Word: rottener
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Does he have any advice for aspiring directors? "Don't do it, it's a rotten life, a dumb job." Moore says the position has been highly overblown, probably because of cinema, where the director has much more control. "Plays used to be staged by the stage-managers," he said, "but films have carried over the idea that the director is a charismatic force, an 'auteur.' I've never made an 'auteur' film...
...nights later in Atlanta, Lead Singer Johnny Rotten opened the first concert on their first tour of the U.S. by announcing: "You can all stop staring at us and just relax and have some fun." Sure enough, the Pistols' American debut was a tame, almost respectable happening. Johnny did not throw empty beer bottles at the audience. All he did was blow his nose a lot. Guitarist Steve Jones did not vomit, though in the past he has proved he has the stomach for it. Nor did Bassist Sid Vicious sputter forth more than a few four-letter words...
Vicious and Rotten sported hairdos that looked as if they had been blow-dried in a wind tunnel or plugged into a preamp...
Heard on records, the Sex Pistols' music is primitive, purposely repetitive, less melodic than the American brand. In person the Pistols' antics add to the entertainment, if one enjoys a little gutter rebellion and a lot of depleted expectations. Rotten, Vicious, Jones and Drummer Paul Cook are only in their early 20s, but they have mastered the art of the 1950s pelvic thrust completely. Rotten is the live shell: an emaciated, electric figure who jumps from simian crouch to arm-swinging swirl to Groucho Marx prowl. Dissolving a coy smile into a demonic leer, he half snarls, half...
Tour openings any place, let alone in a foreign country, are tough moments for even the mightiest of rock groups. The Atlanta crowd was not knocked breathless by the Pistols, but they obviously had some of the fun Rotten urged upon them. It was not a typical punk assemblage of street-wise rowdies, although one fellow showed up with a safety pin punched through his cheek. The kids pelted the performers with a friendly barrage of crumpled paper cups and, as the Pistols' big beat went on, twisted and swayed on their feet. They had no choice: the place...