Otherwise I will forget.
And making it used to be so different. The best and the brightest went into music. A world where victory meant you were beholden to no one, where you got all the pussy you could handle and had more than enough money to pay for drugs and the whims of your imagination.
Welcome to the twenty first century. Where kids think stardom is fame and graybeards remember when dinosaurs walked the earth, when James Brown was called in to quell riots. That was the power of music. And it was about the music. The rest was just trappings. But now, all we’ve got are the trappings.
Today there’s truly too much going on, but so much of it is noise. It’s like we’re living in a Brillo pad, being scratched by shit we don’t care about, looking for clear light. That’s what music was, clear light.
When the Sex Pistols were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2006, they behaved exactly how we expected them to. They didn’t just snub the ceremony by not showing up, but took a metaphorical crap on the establishment in a grammatically challenged letter read at the ceremony by Rolling Stone founder, and ruiner, Jann Wenner. The band’s statement was simple: “Next to the Sex Pistols, rock and roll and that hall of fame is a piss stain. Your museum. Urine in wine. We’re not coming. We’re not your monkeys. If you voted for us, hope you noted your reasons. Your [sic] anonymous as judges but your [sic] still music industry people. We’re not coming.”
It finished with this little gem: “Your [sic] not paying attention. Outside the shit-stem is a real SEX PISTOL.”
Wow. After all this time the band that brought an underground music movement to the forefront of pop culture hasn’t changed an iota, and we love them for it. Part of being punk for real is never wavering in your conviction and/or vision.