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Matt, for you and the other delicate types listening to this, I should just say, this episode contains some strong language. Oh, man. Do you want me to write them down first so you can say them along? Yeah, go on. Alice! I beg your pardon? Outrageous. What are you doing? I'm just calling you by your first name. Is that a problem? Yes, I say hi, Matt. You say hi, Alice. I say something funny. We start the episode. Oh, I see what you mean.
You're starting this one. Oh, so sorry. I presume you're really unwell or drunk or worse. I'll put it down to you being in a tizz. All three. I'm unwell, I'm drunk, but I get so excited about these things that I just kind of like to crack on. Sure. Shall we begin? I'm in trouble now, aren't I? Shall we have a word outside? It's the 12th of October, 1978. Room 100, Chelsea Hotel, New York.
Sid Vicious sits on the bed. He feels cold, yet he's sweating. His heart races, but he can't move. Nancy is dead in the bathroom, and a cop is standing in front of him, asking him questions. "Who is she? You know her? Is she a groupie?" Sid shakes his head. He tries to speak. He wants to say, "It's Nancy. My Nancy. The only person I've ever cared about. The only person who ever loved me." But the words won't come out.
The cop leans in closer. He looks at Sid's clammy face. "What have you taken?" Sid shakes his head. He has no idea. As the room fills with flashing lights, a feeling of overwhelming guilt and shame washes over Sid. He wishes it was him on the bathroom floor. He wishes he was dead. He starts to shake and then to cry. As the tears stream down his face, the cop kneels down in front of him. "Did you do this?" Sid looks at the man's face. He nods his head.
The cop sighs. Why? Why? Sid knows why. He's always known. It's the reason why he's always felt so inadequate. The reason why he took drugs. He looks at the cop and answers. I did it because I'm a dog. I'm a dirty dog. The cop handcuffs Sid and arrests him for Nancy's murder. From Wondery, I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. And this is British Scandal. British Scandal
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essentially unravelling. It was all going to pot. He was supposed to be looking after the band. He couldn't even do that on a basic level. They didn't even have anywhere to live. He tried to kidnap Sid's girlfriend, Nancy, and just generally the band was falling to pieces. Yes, and what started perhaps as a charming anarchic rebellion became something far more sinister and nasty. And his behaviour is aggressive and
And this whole cool punk edginess is now just something a lot darker and weirder. Well, let me tell you something, Matty boy. Oh, from that glint in your eye, I think things are going to turn out for the better now. And I think there's going to be a beautiful, happy ending where everyone lives together in a beautiful, sunny meadow. Oh, sweet, sweet Matt Ford. Sweet, innocent Matt Ford. No, no, no, no, no. This is episode four. This is Sid and Nancy.
Seven months earlier, March 1978, Paris. It's just before midday. Malcolm is in his hotel room, and he's fed up. He doesn't know how long he's been in the French capital. It's probably days, but it feels like weeks.
He's here with Sid, who's supposed to be recording a punk version of the old crooner classic, My Way, for the French record label, Barclay Records. So far, there have been two scheduled sessions to record Sid's vocals, but Sid hasn't turned up to either, leaving a group of French musicians and engineers high and dry. The reason for Sid's absence? Since they arrived in Paris, Sid and Nancy have been holed up in their hotel room taking heroin.
I'm telling you, get a ham sandwich on room service. I can't keep saying this. Oh, you think they've got the heroin? Do you think they've dialed zero? And I'm not sure. I mean, maybe, maybe. Can I have some heroin, please? And can we have crisps or anything? OK, yes, some shoestring fries and a large Coke. Malcolm grabs the telephone. He's going to call Sid and let him have it with both barrels. He's had enough of this. He needs Sid to listen. He really is his only hope now.
Since John quit the band in January, Steve and Paul have recorded two songs with Ronnie Biggs in Rio. The plan is now to reposition Sid as the lead singer and release one of the Ronnie Biggs songs as a double A-side with Sid's version of My Way. Nancy picks up the phone. She sounds drowsy. She and Sid are probably still in bed, which means it'll be another hour before he's in a fit state to leave for the studio. Malcolm lets her have it.
