lips licking and sucking my nipples, i gripped the sheets under me and felt him continue.

I felt myself getting needier down there and an ache. As if he read my mind he smirked and made him way lower and unbottoned my shorts and pulled them down slowly with my underwear. I bit my lip and gasped when I felt cold and saw him licking his lips.

"Didn't take ya long enough to get wet." He chuckles staring up with his blue eyes. I flinched and moaned when I felt his fingers playing with me but a second later he attached his mouth to me.

"Ahh f-fuck." I screamed and looked down. Johnny's tounge began to dive deeper into me and felt vibration when he moaned against me and used one of his hands to rub me. I moaned loudly and grabbed his bright hair tight. He didn't stop. He kept going and spreading my lips apart to lick every spot he could.

"The bloody hell is happening?" Sid suddenly appeared and stared at the scene before him. He wasn't completely fazed by it. "Thought you both dick heads hated each other." He boredly said still smoking.

"Not anymore, Vicious." Johnny replied winking at me and cleaned his chin from my fluids. "Want to join?" He asked with a smirk. Sid scoffed and threw the fag and took his jacket off and the rest of his clothes. Johnny did the same and now we were all completely naked.

This is not how I planned my weekened. Meeting up with the Sex Pistols again was uncalled for and now here I am with their vocalist and bass player.

My face grew red since I haven't done this before and never expected my first time to be a threesome. Oh, well. In these times nothing matters and I want to live life. Sid and I are the same age and Johnny is a year older.

They have lived their punk lives to the fullest and know what they are doing. Johnny knelt down to where he was first and spreaded my legs and continued to rub me in circles making me moan and bite my lip.

Sid knelt over close to my face and began stroking himself. Without warning me John grabbed his member and slid himself inside of me. I closed my eyes shut and cursed st him for not telling me anything. Sid held my chin so I would look up at him and opened my mouth when I knew what he meant.

Johnny held my hips tight and thrusted into me harder each time making me moan against Sid's member, with one hand I stroked what couldn't fit and heard his curse when I did and he continued thrusting into my mouth and playing with my breasts.

"Fuck!" I cried out and whined when I looked down and saw Johnny going in and out of me at a fast pace and and with one hand he rubbed my clit and thrusted his fingers in. I held onto the sheets beneath me and I was sure the neighbors could hear us despite the heavy rain outside.

I came undone and fell onto the mattress and felt Johnny continue until he placed his arms between my head. I scratched his back and moaned again. Johnny cursed to himself and thrusted in and out and hit me up one last time and I felt something warm. We both stopped and I blushed when he leaned down and kissed me, I winced when he thrusted again and pulled out. "You made such a mess love." He laughed cleaning his chest and spreaded my legs and felt his cum dripping out of me.

"Make sure to keep it quiet you kids." Johnny teased walking into the bathroom leaving me and Sid now. Sid grabbed my neck tight and kissed me sloppily, "Turn around love." I bit my lip and did as told.

My face was resting against the bed and I felt Sid smack my behind and spreading my juices with his dick. My mouth fell dry that I couldn't even moan. I spreaded me and felt him enter me and he held my hips tight, which were sure to be bruised too. Sid held tightly to me and thrusted into me fast, i felt myself cry when he reached over and rubbed me and with his other hand gripped my hair tight.

I blushed and felt myself get dirty. What would Nancy say if she knew about this. Few minutes went by and felt my lower back hurt and my jaw since Johnny came back for a round two and gripped my hair tight so I tried not to choke.

"I'm gonna cum!" I cried again and felt Sid going faster and so did Johnny. One..two..three! I closed my eyes shut and felt warm again inside me. Sid and Johnny moaned. Johnny slowly peeled himself from me leaving a string of his cum to my mouth. I wiped it off and sucked every drop of him.

"Such a good dirty girl." He smirked resting his hands on my cheeks and kissing my lips. Sid pulled himself out of me and fell down the mattress and lit up a cigarette again.

"This was better than what I had with those fuckin groupies." He sighed. I tiredly rested my head on the pillow and felt my entire body ache.

"Rest now love. You'll gonna need it." Johnny winked and drapped a warm blanket on top of me and rested his head next to mine. I smiled to myself and turned over to hug him and rest my head on his chest.

