Page Seven
Photo Caption
Voodoo child: Sid holds on to his Auntie Sue and (left from top) Sid at Sex, October 1976;
Sid (in gold lam�) and Viv Albertine eye the Pistols at the Nashville, April 23, 1976; and
Sid and Viv at the 100 Club Festival, September 20, 1976.
Continued from Page Five
This development, according to Sid's mother, cut Sid to the quick. As a kid who thrived on
what psychologists term "negative attention", it's quite possible he deeply resented being
left on the sidelines - especially since he was by then as much a fixture as Rotten at
Malcolm McLaren's legendary Sex boutique at 430 King's Road, and arguably the more obvious
frontman.
Now living at New Court, he was taking increasing amounts of speed, which made him
unpredictable and aggressive. Jah Wobble remembers Sid's "fuck you" carapace hardening. He
began picking fights in pubs which he knew he'd lose. Perplexingly non-sexual, he still had
no girlfriend, casual or otherwise. "I don't think he knew how to talk to girls," argues
Baess. "But I don't think he was gay. He preferred attention from older, maternal figures."
For Mike, one incident more than any other illustrates Sid's transition from crazy, fun-
loving idiot-savant to nasty bastard. "A mate of mine called Chris had a party in Oxford," he
says. "Tis was in October 1975. A load of us went up by coach. God knows how Sid paid. He
brought along some powder he tired to pass off as speed. It was actually [the domestic
cleaning agent] Vim. Some guy bought some, took it and had to be taken to hospital. They had
to pump his chest to revive him. That wasn't funny. That was horrible. I was there - it
happened."
Soon after, Mike bumped into Sid one night in the dingy alleyway behind New Court.
Intimidating and speeding, Sid boasted that he'd just mugged an old lady, then produced a
flick-knife and a small leather lady's purse full of money to prove it.
Was it a wind-up? Was Sid toying with his old pal? Baess doesn't think so. He was genuinely
scared by Sid's threatening manner. It seemed that, when he was on drugs (chiefly main-lined
speed), which was increasingly often, Sid no longer could differentiate between what most of
us would describe as amusing delinquent behavior and what are transparently unacceptable,
cowardly acts of violence. It was around this time that he acquired the named Sid Vicious.
Depending on whom you believe, this was either after Lydon's pet hamster or Beverley's love
for Syd Barrett. Whichever, each new name change seemed to signal not so much a reinvention
as another incremental step towards his self-obliteration>
While researching this piece, Mojo arranged to discuss Sid's case with a forensic
psychiatrist attached to the famous Priory clinic. (He cannot be named for confidentiality
reasons.) Unsurprisingly, he sees classic patterns in Sid's behavior. No father figure,
junkie mum, itinerant childhood, breadline existence. It is hardly the foundation of a
content and fulfilled personality, he says. He also postulates that when someone seeks
negative attention, they often have to up the ante to generate the same intensity of
response. "This leads them to behave ever more outrageously."
Page Eight
Photo Caption
Sid and the Pistols, Brunel University, December 16, 1977 by Mike Baess. "A moment of abject
terror. He aimed his bass at me with a crazed zombie look. He wasn't pleased to see his old
mucker from Kingsway College."
Page Caption
"Sid looked mean obnoxious. He wanted to be in a band. We all did." Viv Albertine
Continued from Page Seven
This, indeed, is exactly what happened with Sid throughout 1976, when the spotlight cast on
the Sex Pistols, and Lydon in particular, threatened to leave him in the shadows; something
his ego would not allow. His impulse to command centre-stage revealed itself, quite
literally, at the Pistols' gig at the Nashville on April 23. Kate Simon's photos show Sid,
resplendent in gold lam� Elvis jacket, poised to join the stage-front punch-up started by
Vivienne Westwood. As the Pistols' Number 1 fan, he's standing so close to the stage as to
be almost on it.
