Lydon: A revolutionary, an icon, a provocateur
LEGENDARY lyricist John Lydon is not someone who appreciates being censored.
As frontman of Sex Pistols and Public Image Ltd, he caused his fair share of political earthquakes during a unique and extraordinary career.
From the mischievous glint which still twinkles brightly in his eyes, you sense he has relished every single moment.
The man they call Johnny Rotten has been dubbed many things – a revolutionary, an icon, a provocateur and an immortal.
He became a poster boy for the cultural revolution which transformed music for good.
And he’s not finished yet. This year, he’s heading back on the road for a fresh leg of his acclaimed spoken word show ‘I Could Be Wrong, I Could Be Right,’ stopping off in East Renfrewshire along the way.
Tickets for John’s show at Eastwood Park Theatre on Saturday, June 15, have already sold out.
And he promises to “tell it how it is” during a question-and-answer session with the Giffnock audience, when absolutely nothing will be off limits.
This will be John Lydon, live and untamed.
“I always find it’s far more fun just telling the truth than being a miserable bleedin’ philosopher,” he said.
“This is a format which suits me down to the ground, to be honest, because if there’s one thing you can guarantee, it’s that I’m never gonna run out of words.
“I’ve basically spent my whole life being censored, so this is me, honest and unscripted. It’s my thoughts, in my lingo, right or wrong, straight from the horse’s mouth.”
A lot of incredibly turbulent water has passed under the bridge since the last leg of John’s spoken word tour.
He has lost two of the most important people in his life – his beloved wife of more than 40 years, Nora, and his long-time tour manager, Johnny ‘Rambo’ Stevens. He also had a crack at Eurovision.
“I just can’t get over the loss of Nora, I don’t think I ever will,” said John, who cared full-time for his wife in her later years as she battled Alzheimer’s.
“It’s hard at night and I don’t want to throw myself into creating more music right now, which would just be a series of ‘woe is me’ misery songs. That’s not the right thing to do.”
The reason John threw his hat into the Eurovision ring last year in a failed bid to represent Ireland was entirely down to Nora.
The poignant and personal song Hawaii was inspired by one of the couple’s favourite holidays and was, in his words, “as close to accurately portraying the situation” as he could get.
“I’m very glad I was able to perform the song on Irish TV so I could show it to Nora before she died,” he said. “It might not have been chosen but it did put a big smile on her face and she was very proud of me.
“But I’ll never sing that song again because it’s just too heartbreaking. I just can’t go there, it was so deeply personal.”
John said that, although his head was “full of cotton wool” when Nora died, happy memories from their 40-plus years together are starting to come back now.
“And then I lost Rambo, my alltime best mate and manager,” he added. “There never has been, and never will be, anyone remotely like him. He lived life to the full and enriched the lives of so many. “I’ll talk about Rambo on stage.” Those who head along to John’s show in East Renfrewshire are being told to expect “a good time to be had by all.”
He added: “I do sometimes find the weight of live performance shockingly overwhelming but the fears and phobias are the very things that power me on to do what I do.
“I like to think I’ve always been able to converse fluently in a down-to-earth way, not waxing lyrical with a load of toff talk.
“Once the ice is broken, it paves the way for a bloody good chat.
“The thing I love about this show is that I don’t know exactly what I’m going to be doing from one venue to the next.
“You turn up to lots of shows which are very rehearsed and formatted but that’s never been my way in life.
“I like that ‘in at the deep end’ approach. That’s how to learn to swim. That’s what the Sex Pistols was. There was no game plan, no greedy ambitions, which is why it was so excellent – ahead of its time, or maybe miles behind, depending on your point of view.
“This show’s the same. I’ll go on, on a wing and a prayer, and see what happens, do what feels right, and whatever questions I’m asked, I will give an honest answer.
“That’s usually the recipe for a fantastic evening. It’s like going into an atmospheric old pub for the first time and discovering that everyone in there is a mate.”
So, will the Giffnock show be all speech and no music?
“Well, not completely,” said John. “I’ve been known to break out into a bit of karaoke on occasion and start an ABBA singalong and no two nights turn out the same way.
“This time I’m thinking I might go down the Alvin Stardust route. I think some of his classics need dusting off, don’t you? Who doesn’t love a bit of My Coo-CaChoo?
“This is what life should be, throwing point and purpose out the window and just enjoying it. Do what you feel.
“Everything is a gift. It’s just that sometimes it can take time to find that out.”