Sid smirked looking at the scene and continued to smoke while reading the newspaper. Rain could still be heard and even though I enjoyed this a lot..I hope no one outside of our circle hears about this.

[a-sprinkle-of-moodboardss]

“To my beautiful baby girl; our love will never die.”

Sid and Nancy moodboard 

Requests are currently open! Feel free to drop one by me, I do everything x

[nancy-laura-spungen]

Many thanks to Den Browne for an amazing chapter of his book Padlocks recounting going to an X Ray Spex gig with Sid & Nancy.

When Sid and Nancy moved into our place I imagined that our social life would take a dramatic upturn. We’d be clubbing, gigging, ligging, drugging and generally hanging out punk rock style. It soon became clear that on Sid’s meagre allowance from the Pistols, we’d be lucky to manage a night at the pub. They’d experienced threats and harassment when out, and besides, there are few things more conducive to an indoor lifestyle than a heroin habit.

But from time to time we did venture out into the uncomprehending world. One crisp autumn afternoon – to our total surprise – they announced that they wanted to join us on the weekly trip to the launderette down the road. Despite all the arguments and casual violence, there was a “Babes in the Wood” side to Sid and Nancy where they’d go all sentimental, and play out the roles of mainstream Mummies and Daddies, briefly immersing themselves in the mundane routines of living as a couple. Generally Nancy seemed to be the dominant one in the relationship, telling us with relish that Sid had been “practically a virgin” when they met, and that she’d taught him all he knew about sex – not that he seemed to mind. Occasionally he’d object, saying that he’d had plenty of previous girlfriends and sexual encounters, but they’d all been “dogs” compared to Nancy, the first partner to really engage him emotionally and sexually. But sometimes she could sink into a childlike neediness – maybe we’d call it “being high maintenance” now – and out of nowhere there’d be a sudden asthma attack, followed by a series of dramas around finding her inhalers before calm would return.

When we got to the launderette in England’s Lane it was busy, with machines clanking and humming, while the regulars caught up on local gossip. Nancy suddenly developed a great interest in the small details of the laundry, using her Dickensian Cockney Waif voice and discussing the merits of conditioners and water-softeners with one of the customers. No-one took any notice of us, and once we’d loaded our washing – comprising Pistols’ and Heartbreakers’ t-shirts for the most part – into a couple of machines I went and bought some Cokes at the shop next door. As it was stuffy and noisy in the launderette we decided to take our drinks to the bus shelter round the corner while the washing went round. Being mid-afternoon the street was soon swarming with kids coming out of the local schools. In no time they spotted Sid, and after some nervous whispering, they started to come over.

The boldest girl stepped forward, after carefully mussing up her hair,

“My mate reckons you’re Sid Vicious, but I ain’t sure…”

Sid laughed, “Neither am I most of the time….”

His identity established, Sid fielded a deluge of breathless questions

“When you playing live again?”

“What’s the next record mate?”

Soon he was signing every scrap of paper, exercise book or school bag pushed his way. When there was nothing left to sign he ended up taking the badges off his jacket for them. Sid had often talked about how the group’s fans – especially the young ones – were what mattered most to him, more than the music, money or drugs. He was adamant that he’d never succumb to the Star Trip and distance himself from the kids. There was an idealistic side to Sid which he usually kept well hidden, or got lost in the endless piss-taking banter of his day-to-day conversation. It was great to see that he really meant it and totally moving to see how much the kids responded to his openness.

Initially Nancy was delighted by the happy throng milling around us in the shelter, as it lent support to her claim – advanced more and more often now – that Sid was more popular with the kids than Johnny Rotten, and this was because their uncontaminated minds could tell that Sid was “for real”, while the singer had now sold out in his desire for stardom. Soon though it became clear that there was no fame-by-association. Annie and I barely merited a glance, despite our leather jackets and Pistols shirts. Nancy pushed her way into the crowd, thinking they’d soon be wanting her autograph too. After all she was a star now as well, right? But the kids weren’t interested, her embarrassment only saved by a bus coming round the corner. Suddenly the kids were gone, but we weren’t alone for long.

