wild beasts, and they like me. I can get closer to them. But I’m not stupid, either, and I don’t take idiot risks.

 

Would this be the most surprising thing for
people to discover about you?
It shouldn’t be, if they listen to my music. I have
the utmost respect for the living and an incred-
ible remorse about the death of anything. I have
two problems, though: flies and mosquitoes. In
[Megabugs,] the [Discovery] insect series, I went
in a cage with 6,000 of the damn buggers released
on me—punctured my eardrum, and I couldn’t
walk for a week.

 

What is your most misunderstood quality? I’m not evil, I’m not nasty, I’m not spiteful, I’m not jealous. I just like people to get me right. Any act of violence that comes from me is in direct retaliation. I’m Gandhi up to a point.

They mean it, maaaan: Vicious and Rotten at the Pistols’ final show, in San Francisco, 1978 (above); going ape on TV (below); with original bassist Matlock at London’s ¹⁰⁰ Club in ¹⁹⁷⁶

When you look back at what you did in 1977, do

your ideas and lyrics still feel relevant? What we did was as relevant then as it is now, because we did not lie. Period. I find it astounding that I live in a world where lying is conceived as the standard form. My songwriting is always about the things that directly affect me, and I’m constantly looking for an answer—like, “Problem” is about finding a solution. Don’t run away from things. But you also want to be able to waffle like the Bee Gees. I love the Bee Gees, but not “Stayin’ Alive.” I love their ’60s stuff. [Rapturously] I swoon in it.

“I’M NOT EVIL, I’M NOT NASTY, I’M
NOT SPITEFUL, I’M NOT JEALOUS.
I JUST LIKE PEOPLE TO GET ME RIGHT.”
Do you feel that the fashion element of
1977 may have overshadowed some of the
substance?

It ain’t what was made; it’s the way it was worn. Look at me. This [outfit] is fucking five dollars’ worth. And look, I’m wearing goldfish on my socks, and I’m quite happy. They’re little fishies, having fun swimming around my ankles. Am I supposed to not like that kind of stuff because I should be into skull and crossbones? Fuck off.

CLOCK WISE FROM TOP: CHRIS WALTER/ WIREIMAGE; RAY S TEVENSON/RE TNA

After refusing to appear at the Pistols’
induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,
you recently ended up there for a TV show.

Right, unfortunately, because of [being a judge on Fuse’s] Bodog Music Battle of the Bands in Cleveland. The irony was not lost on me; but in a weird way, it was delicious: They were bringing new bands that don’t have recording contracts to play live in this museum I’d already rejected.

Speaking of your TV work, ten years ago, you
went on Judge Judy.

Not willingly! I was accused of assaulting [touring] drummer [Robert Williams], a kung fu expert. [Laughs] And he’s doing me for assault, this black-belt fucking judo boy? But I’m not going to say a word. It took a long time to get to court.

You’ve called contemporary punks “coat

hangers.”
I think it’s about the clothes. And once you get into
that—the uniform—you’ve missed the point. It
ain’t nothing to do at all with what you wear. What
punk has become is such “a fascist regime.” “Ooh,
punks don’t wear this, punks don’t listen to that.”
Bollocks!

You were often surprisingly supportive and
encouraging of the bands during the competi-
tion. Do you think people expected you to be a
hatchet man?

Well, that would be very stupid, and it would show not much insight into what I’ve been doing these 30 years, which is to open doors, not just shut them in people’s faces. Well, there are some I’d love to slam it on. [Laughs]

Don’t you think these TV appearances—
as well as the one on the U.K. version of I’m a
Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!—are contradic-
tory, considering you made your career
skewering pop fluff?

You’d think so! But the point of I’m a Celebrity was to spend three weeks in the Australian forest and try to deal with nature with minimal food supplies. Fucking great fun, out there fighting monitor lizards. Nature likes me. I never knew this. But I can sit in incredibly dangerous situations with

Ultimately, what do you think is the Sex Pistols’
legacy?
Our album. Why the bloody hell haven’t we made
another? I don’t want to. We said enough. We’ve
done enough. There’s no point. But it’s worth
remembering, because we did it well, and that’s
something too few people do.

 

MORE AT SPIN.COM Read what else Mr. Rotten has to say at spin.com/1977