Childhood trauma.
We can go down the silly route of monetising childhood trauma, us on so-called display, playing out some sad dancing near the edge of the abyss cosplay Hindley Brady Throbbing Gristle student cult Crowley pastiche play….or we can do the ultimate act of punk, resolve childhood trauma, see the consequences of a good life not lived – Curtis, Vicious, Cobain – GP Orridge says they were the last person to speak to the former.
Don’t. Believe. You.
Lydon pulls his big stapled tartan trousers up. Releases Metal Box. Gets his head around (not over) the premature death of his mother. Realises the futility and tragedy of the loss of his friend earlier that year. It still hurts him now. Of course. Always will. Marries a soulmate. Pours his love into her and so reaps. Does not give a fuck what others think. Supports Trump. I mean what did people really expect? That’s punk my friends. True rebellion in not being defined always by the past. Not even 2 years from Anarchy. Hanging around rooms crying over milk spilt long before you had the means or were old enough to clean it up is not a great idea. It’s not your fault. It is tragic and I take no joy in writing this. But come on. Do it. Choose life in the words of an immortal Renton. The life now. In this moment.
We can grow up and grow some. With help. Stick it in a Metal Box and it will always be there. Hard. Impervious. Everlasting. We owe it to ourselves.
Devon Record Club 