WE HAD A DEATH
PACT
I HAVE TO KEEP
MY HALF OF THE
BARGAIN.
PLEASE BURY ME
PTO

NEXT TO MY BABY.
BURY ME IN MY
LEATHER JACKET,
JEANS AND MOTOR
CYCLE BOOTS

GOODBYE

(Sid Vicious, suicide note)

As a person Malcolm McLaren didn’t impress me one bit. Nevertheless, he was gifted insofar as he didn’t seize opportunities, he created them. Anyone who can make the name Malcolm seem cool has to be respected, indeed anyone who proposed selling alcohol in public libraries demands respect.

By the time I met him (he ignored me while chatting to the girl I was with, which I didn’t hold against him, as I would’ve probably done the same) to judge by his clothes, he had assumed the role of a Conservative toff. That I can’t forgive him for.

He was a user and manipulator who didn’t care about the fates of the people he used.

But at least he understood the value of the Oscar Wilde quote: “There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” McLaren always made sure he was talked about.

I was a teenager in the 1970s and with music being dominated by moronic rock dinosaurs I will always be grateful to McLaren for his influence on music. He (and the Sex Pistols) blew music apart and it has never been the same again. If there is an afterlife he will have it in uproar already.

R.I.P. Malcolm Robert Andrew McLaren, impresario, conceptualist, born 22 January 1946; died 8 April 2010

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