Two local old girls arrived, wheezing and puffing on their fags, clad in hats and coats despite the warm weather, and pushing fearsome wheeled shopping trolleys before them. These were used as battering rams to shunt us down into the far end of the bus shelter. After a while it was impossible to ignore the glares directed at us, followed by a stage-whispered conversation,

“It’s ‘im innit, that Sex Pistol. Vicious or sumfing…”

“Ooh yeah, you’re right. Don’t ‘e look ‘orrible…”

A while later we were snug again down in the basement. Sid was reading the NME between nods, checking out the live section. Suddenly he spotted that X-Ray Spex were playing the Marquee that night, and he wanted to go. A couple of phone calls later, and transport and guest-list had been arranged. This was all a little surprising, as Sid usually had nothing but scorn for most UK punk groups. Clearly X-Ray Spex were among the exceptions. For our part, we’d bought a couple of their singles, and Annie loved Poly Styrene’s hi-concept appearance and don’t-give-a-toss vibe – I wasn’t so sure. There were so many groups around at the time with a good song or two, striking looks and a bit of attitude, but nothing much beyond that. Even at that early stage there was a clear hierarchy emerging on the punk scene – were X-Ray Spex going to rise to the elite or drift along in Division Two with the likes of Generation X or Eddie and the Hot Rods.

Although people like the Ramones always came first for him, Sid was passionately loyal to old mates where groups were concerned. So he loved the Slits, on account of the Flowers of Romance connection via Viv Albertine. There was a kind of grudging respect for the Clash. I was relieved that my own favourites – the Only Ones – merited a nod of approval.

As for the Hot Rods, there’d been friction between them and the Pistols when they’d been on the same live bill – and were bandwagon-jumping pop lightweights in Sid’s opinion, to be cast into oblivion along with such opportunists as the Police or the Vibrators. Generation X were particularly scorned – there seemed to be a very personal animosity towards Billy Idol – as copyists and for looking like “mail order punks” in his words. His loathing of the Damned had a similar edge to it. Elvis Costello wasn’t punk in any way, I was told firmly. The Jam were mere Sixties revivalists, while the Stranglers were so old as to be barely worthy of consideration as “punk” – or as Nancy put it once, their fans were “the kinda people who go to football matches”, much to my chagrin. There was no denying that we had both the Stranglers’ albums and I tried to mount a defence. My turning point in getting into punk – rather than just liking some of the singles because they reminded me of the Who or Small Faces – had come at the Roundhouse in summer ’76. We’d gone to see long term favourite Patti Smith. Since the arrival of “Horses” at the beginning of that year we’d sought out books of hers like “Seventh Heaven”, and then obscure import singles and US magazines. She’d been amazing, and as we’d spent the whole set pressed against the front of the stage we’d been blown away by the sheer physicality and dervish energy of the music as much as the power and intensity of the lyrics. However I’d been just as impressed by how the Stranglers handled a disinterested and increasingly hostile crowd who were only interested in seeing the Big Name they’d paid money for. It was one of the most dramatic and intense gigs I’ve ever seen – or “dialectical”, as Jean-Jacques Burnel had put it at the time – but Sid and Nancy were unmoved. The Stranglers had been marked down as provincial dinosaurs, and there could be no way back, Nancy ending all discussion with a dismissive,

“They’re just too old, you know?” she said, with a slight shudder at the thought.

For once Nancy managed to sort out her clothes, hair, make-up and sprays in time, and all that was left to do was to have a serious hit to set us up for the rest of the evening. The Post Office Tower once again signed the way like a beacon as we drifted down from Camden towards the West End. I recalled how it had lit the way home the night we’d all met, and how distant the summer seemed now.

Going to the Marquee … I drifted back to my first visit in March ’68, going seeing Ten Years After with a bunch of mates from school, carrying our cool clothes round with us all day in anticipation. I’d smoked my first joint during a frantic pre-gig session round at Steve’s house before his folks got in from work. From then on it became a regular hang-out on my weekend live music scene. All those British Blues Boom groups – John Mayall, Jethro Tull, Chicken Shack, Fleetwood Mac – seemed like something from another life time now, less than a decade later.

