- Music
- 30 Aug 04
It goes without saying that Glen Matlock has already sealed his place in rock lore as the melodic conscience of The Sex Pistols.
It goes without saying that Glen Matlock has already sealed his place in rock lore as the melodic conscience of The Sex Pistols (as emphasised in the endearingly bitchy press release for On Something), allegedly kicked out of the band due to his weakness for Lennon/McCartney-penned pop tunes.
Nearly 30 years later, that same melodic sensibility is still in evidence in his latest project, which sees Matlock round up a motley crew of collaborators for a typically messy and uproarious punk/mod mash-up that the bassist himself describes as “The Ramones meets The Small Faces”. Indeed the overall tenor of the album is remarkably close to those contemporary Brit-rock outlaws The Libertines, with Matlock’s combination of strutting wideboy attitude and decidedly Mockney lyrical flourishes (sample song title: ‘The Swanker’) proving that the punk flame continues to burn brightly in the current generation of indie whippersnappers.
A couple of months ago, Hope Of The States singer Sam Herlihy enthused about Pete Doherty’s songwriting abilities, mentioning that his unique turn of phrase hadn’t been heard “since an episode of Grangehill”. Well, on the likes of ‘Piece Of The Action’, ‘Be Somebody’ and ‘OK Kiddo’ – which all charge from the speakers with the fury and intent of a squadron of storm-troopers – Matlock seems intent on reminding the class of 2004 where they nicked their moves from in the first place.
The pace is consolidated throughout with a string of memorable tunes like ‘Suck It And See’ and ‘Playboy Blues’, and the overall effect is similar to the famous incident in the late ‘70s when a hockey mask and industrial overalls-clad John Cale – keen to demonstrate to the punk fraternity just exactly who had the patent on nihilistic schlock tactics – dismembered a dead chicken onstage in London.
Obviously the cultural relevance of this record next to Never Mind The Bollocks is roughly equivalent to the relationship between Jeffrey Archer and James Joyce, but there’s still plenty of life left in the old dog yet.