The Sex Pistols’ chaotic tour of America in 1978 has always divided opinion. For some observers – and even participants – it was a disaster, “the worst thing you’ve ever seen”, as John Lydon said at one show, and “a complete circus” as Steve Jones remembered in his autobiography. But others were enthused. American critics raved about the shows, while Rory Gallagher was at the infamous final show in San Francisco. Deciding that “this is as close to Eddie Cochran as you’re going to see”, he promptly abandoned the album he’d recorded with Elliot Mazer and regrouped with a new, ass-kicking power trio.
These shows have long been available in bootlegs of variable quality, but now three of the seven concerts receive an official release: Atlanta, Dallas and San Francisco – the first and last dates of the tour, and one from the very middle. These are initially released in stages on vinyl – red, white and blue respectively, with one coming out each month in February, March and April. Then all three concerts are released together in a 3CD boxset.
The Pistols hit the States like Apocalypse Now on a tour bus. Lydon had had enough, Vicious craved attention and heroin in equal measure, while Paul Cook and Jones were fed up with their bandmates but ready to see where Malcolm McLaren’s rollercoaster would take them next. The tour was meant to start in Pennsylvania before heading to Chicago, Cleveland and Virginia but these had to be cancelled because of visa issues; the seven remaining dates were strung across the South, where the Pistols would meet an audience composed of fellow freaks as well as local meatheads and rubberneckers, who Sid routinely dismissed as “cowboys”.
Pelted with objects by the hostile audience, the band responded physically and verbally, all of which got in the way of the music. The first show of the tour was in Atlanta, where Peter Buck was in the audience, at least until he was ejected after one song. “New York” is the first of several disasters as instruments drop out, equipment fails, and timing and tunings go to pot. But Cook and Jones’s brutal muscle and Lydon’s more slippery charisma remain enthralling, pushing through the wince-inducing moments. As for Vicious, the bass is barely discernible, but his audience-goading is essential.
For all its faults, this is the best sounding of the three shows – perhaps sourced from bootlegs but the origin isn’t clear – with great moments like a wild “Problems” and a cracking “Pretty Vacant”, consistently their strongest live tune. The closing number, “Anarchy In The UK”, might be good, but comes from a completely different sound source, recorded somewhere in the middle of the crowd. It’s enough to leave Atlanta screaming for more; one audience member can be heard telling a friend “I’m blown away” as the tape continues to roll and an upcoming show by The B-52s is announced to the departing crowd over the PA.
Five days later, following brutal shows in Memphis, San Antonio (the legendary “shoot-out”, still frustratingly unavailable through official channels) and Baton Rouge, the band were in Dallas, at a club once owned by Jack Ruby. The recording begins with a gloriously over-the-top radio advert, but the show is more subdued, at least until Sid decides to call the crowd “a fucking bunch of cowboys” and is knocked to the floor during “Holidays In The Sun” – to Lydon and Jones’s obvious delight – playing the rest of the show with a broken nose. That spurs the band into a frantic “No Feelings”, followed by a thundering “Pretty Vacant” and “Anarchy In The UK”, rewritten as “Anarchy In The USA”. This time the band return for an encore, playing a jagged, echoey, PIL-inducing “No Fun”. The sound is muddier than Atlanta, but the strange energy is fascinating.
Following a show in Tulsa – where a hole in the wall punched by Sid is still framed backstage – the Sex Pistols limped into San Francisco for their final performance. The gig was filmed and widely bootlegged as Gun Control, and while this recording is initially murky, the sound quickly improves as the band deliver a fine “I Wanna Be Me” and then bludgeon the audience with “EMI”. Widely dismissed as a disaster, the concert is far better than its reputation, even with occasional equipment malfunctions and Lydon’s unpredictability – one moment clearly bored and disheartened, the next at his seething, charmless best.
The show ends with “No Fun” and Lydon’s famous exit lane – “ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” – probably the greatest onstage quip since Lennon’s “rattle your jewellery”. Within days Lydon had left the band, and the Sex Pistols were, effectively, kaput. Disintegration has rarely sounded so compelling.
When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission. Here’s how it works.