I pulled out of my reverie as the cab jolted to a halt in Wardour Street. For all the changes in music and fashion since then, the queue for the Marquee huddled on the pavement as ever, stretching down the road and trying to keep out the cold. We disgorged ourselves from the back of the car and stepped out unsteadily. We were spotted straightaway. It seemed like a pretty even split between friendly cries of “Hey Sid – over ‘ere mate” or “Hey, can you get us in?” and some harsher shouts of “Wanker – Bitch – Slag” and, “Oi, got yer drugs ‘ave you?” (yes, we had, since you asked).

Although there were no flashbulbs popping or eager reporters thrusting mics in our faces, one of my mundane guest-list fantasies came true as we walked straight to the head of the line, and with Sid being one of the most recognisable faces in London, we were ushered into the narrow entrance corridor without any problem. It had been a while since I’d been to the Marquee, but the décor was unchanged – those same red and white stripes on the wall – and it didn’t look like they’d had the cleaners in since last time either. The club was struggling to adapt to the punk scene and a different set of groups, fans and customs. Tonight though the audience was probably divided pretty equally between healthy looking blonde Scandinavian students, tourists, and the local punks.

We’d missed the support group, and soon X-Ray Spex came on, Poly Styrene bursting on to the stage in an explosion of synthetic material, acidic colours and trademark teeth-braces. But there was a vulnerable feeling to her alongside the brashness. Alas it wasn’t the original line-up with Lora Logic on sax, but they did have some seriously good songs. Apart from “Oh Bondage”, there was “Identity”, “The Day the World Turned Day Glo”, and “Germ Free Adolescents”, which all sounded great despite problems with the crap PA. The new sax player was probably a bit too keen to show his worth and tended to blast all over everything, not helped by a sound-mix that reduced everything else to a cement-mixer chug. All a great shame, as otherwise they had the tightness that only comes from putting in the hard yards on the road. I looked round at Annie and saw she was beaming with pleasure, eyes rapt on Poly Styrene. The rows of little plastic seats that used to be in front of the stage were long gone, the space now occupied by a heaving mass of Sid’s dreaded “mail order punks”, pogoing and gobbing because that was what you were meant to do at a punk gig, right?

I was just thinking how different it was from the days when almost everyone sat on the floor at gigs, and tried to remember when it had become so totally uncool as it was now, when Sid leant over and yelled into my ear,

“Oi, do you wanna get a beer?”

We pushed our way through the crowd at the back of the club. Eventually we got there only to be ignored by the bar staff who weren’t going to give any special service to someone just because he was a Sex Pistol. Finally we grabbed our bottles of Pils and headed towards a grimy fag-scarred sofa at the back of the room. I’d noticed a few double-takes while we were waiting at the bar, and now word was definitely out about Sid’s presence. Soon people were edging closer all around us.

It was the first time we’d sat down since arriving, and I could feel the lurking smack buzz hit me full force. I looked round at the others, struggling to fight the nod and focus my vision as I did so. Annie was first to go as always, and was soon resting her head on my shoulder in a deep gouch. Sid was sprawled back, mouth ajar, but somehow holding his beer bottle upright with deeply stoned skill. All I could make out of Nancy was the back of her head, hair in disarray, slumped down low between her knees, her breathing hoarse and erratic.

I must have nodded out myself for a few minutes, only coming round when my cigarette burnt down to my fingers. It looked like the scene in an old film where someone wakes up after being knocked out. There was a weird fish-eye lens quality to my field of vision, a bit blurred, and with everything seeming to crowd in towards me from the edges. We were framed by a light I hadn’t noticed before above the sofa, highlighting us in the general gloom of the club. There seemed something almost pre-Raphaelite about the composition of this scene, a strange innocence amid the squalor. I started to drift off again but forced myself back. I looked up and realised that the onlookers had edged closer. Now people were whispering and pointing in our direction, although no-one addressed us directly.

“What do you reckon?”

“Well, it does look like him”

“Nah, it’s just some look-alike”

 “Yeah, but that looks like her too….”

“Wow, they look really out of it”

“And he’s really fucked…”

It started to feel like being an animal at the zoo. I’d always been scornful of the so-called “pressures of stardom” but being owned and discussed by all-comers wasn’t my idea of fun. As I tried to stir Annie I was aware of flashbulbs popping close by. I’ve often wondered who took those pictures and what became of them, as they’ve never surfaced to my knowledge. Probably long lost, or buried deep in some forgotten Scandinavian scrapbook.