Listen, you tell that useless junkie boyfriend of yours that he's supposed to be in the recording studio now. If he doesn't get there today, then he's finished. You hear me? He's finished. Malcolm slams down the phone and lights a cigarette. He's really starting to despise Sid. Since John quit, everything has begun to fall apart. John has hired a solicitor. He's written to Malcolm asking to see the accounts. To make matters worse, Malcolm's heard that Virgin has signed John to an eight-album deal.
If John and Richard Branson start working together against him, this could have major implications for Malcolm. His enemies are circling, and the only way to fend them off is to keep what's left of the band together. Malcolm grabs his coat. He's going to have to go to Sid's room and get him up. He sighs and heads for the door. But just as he reaches it, Sid, dressed in nothing but his underwear and a pair of biker boots, comes flying through. He runs at Malcolm, who screams for help.
But Sid isn't listening. He pushes Malcolm up against the wall and holds up a piece of paper in front of his face. You sign this. You hear me? You sign this. Malcolm, in a panic, tries to grasp what's going on. What is it? I don't know what it is. It says you're no longer my manager. You sign that and then I'll go to the recording studio. Malcolm shakes his head. I'm not signing anything. Then I'll make you.
Sid pushes Malcolm onto the bed and starts to kick him. His boots jab into his side. Malcolm screams for him to stop. All right, all right, stop, stop. I'll sign, I'll sign. I mean, it worked. I mean, it's one way of doing business, isn't it? It's a heck of a negotiation tactic. They never tell you this on The Apprentice. Sid grabs a pen from the bedside table. He clumsily thrusts the paper at Malcolm, who signs it. Sid, with the paper in his hands, starts to head back through the broken door. As he leaves, he turns back to Malcolm and mumbles...
"'Nancy's my manager now, okay?' "'Uh-oh.' Malcolm nods. He daren't tell Sid what he thinks of that idea. With difficulty, Malcolm pulls himself up. Sid and Nancy are so entwined, they're like partners in crime. Whatever it is that holds them together, it's clear it can't be broken. He's tried and failed. Holding his side, he reaches for the phone. Even if Malcolm can get Sid in the studio today, any hopes of replacing John long-term have just been destroyed."
He needs to go home. He'll have to think of another way of keeping the wolves from the door. Could just pay them, Malcolm. That seems to be what they want, a fair wage. Now, now, Matt, with your crazy ideas and your madcap schemes. It's August 1978, New York City. A beautiful summer's day.
Nancy, hand in hand with Sid, walks along Park Avenue South in Manhattan. She looks up at the blue sky and smiles. She's back in town and it feels good. I love New York City. You can get a slice of pizza for 99 cents. It was probably like 10 cents back in 1978. That was the heyday, wasn't it? Do that instead of heroin. Sid and Nancy are on their way to Max's. It's a punk club where all the cool bands have played, like the New York Dolls and Iggy.
It's where Nancy is hoping to get Sid a gig. Since they moved to New York a week ago, Nancy has been managing Sid both professionally and personally. She's going to be much better at this than Malcolm. Malcolm, the man who kidnapped her. The man she hates. So far, she's found Sid a backing band, a place to live. They now have a room at the Chelsea Hotel on 7th Avenue. And crucially, she's found them both a methadone clinic. Since relocating to New York, Sid and Nancy are off heroin.
Their days in London are over and this is their fresh start. I mean to be fair she's done a fantastic job. In a week! That's incredible! If she was a football manager you'd be like, "This guy's the best in the world!" Nancy pushes the door of Max's and heads down the stairs. She looks at Sid. He seems dozy and his face has become very thin. She fixes his hair and strokes his arm, reminds him of how to behave. "Now remember Sid, let me do the talking."
