Back in the late Seventies, John Lydon was the real thing, arguably supplanting David Bowie to become the coolest famous person in the UK and therefore the world…
As management goes, it was typical of him. When he wasn’t taking me on photo shoots to Hawaii or to meetings in the CEO’s office, he was taking his gold Dunhill to copy drafts in front of a roomful of sniggering colleagues.
Karate Priest… command the room like some handsome bastard (de)generation of Can and Edgard Varese.
Future Get Down’s eponymous dance party is teleported to the here-and-now with a ballroom blitz of sequenced cyber-pop humanised by a New Romantic lyricism.
Sebastian believed in the future. Not as an utopian ideal but as good design, as if lives were mapped out in neat diagrams like his favourite Dorling Kindersley reference books.
…the British mandate radiated outward from the grimy mainland sprawl of Kowloon to embrace the New Territories in a fifty kilometre market garden kill zone.
Alongside the obvious Fluxus and Musique Concrete comparisons, it is rather like The Raincoats jamming with This Heat, fronted by Farquhar-favourite Martin Kippenberger