By the summer, the hottest that century, he'd taken steps to form his own group, the
wonderfully named Flowers Of Romance. With his instinct for originality and striking
imagery, he formulated the idea of an all-girl backing band with him as frontman. The
initial line-up featured Sarah Hall on bass, Viv Albertine on guitar and Palmolive on drums
(the latter pair would go on to form The Slits). The group rehearsed in the stuffy,
claustrophobic basement of 42 Orsett Terrace, the squat where Palmolive, a Spanish emigr�e,
lived with her then boyfriend Joe Strummer.
"I'd seen Sid at the pub gig with the big fight," recalls Palmolive, who's long reverted to
her real name, Paloma, phoning from her home in America. "He looked really mean and was
determined to get noticed by being obnoxious. He wanted to be in a band - we all did. His
voice wasn't very good but his strength was his punk image. He could be funny, but he was
also unfriendly and moody."
The Flowers Of Romance rehearsed three or four times, attempting Ramones covers, Sid
originals and also a number by the singer's favourite crooner, Frank Sinatra - possibly My
Way. Little headway was made, mostly because Sid couldn't be bothered to apply himself to
the job in hand. He was lazy and got bored quickly. One evening after practice, he and
Paloma fell into conversation about politics. "He made a statement about liking Nazis and
being racist," she says. "I told him why I disagreed with his point of view. Soon after that
he kicked me out of the band."
Paloma accepts that Sid may simply have been acting provocatively. It wasn't unusual for him
to say idiotic things for effect. But he also clearly shared punk's fascination with the
Third Reich and Nazi imagery. "My perception was that he was a kid who was childish and
rebelling against everything," she says. "I think the whole thing with the hate and anger [
of punk] was it took him further than he wanted to go. There was a dark force there that was
pushing him on. We were all playing with it, we liked to show off and look mean, but you have
to be careful you're not taken in by it."
In September, Sid was co-opted to play drums in the fledgling Siouxsie And The Banshees,
hastily assembled from the Pistols' entourage to kick off the infamous punk festival at the
100 Club. In under a week, Vicious was accelerated from punk fan to bona fide group member.
This clearly wasn't enough attention. The following evening, while watching The Damned, he
threw a glass tankard against a pillar, blinding a girl in one eye. He was arrested by the
police and beaten up. In one moment of gross stupidity, Sid became as famous to music press
readers as his pals Johnny Rotten. It was instant celebrity from stupidity - a premonition of
our times.
The 100 Club incident was to become his making, but also, according to some, his breaking.
During his subsequent week-long incarceration at Ashford Remand Centre, he suffered from
nightmares and attacks of paranoia. He forbade his mother to visit him, lest the other
inmates - presumably genuine hard-cases - think him a mummy's boy. Vivienne Westwood rather
ill-advisedly sent the 19-year-old a copy of Helter Skelter, the story of the Manson
Murders. Isolated and scared, Sid grew another outer layer.
On his release, Vicious bedded down at The Clash's rehearsal space in Camden Town. He
discovered he'd become a kind of punk superstar - and martyr. Still desperate to front a
group, he attempted to revive The Flowers Of Romance. But by now many of his pals, including
Jah Wobble, found it virtually impossible to penetrate his goofy-obnoxious exterior. He was
edging towards his final phase as a heroically confused and misanthropic lunatic.
The theatre for his complete self-destruction was presented in March 1977 when he was
invited to join the Sex Pistols following Glen Matlock's departure. Back in Tunbridge Wells,
Jah Wobble is finishing off his marinated steak ribs. "I remember thinking, That's really a
bad move!" laughs Jah Wobble. "I can't wait to see how this works out! But it wasn't funny.
There was a darkness about McLaren, that manipulation... it wasn't good.
"Walking around here tonight, I got a real sense of Sid," he adds, quietly. "I never had
that same connection with him that I had with Lydon. But for the first time in, what, 25 or
30 years I got a twinge.
Y'know, Sid was our mate."
-----------------------------------
Thanks to Chris Townsend, Mark Paytress, Alan Parker, Johnny Green, Rat Scabies, Richard
Nother and Andy Neill.
Continue to A Star Is Born! --->>>
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