“Terrorize, threaten and insult your own useless generation”
Malcolm McLaren–former manager of the notorious British punk rock band–the Sex Pistols, directed The Great Rock and Roll Swindle after the Pistols broke up at the conclusion of their disastrous North American tour. The film begins with a group of actors dressed in 18th century garb carrying around–and abusing–vinyl effigies of the Pistols. Throughout the film, McLaren brags about his rules for swindling the record companies, and these rules alternate with footage of the Pistols in action. The parts of the film that include McLaren and his backdrop story are largely shapeless, incoherent ramblings. I don’t think it occurred to McLaren that the fans don’t really want to see his mug–we want to see the Sex Pistols. Fortunately, the film is loaded with clips of the Pistols–interviews–and in performance. The Great Rock and Roll Swindle is McLaren’s Ode to Himself. Lucky us–we see McLaren lolling around naked in the bath (while he pontificates to a transvestite dwarf). McLaren even takes the camera on a brief visit to Johnny Rotten’s one-time voice coach. She informs the audience that Rotten couldn’t carry a note–unlike dear Malcolm–he apparently has a wonderful ear. And then to prove the point, McLaren–with the same dwarf in tow–sports a nifty little kilt and matching jacket while he weedily performs some hideous song.
The film attempts to show that McLaren was the mastermind behind the Sex Pistols, and that he set out with the intention to swindle the record companies. Furthermore, the Sex Pistols, according to their ever-loyal ex-manager, were a talentless bunch–and that, McLaren believes, makes the swindle even more ingenious. These are the main points of the film, and ironically McLaren manages to debunk his own myth without even realizing it. The Sex Pistols were so ‘effectively’ managed, their first and final tour was a complete and utter disaster. They were managed into destruction. McLaren is evidently rather proud of the fact that two record companies (EMI and A&M) paid large settlements to the Pistols just for the privilege of dropping them from the label. Cartoon segments in the film include extensive bragging with pound signs ringing up at the cash register. If it was really McLaren’s intention at the outset to swindle the record companies (and this is possible given McLaren’s interest in Situationist Theory), I would like to point out that the brilliant plan imploded rather early on–the Pistols (with Sid Vicious) existed from March 1977 until January 1978. As to the theory that the Pistols were talentless–well you just have to watch the video and catch Rotten’s electrifying stage presence to understand what nonsense that is.
Was there a great rock and roll swindle? Absolutely. The fans were swindled by exploitation of the band. Perhaps if the Pistols had been carefully managed, they would have produced more music. But above all, the band members were also swindled–although a court case against McLaren in 1988 awarded each surviving band member 200,000 pounds each.
I have always kept an open mind towards some of the bleaker motivations applied to McLaren’s management techniques of the Pistols, but after concluding The Great Rock and Roll Swindle, I feel as though I have a much better grasp of McLaren’s responsibility in the band’s destruction. The video The Great Rock and Roll Swindle is an absolute must for fans of the Sex Pistols. It’s full of vomit-worthy, preening nonsense from McLaren, but it’s also full of scenes from the Sex Pistol’s performances. Songs include: “Anarchy in the UK”, “God Save the Queen”, “No Feelings” and “Holidays in the Sun” (performed by the Pistols). Sid Vicious performs “My Way” and “Something Else.” The film is an invaluable piece of the Sex Pistol’s story, and I recommend it to all the fans out there.