Now Sid came round, his mood changing as soon as he saw the cameras.

“Come on Nance, we’re going”, he said, roughly shaking her awake, before pushing past a couple of French punks wanting autographs. He was in a foul mood all the way home. Once again, being a star had failed to deliver.

[release-the-mccracken]

"I can smell blood and it's trailing out the door. What if I'm rotten, worms eating at my core?"

[undinegeist]

So who knows if the Sex Pistols ever hit Italy? Idk if they did, not gonna look it up. In the spirit of rebellion, but also ‘cause I just feel like Italy right now.

This is for @msbzowy - requested ages ago, I’m so sorry it took so long, was longer than I thought it would be, all my thoughts have emptied out of my head lately, writing-wise at least. Still trying to recapture them…so this might not be quite what you wanted, it’s not as long as I’d like…which is to say, I’m gonna try for a sequel.

I could just feel that if I went longer it’d lose quality and sense and everything else, but I wanted at least to write you something. If you like it let me know so I can work myself up for more and tag you. Sorry again, that it’s not as good as it could be.

-xx-

Y/N

-xx-

They call me out of nowhere, begging me to cover a spot…I have weekend plans, but being so new, I can’t turn down work, even if it means dumping my friends.

“Are you sure you want me though? I do theatre usually.”

“Same thing,” the girl on the other end of the line drawls. “At least you can speak English. There’s a stage. Just bring cotton to stuff in your ears, last time they almost sued us.”

She’s off the phone so fast, I get whiplash; at least there’s no lingering or dawdling, that takes ages…I pack up and get on a bus, and the venue is bigger than I expected, they must be at least semi-famous to be here…which reminds me I have no idea who’s playing.

“Hey.” He bumps my shoulder from behind, looks like he stuck his finger in a socket, though from the smell lingering on him probably just bathed in hair gel. “I’m Sid.”

“Y/N.” If I hadn’t clocked his hair, I’d definitely have clocked his clothes. “You’re in the band, I guess?”

“You guess? We’re the Sex Pistols. Don’t you know anything?”

I roll my eyes. “I guess not, if that means knowing who you are. Doesn’t bother me too much though.”

He actually smiles at this, like he’s pleased. “It should. You have no idea what you’re missing out on…”

“Show me then. What do you play?”

He averts his eyes at this, suddenly shy; it’s disconcerting. “Bass…sort of.”

“Sort of?” I make my voice gentler, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

“Yeah, I mean…I’m still learning. Not sure I’ve got the hang of it yet…”

“SIDNEY!” He starts at the voice, though I don’t…from the back there’s a boy with a barely there shirt, hair an even bigger mess than his, if that’s possible. “Who are you talking to?”

“Y/N. She’s…what are you?”

“Photographer.” I sigh. “Last minute.”

“Doesn’t matter…you’ll be great.” He smiles, and I sort of hate the way it makes me feel; this sort of thing never ends well.

“You should head out with us after too…we’re going to some fancy restaurant they’re paying for, to drown ourselves in pasta.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it will be. STEVE!” He’s gone just like that, like he wasn’t even there.

“Nevermind him, he’s kind of a rocket. Must be the sulfate he had on the way…you really should come with us, though. Will you?”

“Why does that feel like a marriage proposal?” His tone is way too earnest for someone asking me to dinner.

He shrugs. “Could be, never know how far we’ll take the night.”

I’d hate to get married, but I like the idea of not knowing where things will go…wish I had that more often, most of the people I photograph only ever go to the same places, run through the same crowds, there’s never anything different.

“Alright…I’ll come with you.”

“Great!” And he bites his lip, though he leans down and drops a kiss on my cheek, disappearing the moment he’s done…I barely have time to process this before he faceplants as he tries to wave at me, his friends laughing as he scrambles to his feet and goes the rest of the way backstage, nonplussed.

I stifle a laugh til he’s out of sight, thinking this night might go down in history, for me at least.

[vxnomoxz]

"we used to be best buddies, but now we are not, i wish you would tell me why"

Johnny Rotten x Sid Vicious

"Pistol" (2022)

[d0llpill]

would it be terrible to write johnny rotten x sid vicious?

