Sex Pistols’ Glen Matlock hits Brisbane with Men of No Shame

HE WAS ejected from the Sex Pistols, purportedly for liking the Beatles. But he’s still a punk rocker at heart, and he’s here to tear up Brisbane.

IT SEEMS you can take the boy out of the Sex Pistols, but you can’t take the Sex Pistols out of the boy.

Glen Matlock was sacked for liking the Beatles, according to manager Malcolm McLaren, and replaced by someone who couldn’t play, but the bassist will always be a part of the infamous band.

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Since then, he’s reunited with his old sometime adversary, singer John Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten, for ­multiple Sex Pistols world tours. He’s also credited with co-writing several of the band’s best-loved songs. And he’s played with many greats including Iggy Pop and Faces and has many stories to share.

He’ll share some of those stories when he takes to the stage tonight with his old mate Slim Jim Phantom, of the Stray Cats, for the Men of No Shame tour. The pair were meant to be joined by guitarist Earl Slick, who played with David Bowie and John Lennon, but he had to cancel due to illness.

Nevertheless, Matlock and Phantom intend to create a racket. It won’t all be telling stories, he promises.

“You’re not coming to see the librarians,” he says. The trio have also recorded an album that will be released later in the year. Matlock was working in McLaren’s shop Let It Rock when the Pistols first formed.

“Originally it was a Teddy Boys shop called Let It Rock and then it became SEX,” he says. “It was kind of the epicentre for every weirdo and oddball in mid-’70s London. So Malcolm McLaren didn’t form us but we all formed in his shop, basically.”

It was an exciting time to be in London.

“There was another shop down the road called Granny Takes A Trip where The Rolling Stones got their clothes and Garry Glitter at another shop and (designer) Anthony Price and Bryan Ferry swanking down the road and we were just there taking the mickey out of them all. It gave us a good grounding in being a cocksure rock’n’roll band.”

Fronting that cocksure band was the infamous Johnny Rotten.

“He was fine,” says Matlock. “We had a quite workmanlike relationship initially. He kind of really changed when he got his boat race in the papers.” That’s Cockney rhyming slang for ‘face’, for those not in with the London lingo.

“I thought you knew all about rhyming slang in Australia. Down the frog and toad (road) where a bloke was wearing a nice whistle (whistle and flute, suit). I was just interrupted by my Richard calling up. Richard the Third, bird. As you can tell, I am a proper Londoner.”

While London may have been the hub of activity, half a world away, ­another punk band was tearing up stages. Matlock is well aware of the legacy of Brisbane band, The Saints, who released their debut album in 1977 before the Pistols.

“I haven’t seen Chris (Bailey) for a long, long while,” Matlock says. “But I knew him and I knew his sister, in fact my mate, who was also called Chris, married her. How’s that for a small world. I remember seeing The Saints really early on even before punk had really started in London. I saw them at the Marquee. (I’m) Stranded being the famous one.”

Matlock has met plenty of talented folk in his 40-year-career, not least of which was Earl Slick’s comrade, Bowie. They first met and hung out in 1979 when Matlock was working with Iggy Pop and crossed paths several times after. There’s one particular memory that stands out.

“It was about ’81 or ’82 and I got invited to see Talking Heads at Radio City Music Hall. I went backstage and I didn’t know anybody there apart from this woman called Coco Schwab, who was David’s assistant.

“She knew me through working with Iggy Pop and she said, hi Glen, David’s over there. He was just behind the curtain by the side of the stage sitting by himself watching the band but nobody in the audience could see him.

“She said, go and say hello and I said, oh, um … a bit shy, and she went go and say hello, and I said, I’ll get a drink and go and say hello, and I got a drink and she went, go and say hello, and I went oh, I don’t know, and she went and got him and he came and got me and he dragged me over to where he was sitting and he sang every word to every Talking Heads song in his best David Bowie voice.

“It was great and at the end of the night, he kind of did it deliberately I think, because as soon as the show was over he split but everybody backstage wanted to know who I was.”

He was Bowie’s old china (child plate, mate).

For more stories and great music head to Chardons Corner Hotel, Annerley, 8 o’clock tonight, moshtix.com.au or phone [phone].