This is what you do to me at British Scandal meetings. Matt, you just sit back. You just look pretty and sort your hair out. I spit on my hand and flatten your fringe down. Nancy takes a seat at the bar. It's weird being here during the daytime. It makes her feel uncomfortable, but she's determined to get a good deal for Sid and she won't take any nonsense. The manager appears and looks Nancy up and down. Today, she's dressed in a see-through cobweb dress, boots and bare legs.
He seems to be looking at her underwear. "You sure he can play?" Nancy is insulted. She pulls at her skirt. "Of course he can play. You know his song, right? 'My Way'?" "That was huge in England. It sold more than 'God Save the Queen.' He's way better than Johnny." "Then why isn't the rest of the band here?" "Sith's got a new band. The Sex Pistols are yesterday's news." The manager relents. It's worth a punt. If nothing else, an appearance by an ex-Sex Pistol will have novelty value.
How about September 7th? Back outside, Nancy dances down the street. She grabs Sid and hugs him. She did it. They did it. Sid and Nancy have arrived. They're going to take Manhattan. I don't want to be the harbinger of doom. But I think if they do take Manhattan, it might only be for a short while. Like an afternoon. An afternoon. But what an afternoon. Hey, how many of us get to take Manhattan for an afternoon? It's the 7th of September, 1978. Max's...
Sid waits backstage. He wears black trousers, a black leather belt and a thick chain around his neck. Tonight, his job is simple. He's got to go out there and make a big impression. As his band tune up, he watches them. He's got two ex-members of the New York Dolls and Mick Jones from The Clash on guitar. Now there's a guy who knows what he's doing. Yes, because he's a professional musician and not a bank robber. At least he's learning. Sid is both impressed and envious.
But as he tries to psych himself up, Nancy barges in. She's throwing her arms around, shouting and complaining about the behavior of the music press out front. They think they can just march in here, do what they like. I decide who comes to see you, not them. I'm your manager. Sid tries to block Nancy out. She can't be reasoned with when she gets like this, and it really winds him up. I'm doing my breathing exercises. Oh, biggity, biggity, biggity.
It's important that he stays calm. He must do his best, but Nancy just won't stop yelling. He tries shouting at her, but it just makes things worse. Mick and the rest of the band look on, worried. As Sid takes to the stage, some of the audience heckle him. The New York Dolls! Sid pulls at his hair. He needs to block out the noise, but it's not easy. Since he's stopped using heroin, he's found it harder to silence the destructive thoughts in his head.
The thoughts that tell him that he's not good enough, that the only reason he was in the Sex Pistols was because he was John's mate, that he's nothing but a fan. But then Mick Jones plays the opening chords of Search and Destroy by the Stooges, and Sid feels the sound taking over. He leans into the mic, his body sways and twists. He's gonna do this. He's gonna be amazing. For an afternoon. A few days later, Chelsea Hotel, New York City.
Nancy is pacing the room, smoking. She's agitated. She's been trying to get hold of someone at Warner's. Gets Sid a meeting, but the record company won't return her calls. She wants to go down there and sort things out. Yell and scream at them for not immediately signing Sid to their label. But Sid won't stop pestering her to go with him to the methadone clinic.
After Sid played Max's, she'd expected him to be in demand. But the offers haven't exactly come flooding in. Of course not. It's just played one gig. You can't go, he played a room in a pub last night. Why aren't you guys biting his hand off? What she really needs to do is get out there and hustle. Get Sid more gigs. Force people to listen. But if they don't get their methadone today, they'll start to withdraw.
What did she think it was going to involve?
Oh, Sid, it can't be that hard. It's a few Excel spreadsheets, a few train tickets here and there. It's Sid Vicious, like she's in a relationship with him. She kicks her shoes off and pulls her legs up close to her chest. If she makes herself into a little ball, makes herself really small, the anger will go away. That's what she used to do when she was a little girl. She'd sit on her bed for hours staring at the walls, a feeling of fury burning in her heart.
