TIMELINE, FROM LEF T: JOE S TEVENSON/RE TNA; LYNN GOLDSMI TH/CORBIS; ROBER TA BAYLE Y/RE TNA; ©JENN Y LENS PUNK ARCHIVE; RAY S TEVENSON/REX USA; PE TER MAZEL/SUNSHINE/RE TNA; DAVID ELLIS/RE TNA

Tom Sny der was restless and confused, too. As the chain-smoking, bushy-eyebrowed host of NBC’s The Tomorrow Show, weeknights at 1 A.M. (produced by Fox News mastermind Roger Ailes), he was both desperate for guests and endlessly curious about what in the heck’s going on out there.

So on October 11, 1977, he announced: “We’re going to do something called punk rock.” He’d just read a Rolling Stone cover story titled “Rock Is Sick and Living in London: A Report on the Sex Pistols,” which documented the band’s travails, including a damaging live appearance earlier in the year on local London TV, during which crotchety, soused host Bill Grundy goaded guitarist Steve Jones into calling him a “dirty fucker” and a “fucking rotter.” As a result, throughout ’ 77, Pistols’ shows had been plagued by controversy, either canceled or overrun by wannabe punk hooligans in dog collars. The monarchy-indicting single “God Save the Queen,” released in the midst of the Silver Jubilee (a celebration of Queen Elizabeth II’s 25th year on the throne), was banned by the BBC. The band was arrested for performing the song on a boat in the Thames. Punk was a tabloid menace—“the filth and the fury,” as The Daily Mirror dubbed it (inspiring the title of Julien Temple’s 2000 Pistols documentary). Snyder summed up the article: “It gets into urination, beating people up, bloody noses.”

To discuss this grotty phenomenon—which Snyder plainly asserted started with kids in England and “supposedly reflects their frustration and bitterness” with an economic system that ignored them—a trio of industry cogs had been lined up. And though the panelists displayed only a passing interest in the subject, in retrospect, they perfectly represented the ’70s dustbin of assumptions and ideas that helped spark the punk bonfire in the first place.

The cast: Bill Graham, the smug, scowling “rock impresario” who reigned over ’60s rock-concert promotion with ruthless glee; Los Angeles Times rock critic Robert Hilburn, whose beard, V-neck sweater, oxford shirt, and droning self-regard gave him the teeth-grittingly resigned aspect of a middle-school principal; and producer/songwriter/sinister wacko Kim Fowley, who Svengali’d the all-girl, proto-punk Runaways, and at the time of the show was jadedly hustling pop star Helen Reddy and Baltimore “arena rock” band Face Dancer.

Graham: “I don’t take lightly when I see a swastika, when I see somebody burning

FEBRUARY 24
Bassist Glen Matlock
leaves the Sex Pistols and
is replaced by Sid Vicious.
Manager Malcolm McLaren
puts out the story that
Matlock was sacked because
“he went on too long about
Paul McCartney.”

a Star of David, somebody comes out onstage in a Ku Klux Klan costume and makes fun of it. I think the danger is that a lot of people accept it as being funny.”

Hilburn: “Tom, the sociological part is pretty much restricted to England; that’s where the kids are really angry….Middle-class kids [in America] are pretty content; it’s a pretty conservative time for them now. And I don’t think they’re really going to respond to the safety-pin ethic.”

“What’s the safety-pin ethic?” queried Snyder.

Hilburn droned on: “When the Sex Pistols started out, they wore tattered clothes held together by safety pins, and it was an example of the unemployment rate.”

Perhaps because this was broadcast from California, nobody felt compelled to mention punk’s actual roots in New York (via the Velvet Underground, New York Dolls, and Patti Smith) and Detroit (via the Stooges and MC5). Or the fact that 1977 London’s miserable socioeconomic situation had nothing on New York’s death slide of arson, blackouts, looting, drugs, the Son of Sam serial-killing spree, a race- and gay-baiting mayoral campaign, and widely decried cutbacks of sanitation workers, firefighters, and police (whose union passed out “Welcome to Fear City” brochures at airports and bus terminals).

Regardless, a bewildered Snyder finally blurted out: “Why does punk have to be so mean?” Fowley, in lipstick, rouge, a tight orange suit and holding a flower, cavalierly prattled: “Because most of it isn’t entertaining or melodic, so why is there a good guy or bad guy in literature or art or anything? I don’t know the question or the answer. The Perils of Pauline, that guy with the mustache, was the first villain in entertainment in America, so maybe these guys are trying to be villains.”

Hilburn, obsessed with punk’s lack of commercial viability, concluded: “ Basically, it boils down, in its rawest form, to a kid with a guitar wanting to make a million dollars, and everyone else in music wants to, too. But the thing that punk says is that ‘I don’t even have to play the guitar.’ ”

Even stranger was a cameo by the Jam’s 19-year-old Paul Weller, in a natty yellow suit jacket, smoking intently and talking semantics: “Punk is a neon sign that sells commodities,” he murmured. “New wave is an attitude of oppressed youth.”

MARCH 9
Outside Buckingham Palace,
the Sex Pistols sign their
second record contract, this
time taking £ 50,000 ($86,000)
from A&M. The band then
wreak havoc at the label’s
office. Within a week, A&M
pays them £ 25,000 more to
end the deal. They eventually
sign with Virgin in the U.K.
and Warner Bros. in the U.S.

FEBRUARY 9
Performing outside the New
York City area for the first
time, Blondie begin a three-
night stand at the Whisky in
L.A. on a bill with Tom Petty
and the Heartbreakers. A
week later, they commence
a series of five shows at the
same club, opening for the
Ramones. Phil Spector, who
will later produce the
Ramones’ End of the Century
and later stand trial for mur-
der, attends one of the shows.

FEBRUARY 19
At the 19th annual
Grammy Awards, the
one-hit Starland Vocal Band
(“Afternoon Delight”) wins
Best New Artist.

>

APRIL 7
The Damned become the first
British punk group to play in
America, beginning a four-
night stand (with the Dead
Boys opening) at CBGB. The
New York Times describes the
show as a “yowling, scream-
ing onslaught” and “an outré
avant-garde experience.”

APRIL 8

The Clash’s first album,
released in the U.K., makes
no mention of the band’s
new drummer, Nicky
“Topper” Headon. The
front cover pictures Joe
Strummer, Mick Jones, and
Paul Simonon, while the
back credits drums to “Tory
Crimes,” a dig at former
(and future) drummer
Terry Chimes.