THE Sex Pistols boat trip on Jubilee Day 1977 was where the punk rock dream collided with reality – and also the Metropolitan Police.
Until that fateful and legendary night on the Thames, it was possible for wild young things like the Pistols and myself — a staff writer on the NME at the time — to believe that our rebellion would change the world.
And that night, the punk rockers got a good kicking. The evening began so pleasantly. After all the nights my punky peers and I had spent frequenting dark, dank basement clubs such as The Roxy in Covent Garden, we emerged blinking, vole-like, into the sunshine.
The plan was a classic stunt by the band’s manager Malcolm McLaren — the Pistols would play the gig of their lives as we sailed past the.
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