But then Sid starts pulling at her. He's begging her to come with him to the clinic. He's desperate. She kicks Sid away, shouts at him and screams. Why can't he leave her alone? She grabs the lamp from beside the bed and throws it at him. It smashes against the wall, just missing Sid's head by inches. Sid pays her back by hitting her. Oh, man. Nancy's eyes fill with tears. Sid says he's sorry, but she pushes him away. She feels depressed and unloved.
She needs her mum. Then she has an idea. Maybe what she and Sid need is a break, a holiday, time away from this hotel room, the methadone clinic, the crazy energy of New York. Maybe then things will get better. September 1978, New Jersey. Nancy is getting off the train from New York. She's in high spirits. She can't wait to see her mum and dad again. It's been forever.
As soon as she steps onto the platform, she spots them. She puts her hand in the air and waves frantically. "Mom, I'm here! I'm here!" Nancy's mom turns around. When she sees Nancy, she gasps. Nancy can't help noticing. She pulls at her torn leather jacket, zips it up to hide the mucky t-shirt she's wearing underneath. She's been looking forward to this, but now she feels uncomfortable and weird.
She glances around for the one person who'll understand. The one person who gives her reassurance. Sid. Sid, wearing jeans, his biker boots, a leather jacket and his studded collar and cuffs, is trailing behind. It's awkward enough meeting your girlfriend's parents at the best of times. You always think, oh, have I ironed my shirt? Obviously, Sid didn't worry about such things. But turning up covered in like a studded necklace. This is Sid.
Sid stretches his arm out and shakes hands. Nancy's mum smiles kindly. Hello, Sid. Hello, mum. Can I just say that's weird? Really weird. Meeting your girlfriend's mum and calling her mum. Not okay. I think even after you've been together for years and years, it's really strange to call a partner's parents by mum or dad. Because... They're not. What are you suggesting?
Sid gives a shy smile. Nancy grins. Sid can be so sweet, and she can tell her mum likes him. This trip is going to be fine. It's going to be lovely. It's going to be just what she needs. When they get back to her parents' house, Nancy's brother and sister are there. Her mum cooks steak on the barbecue in the garden. Sid tells Nancy's mum it's the best meal he's ever eaten. Nancy kisses him. She's proud of him. She tells everyone how rich Sid is, how successful, how they're both stars in London.
She tells them about the methadone program and how she's now Sid's manager. Her parents smile and nod. They seem happy for her. But later, she overhears her brother and sister talking about Sid. And then her parents tell her they've booked them into a hotel for the night. So, we're not staying here? No, honey, we thought it best if you had your own place. Nancy wanted to spend the night in her old room. But she knows her parents don't trust her.
They've witnessed a lot over the years, and they clearly think she hasn't changed. Later that day, Nancy pulls her bags out of her dad's car and looks up at the Holiday Inn. It looks all right, but it's not home. Her mom helps her and Sid get up to their room. She's kind and patient, but this isn't how Nancy thought this would go. Her heart aches. She wants so much to turn things around, but she just can't seem to do it. Life feels like a mountain that's too hard to climb.
When it's time to leave a few days later, Nancy's dad takes her and Sid back to the station. Nancy sits in the back seat. She looks out of the car window. She passes all of her old haunts. Whatever she came here for, she didn't find it. Half awake and half asleep, she says to no one in particular, "I'm gonna die very soon. Before my 21st birthday. I won't live to be 21. I'm never gonna be old. I've already lived a whole lifetime.
I'm going out in a blaze of glory. On the 12th of October 1978, Nancy is found dead under the sink in the bathroom in room 100 of the Chelsea Hotel. She's discovered by Sid with a knife in her side. The circumstances around her death will always be a mystery. But the next day, Sid is arrested for her murder.
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October the 12th, London, Malcolm's offices. Malcolm puts his head in his hands. He's just put the telephone down to a reporter from the Post. The reporter told him that Nancy is dead and Sid has been arrested for her murder. He fumbles for his address book. He has to call a lawyer for advice, call Sid's mum. Then he has to catch a plane to New York. Someone needs to help Sid and it's going to have to be Malcolm.