[trashgrrrl]

Nothing makes me happier than adding more beauties to my collection

[vinylfromthevault]

John Lydon (kinda but not really) “The Lydons and The O’Donnells Family Album” 1986. MBC Records. Today, January 31st, is John Lydon’s 65th birthday (b. 1956). This weird “supergroup” record is a compilation of tracks originally recorded in 1979-80 featuring contributions (maybe?!) from members of Bananarama, Killing Joke and Generation X but may or may not actually have any ties to Lydon himself despite his name and likeness being prominently displayed on both the front and back covers. Side A has four tracks that were first issued by 4″ Be 2″ - a band composed of Lydon on production (which he later denied), his brother Jimmy, his other brother Martin (aka John Rambo Stevens), Jock O’Donnell, Paul Young (not the blue-eyed soul-pop crooner, rather a friend of John’s whose main claim to fame was chasing Sid Vicious with an axe after Vicious tried to kick in Lydon’s door) and Wally Waldron (also in Bloodsport). The first two tracks, “One of the Lads” and “Frustration” are both an odd mashup of punk/pop, reggae and banjo-picking Americana hill country music. “Jimmy Jones” is a swirly new wave number with snottyish punk’d vocals and “The Bitch” is a PiL-styled lengthy postpunk stoner droner. The first two track on Side B, “R.U. Dirty” and “Highland Tinker,” were recorded live at Futurama Leeds by Jock McDonald’s Indecent Exposure Show (Jimmy Lydon and Patrick/Jock O’Donnell) and are notable in that they purportedly have the first performances ever by Bananarama’s Keren Woodward and Sarah Dallin. The last two song on Side B are “No Feelings” - a cover of the Sex Pistols - and (listed as) “Rock ‘n’ Roll” by Gary Glitter -- but the song is actually “Freaks.” I’m not entirely certain where Billy Idol and Tony James from Generation X show up on the record, same for   Geordie Walker and Youth (Martin Glover) from Killing Joke, but I’d bet on the live Futurama Leeds tracks. Overall, the record is a classic Lydon “swindle” - but this time not from Johnny Rotten but his brother, looking to cash in on the Lydon name. “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” 

[dougmeet]

The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) Trivia Marianne Faithfull was to play Sid Vicious' mother in the original draft of the film, but backed out at the idea of a sex scene. 5 of 5 found this interesting | Share this To receive an 'X' certificate the BBFC required cuts to the final print. Full-frontal shots of Judy Croll (playing Soo Catwoman) in Malcolm McLaren's bathroom were optically enhanced to remove images of her lower regions (banned under the Protection of Children Act) and a long shot of her was cut by adding black panties to cover up the offending area. The scene was also cut by removing shots of Steve Jones' genitals during the sex scene with the Brazilian girl and Mary Millington's visible pubic area in her sex scene with Jones. A shot of Sid Vicious waving a flick-knife was moved back into the sequence to avoid equating sex with violence. The BBFC also demanded the inclusion of newspaper headline footage referring to the deaths of Vicious and Nancy Spungen. All later releases feature this same print. 5 of 5 found this interesting | Share this Sting appeared in a brief scene as the leader of a gay band, The Blow Waves, which attempts to kidnap Paul Cook, but the footage was cut. It later reappeared in the documentary The Filth and the Fury (2000). 5 of 5 found this interesting | Share this John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten) had left the group shortly before filming started. He had had his fill of the band and Malcolm McLaren, and wanted no part in the film. Therefore, he only appears in archival clips of Sex Pistols on stage. By the time the film had premiered, Lydon was already touring under his real name with his new band, Public Image Ltd. 3 of 3 found this interesting | Share this Julien Temple replaced original director Russ Meyer and original writer Roger Ebert as a result of creative differences. 2 of 2 found this interesting | Share this Contrary to popular belief the woman shot by Sid Vicious during his performance of "My Way" was not his mother Anne Beverley. She later stated in an interview that she was approached by Malcolm McLaren to play the role but turned him down, saying that "they used someone else in the end, an actress that didn't look like me at all, but because no one had seen me they all believed that it was me". 2 of 2 found this interesting | Share this Former soft-porn actress Rosemary England turned down the role of Sid Vicious' mother. 1 of 1 found this interesting | Share this

The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) - Trivia - IMDb