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Malcolm McLaren, 1946-2010

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When Johnny Rotten (née Lydon) closed the Sex Pistols’ final show by sneering, “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?,” his query was directed as much to the band’s notorious svengali, Malcolm McLaren, as to the audience.

McLaren, an art-school dropout with a taste for semiotic sound-bites and sixth-form provocation, carefully contrived the Pistols for maximum confrontation value. He hand-picked each band member as much for their talents as their grit-in-the-oyster qualities.

A combustion engine sparking on all cylinders, the Pistols’ internal conflicts made the music burn that much faster and brighter. Lydon, the spit-and-vinegar Dickensian urchin, was pitted against the conventional pop sensibilities of Glen Matlock, with Messrs. Cook and Jones providing solid backup. (Vicious was added later, for maximum disruption value.)

Artfully crafted to shock, the results exceeded McLaren’s wildest expectations —and changed the face of music forever.

After the Pistols, lightning never struck twice for McLaren, not with Duck Rock, Waltz Darling or even the Lolita arch-pop of Bow Wow Wow (although that came close).

Ultimately, it’s hard to know where to stand on him: was he a postmodern visionary or a hack? Cultural appropriator or genius? Svengali trickster or pop-cultural cut chemist?

An infuriating blend of urbane sophisticate and schoolboy, sniggering over pornography and juvenile pranks, McLaren made himself very difficult to admire.

While he hardly invented punk or hip-hop (the very thought is ridiculous), he had a major talent for bringing vanguard art, music, and dance to the attention of the right people at the right time. (He gets points for bringing a collagist, mash-up sensibility to the fore long before it became the norm.)

In the end, though, he won the begrudging respect of even his most vociferous detractors, thanks to his daffy wit and uncanny ability to mesh wildly disparate cultural phenomena.

I leave you with one of his finest cross-genre cut-ups, “Double Dutch,” released in 1983.

MP3Malcolm McLaren, “Double Dutch” 12” version, 1983

PHOTO BY ANDREA FELDMAN

I’m Not the Same as When I Began

Watching this blurry yet riveting footage of Lydon/Levene/Wobble era makes me wonder what P.I.L. mach 2010 could possibly have to offer. Despite the reliable backing of mssrs. Lu Edmonds (Mekons), Bruce Smith (Pop Group, Slits) and Scott Firth, Lydon himself has bloated into an increasingly unknown quantity. Where did the incisive, self-critical Lydon of “Public Image” and “No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs” go? To paraphrase the redoubtable Tim Gunn, I worry about his taste level.

In all likelihood my curiosity will win out and I’ll be there, front row and center, for P.I.L.’s Providence show at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel on May 9th. Tickets on sale March 26. Be there or cry into your limited-edition Metal Box tin.

Or, like former drummer Martin Atkins, make brownies.

MP3Public Image Limited, “Public Image”

Past/Present

I love it when familiar or (in)famous faces turn up unexpectedly in new contexts. It happened when KK Barrett of the Screamers showed up as Spike Jonze’s production designer, and it’s happening now with David McDermott and Peter McGough’s new film, Mean to Me, a 12-minute end-of-the-affair noir starring Agyness Deyn, in her acting debut.

You may (or may not) remember McDermott’s immortal harangues from Glenn O’Brien’s TV Party. Exhibit A:

Designed to showcase, as Deborah Harry so succinctly put it, “neighborhood access to your friendly freaks around the block,” TV Party was an anarchic and often brilliant forum for a coterie of artists, musicians and writers just on the cusp of fame (or, in some cases, obscurity).

A TV Party regular, McDermott is one of these true East Village eccentrics. Through his partnership with McGough, he has sought to live entirely out of time, viewing the present as a trap and a dead end. The past, however, is filled with endless possibilities.

Partially underwritten by a number of corporate sponsors, this new project pushes their quietly anachronistic work into a new realm of commercial possibility. Watch the trailer via the New York Times T blog.

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COURTESY OF CHEIM & READ

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