Just this morning, he spent the day looking at footage of Sid performing My Way on stage in Paris. As he descended the backlit stairs dressed in a white dinner jacket and biker boots, he looked beautiful, iconic even. Malcolm's heart goes out to that young man right now. He has to help. Even when he's trying to do good, it always feels quite superficial.
Nancy's dead, and that should be enough of a motivation, not the fact that he looks nice in a dinner jacket. Yeah, the nostalgia doesn't feel quite right, does it? No. Once Malcolm gets to New York, he goes straight to the courtroom. He's just in time to see Sid being arraigned. Sid looks terrified and pale in the dark. His head hangs as he's charged with second-degree murder. Before he's taken away, his bail is set at $50,000.
Malcolm holds up his holdall and waves it at the lawyers. If he pretends it's loaded with cash, maybe he can give the impression that he can guarantee bail. But it's merely grandstanding.
I mean, that is one of the worst plans I've ever heard. I've got a load of money in this bag. All right, have you? Ah, no, it's empty. Sorry. Don't check yet. Just give me Sid and I'll just push it along the floor. But what if it was full of money? Then you would have to let him out. It just shows you how arrogant he is that he thinks that that would be enough. That he can just outwit and charm everybody. Yeah, he's like, what if they never check the bag? Until he can produce the money, Sid will be spending his days in prison on Rikers Island.
The awfulness of this hits Malcolm. He needs to find the funds for Sid's bail, quick. There's only one thing for it. He'll have to get on the phone and beg. He can do it. He's done it before. It'll be the ultimate test of his skills as a manager. I mean, again, just bigging himself up. Yeah, surely the ultimate test is making a band really successful, getting them a good record deal and tour. No one says, you know why I went into music management? To raise bail money. You've got to think out of the box, Matt.
An hour later, Malcolm is in a phone booth. He starts by phoning Moe Austin at the Pistols American record label. Hello, Warners. Moe Austin, please. It's Malcolm McLaren. Since the birth of the band, Malcolm has made many enemies. He's often behaved arrogantly and is known for his duplicity. He'd probably say that about himself. Hi, I'm Malcolm McLaren. I'm duplicitous and arrogant. Pleasure to meet you. This could now make things difficult when it comes to raising fast cash, though.
But then he's sure that the people who were so desperate to sign the Sex Pistols only a year ago will want to help Sid now. Hey Malcolm, it's Mo. I was going to call you. I've seen the reports on TV. That poor girl, it's a tragedy. Listen Mo, I need $50,000 for Sid's bail. You think you could wire it to me? I'm sorry Malcolm, I can't do that. Warners have decided to terminate the contract with the Sex Pistols. Malcolm slams down the phone. He should have known. He tries to ban the US publishers. Hello, Arista?
Can I speak to Billy Meshel? Who's speaking, please? Malcolm McLaren, on behalf of Sid Vicious. Sid Vicious? As in the murderer? Whoa. It was an accident. One moment, please. Mr. McLaren, I'm afraid Mr. Meshel can't take your call right now. Hello? Hello? Malcolm takes a deep breath. This is starting to look hopeless. Of course, there's one other person he could try. But it's the last person Malcolm wants to speak to. He looks at his watch. What time will it be in London?
Through gritted teeth, he dials the number. "Hello, Virgin?" "Oh, man." Malcolm twists his hair nervously around his fingers. He asks to speak to Richard Branson. "Surely not." It's the evening of the 22nd of October, 1978. Malcolm is just returning to his hotel. He's been in New York for nearly two weeks. Today, he's spent all day having back-to-back meetings with journalists, private detectives, and lawyers.
Taking on Sid's case is proving to be a huge job, and it's getting more expensive by the minute. But Malcolm is well aware that he's Sid's only hope. Richard Branson listened to Malcolm's plea for financial aid and came good on the bail money. Wow, I did not see that coming. Me neither. Since then, Sid has been staying in a hotel with his mother, Anne. But Malcolm found out today that Sid could be facing a maximum of 25 years if he's convicted. The thought of it haunts him.
As he gets to the hotel desk to pick up his key, Malcolm is handed a batch of messages. When he gets to his room, he sits down and looks through them. They're all calls from London. Calls from his lawyer regarding John's legal proceedings against him. Calls about the film he's been trying to produce. All of them are marked urgent. His team want to know when he's coming home. He touches the red spot that started to appear on his forehead. It seems to spring up in times of stress.
I know that feeling. Either times of stress or a first date. Am I right? School photo day. The phone rings. On the end of the line is Sid's mum. Her voice sounds panicked. Get here quick. Sid's done something to himself. You've got to help. Malcolm jumps in a cab and rushes to Sid's hotel. He finds him in a terrible state. He's tried to cut himself and he's dripping with blood. Sid's mum looks like she's been in a fight.
Sid screams at Malcolm when he sees him. I want to be with my Nancy. Let me die. Get me some smack. Finish me off. Oh, man. To calm him down, Malcolm promises to get Sid some pills. But instead, he calls an ambulance. This is sort of the most responsible Malcolm's been in a long time. Yes, that's the best decision he's ever made. When the paramedics arrive, they come with the police. Sid is so scared, he leaps up to an open window and threatens to throw himself out. With all his strength, Malcolm manages to pull him back down.
Oh my god.
He thinks of Sid, broken and bleeding. He thinks of Nancy, how he treated her. Then he thinks of John and the circumstances around his departure in America. He thinks of how he's neglected Stephen Paul. He thinks of Vivian. Is all of this his fault? Did his love for chaos bring him here? Is he responsible for all of this pain? He touches the red mark on his forehead. How did he go in four short years from managing a clothes shop to this? How can he fix what he's done?
It's the 1st of February, 1979, Rikers Island. Sid steps outside into the sunlight. He breathes in the cold air. The last four months have been awful. After his suicide attempt in October, Sid was admitted to Bellevue Hospital as a psychiatric patient. Malcolm had to return to London, so he only had his mum for support. Once he was out, he met a new girlfriend, and for a moment, things seemed to be looking up. But then just before Christmas, he got into a fight. Sid!
He attacked someone with a broken bottle and was sent back to Rikers. Oh, man. There, he detoxed. Today, he's been released again. For the first time in a long time, he's clean. His mind is now clear, and he's focused on what he has to do next. Malcolm has promised to meet Sid as soon as he can. But he's stuck in London dealing with legal proceedings brought by John.
When that's over, he's going to take Sid to Miami to meet with Steve and Paul and record an album. Great. But Sid knows he doesn't have the stomach for it. All the time Sid was in hospital and then prison, he couldn't stop thinking about Nancy. All he wants is to be united with her. Sid looks around. He sees his mum and a group of his friends waiting for him in a nearby car. He prays they won't stop him from doing what he wants to do tonight. Sid's friends take him and his mum back to a flat in Greenwich Village.
Sid takes some heroin that his mum has bought. Hang on, his mum bought the heroin? Yeah, so a quick note about Sid's mum. She was also a heroin addict, so Sid kind of grew up with drugs all around him. It's actually a wonder he did anything with his life. Yeah, sort of no chance really to stay away from it. But even though he's clean, it has little effect. Sid begs one of his friends to get more. While Sid's mum cooks everyone spaghetti bolognese, his friend goes out to score.
When he returns, he makes Sid promise to be careful. The dealer, who supplied the heroin, told him it's nearly 100%, and to only take a little bit, especially as Sid's tolerance will be low. After Sid eats dinner, he shoots up. It instantly makes him feel heavy. Fifteen minutes later, he comes out of the bedroom. His mum looks at him and says he has a rose-pink aura around his body. Knowing about the strength of the heroin, she takes away what's left and places it in her pocket for safekeeping.
Feeling tired, Sid goes back into the bedroom. His mum comes in and puts him on his side. He closes his eyes, looks at her and falls asleep. He drifts into oblivion. The next morning when Sid's mum wakes up, the heroin is gone from her pocket and Sid is dead.
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He blames himself. If only he'd been in New York. He could have fixed things. He just needed time. Malcolm has always believed that Sid wouldn't see old age. But the reality of his death at only 21 has hit him hard. I just can't believe how young he was. I know. Sid's death also marks the end of Malcolm's version of the Sex Pistols. His control over the brand is quickly disappearing. Since Malcolm got back to London, he's been dealing with the charges brought by John of financial and personal mismanagement.
Malcolm is due in court on the 7th of February. Right, so John Lydon is suing Malcolm McLaren. Yeah, so way back, if you remember, Malcolm got the band to all sign a contract saying that he owned the name Sex Pistols. Yes, that was a bit of a red flag. But John, with Dickie Branson, he's saying that the Sex Pistols ceased to exist when he left the band. Okay, that makes sense. So he doesn't want Malcolm making money off them anymore. Gotcha. The court case could be a very tough ride for Malcolm, but there's still hope.
Although John might have the backing of Virgin, he's still very much on his own. As long as Steve and Paul and Sid's mum, on behalf of Sid, side with Malcolm, everything will be fine. All Malcolm has to do is put on a brave face and be his usual flamboyant self. What could possibly go wrong? February 1979, Little Venice, London. Steve Jones shivers. We haven't heard from Steve for a while. He's back. And he should be wearing warmer clothes by the sounds of things.
His mum would be livid. It's freezing cold and he's attempting to help Paul Cook, his bandmate, climb onto the deck of a houseboat called the Duende. Steve looks at the name of the boat and frowns. He wonders what it means.
Steve and Paul are here for a secret meeting. It's with the boat's owner, Richard Branson. Okay, that has transformed my impression of what this boat looks like. I thought a long boat. Yeah, like a rickety little barge. Now I'm like, mega yacht. I thought, you know, when they paint like flowers around the name of the boat. Yeah, and they've got like a little watering can on top. Steve has spent the last few days in Chancery Court where he's heard things that have made his hair curl.
He's learnt that Malcolm McLaren has been using his and Paul's money to make a film. A total, in fact, of £90,000. A furious Steve has now come to Branson for advice. As the owner of their record company, what should he and Paul do? What's their future?
Branson pours both men a drink and takes a seat. He has a proposition for them. He'll offer Steve and Paul a record contract for a new group, but in exchange he wants them to switch sides in court. Taking his and Johnny Rotten's side against Malcolm. Steve shifts in his seat. He's no fan of John's. As far as he's concerned, he's a pain in the arse. Why should he help him now?
Branson leans forward and looks Steve in the eye. Because if you switch sides, it will put an end to Malcolm McLaren, for good. That man is dangerous. Sounds like a good deal. Steve looks away. It suddenly feels like a very long time ago since he and Paul tried to convince Malcolm to be their manager. That was back in the days when he was still a petty crook. Oh yes, when they were still in David Bowie's guitars. Oh yeah, that was his first career. He had nothing.
If he and Paul switch sides, this will be the end of the pistols and their relationship with Malcolm. Can Steve do this after all they've been through together? He owes everything to Malcolm. And even if he does switch sides, will it even work? What about Sid's mum? Won't she be supporting Malcolm? But Branson has news. Sid's mum has recently been arrested for cannabis possession in New York. Virgin paid for her bail. Branson's coming out of this brilliantly. He's paying bail left, right and centre. Ha ha ha!
Steve stares out of the window. He thinks. He doesn't like it, but he knows what he has to do. Before the night is out, Steve and Paul agree. They're with Branson now. As they leave the canal in the early hours of the morning, Steve asks Branson about the boat's name. What does the Duende mean? Branson grins wolfishly. It means the power to attract through personal magnetism and charm. Actually, we've changed our mind. We're going to support Malcolm.
Whoa. That's illegal?
You would imagine. I mean, it sounds it, right? I'm no lawyer, but I reckon emptying someone else's accounts on the day you get found guilty in court is probably not good. It always sounds sus if you're clearing the accounts. If you're like, hello, I'd just like to clear the accounts. It's never, oh, I'd just like to take out, you know, £2,000 and clear them. Then he hails a cab, tells the taxi driver he needs to go to Heathrow Airport. The sex pistols are over and there's nothing Malcolm can do other than make his escape. Oh.
In the back of the taxi, he hides the cash he's just withdrawn. It's a total of £30,000. He puts some in his jacket, his shirt, his socks, even his pants. What? He must have looked like a scarecrow. Just like cash bursting out of all his clothes. When he arrives at Heathrow Airport, he quickly buys a ticket on the first plane to Paris. But when he gets to the security check, he stops.
If he goes through the metal detector, the money will be spotted. What, it's in coins? What? It can barely move. Just all those little bags of two peas. Is his escape about to be thwarted? He starts to panic. But then a security guard notices him. Hey, are you Malcolm McLaren? Yes, I'm late for my flight. Oh, come on then, go through. Malcolm can't believe his luck. As he has no bags, the guard lets him straight through, avoiding the machine.
It really does pay to be famous. And a criminal. He takes a seat on the plane, looks out of the window. Will he ever return to the UK? As the plane taxis up the runway, he thinks of everything that's happened.
Amongst the horror of the last year and a half, there have been some good times. Meeting Stephen Pauls, the stunt on the Thames, the fights with the record companies, the great Rourke's songs, Buckingham Palace, all that sticking it to the establishment, even the Grundy interview. Those were great days. And one thing's for sure, it was never, ever boring. As the plane takes off, Malcolm sings to himself, God Save the Queen. The Sex Pistols version, of course.
When he's offered a drink by the air hostess, he makes a toast. Here's to a new future. May it be just as eventful as the past. After leaving the Sex Pistols, John Lydon started a new band, Public Image Limited, or PIL for short. The band still record and tour today. In 2004, he competed in I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here. Although very popular with viewers, he withdrew from the show days after swearing at the public for not being evicted.
for not being evicted, for doing well. He was annoyed with them for keeping him in there. His appearance on the series boosted the sales of the Sex Pistols' Nevermind the Bollocks album by 169%. After Steve Jones left the Sex Pistols, he fell into alcohol and drug addiction. He quit both in 1990 thanks to the 12-step program. Since 2004, he's hosted a highly successful radio show in LA called Jonesy's Jukebox.
Paul Cook lives in Hammersmith and is married to Jenny. He discovered Bananarama and acted as producer on their debut album. That is not the sort of music I would expect a former Sex Pistol to be involved in. A departure. Yeah. Malcolm McLaren went on to manage Adam and the Ants and then Bow Wow Wow. He recorded his own album, Duck Rock, with Trevor Horn, in 1983. He continued to make films and campaigned to be Mayor of London in 1999. Spoiler alert, didn't get elected. Ha!
He died on the 8th of April 2010. Former partner Vivienne Westwood is one of the UK's most famous and respected fashion designers. She was made a dame in 2006. Richard Branson is still Richard Branson. This is the fourth episode in our series, The Sex Pistols. If you like our show, please give us a five-star rating and a review and be sure to tell your friends. You can listen to new episodes one week early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app.
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, the Wondery app, or wherever you're listening right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app to listen for free. In the episode notes, you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. Please support them. By supporting them, you help us offer you this show for free.
Another way to support us is to answer a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all of our dramatizations are based on historical research. If you'd like to know more about this story, books include England's Dreaming, Sex Pistols and Punk Rock by John Savage, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren by Paul Gorman, Anger is an Energy by John Lydon, and I Don't Want to Live This Life by Deborah Spungen.
I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. Sarah Woolley wrote this episode. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford. Our sound design is by Sam Ader. Script editing by Joseph Lidster. Our associate producer is Francesca Gilardi Quadriocorsio. Our senior producers are Joe Sykes and Russell Finch. Our executive producers are Stephanie Jens and Marshall Louis for Wondery.
The missiles are coming.
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