Interview © 1979; RBF intro © 2010 by FFanzeen
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The following article about the Sex Pistols was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #3, in the Winter-Spring 1978-79 issue. It was written by Sue Starstruck.
Do I really need to go into any background or detail about the Pistols? Didn’t think so, thereby let me say that Sue Starstruck, along with her cohort Alex, used to live in Whittier, California (near Disneyland), and published their own fun and fabulous fanzine, called / (which as subtitled “The fanzine without a name”). I was friendly with them, and somehow, when they both moved to England, I lost contact with them. If anyone knows their whereabouts or what happened to them, please let me know. – RBF, 2010

So: The Sex Pistols. When Alex and I first worked out the idea of doing their fan club, we knew it wouldn’t be ordinary. That wasn’t what the Pistols were about. We just wanted to share information, to give people a chance to get t-shirts, posters, all that; and to just DO SOMETHING, in a personal, non-boring way.
Well, the fan club never got off the ground due to delays and the increasing possibility that it would be run by a merchandiser – the same one who supplies the KISS Army.
Time dragged on; the album was released, the film off and on and finally off (good). Then it hit. The Pistols were coming to America. Then they weren’t. OK, they were. It was enough to drive a crazy person sane!
Knowing I didn’t want to see them at Frisco’s Wonderland (too big and too crowded), I scraped together fanzine money and some I was saving up to move out, and went to Dallas.

The next night was Tulsa – Cain’s Ballroom. I waited for hours in the snow, but I’m not complaining. I thought it was great! (It was only the second time I’ve ever been in snow, so you’ll have to excuse me.) The Pistols arrived late afternoon in their tour bus. They clowned around in the snow. Another kid who had been waiting outside went to shake Sid Vicious’ hand. Sid hit him, not hard tho. I thought it was funny and I was glad it wasn’t me.

The show that night was fantastic despite the fact that Rotten had the flu. Paul played well as ever, Steve (who looked none too happy) explored a new guitar, Sid was carefully watched by a guard as he fought the temptation to swing his bass at the people like myself who were smashed together right in front of the stage. And John – definitely on, like a man possessed, his performance sliced by his cat-and-prey stares with the crowd. It occurred to me as I caught his stare, “It’s all for him. He’s putting forth so much but he’s doing it for himself, and not for the audience.” I stared back with a vengeance.
But this was the show I had waited for since way back when. I’m glad they had it in ‘em like I’m glad I wasn’t wrong.

By the way, I really recommend a book that is, as far as I know, only out in England: The Sex Pistols by Fred & Judy Vermorel it’s called, and try writing to Tandem Publishing… It’s pieces of interviews, news stories, and best of all, portions of Sophie’s (McLaren’s secretary) insightful diary. The book’s loosely done but it speaks for itself as in “look afar and see the beginning” – I got that in a fortune cookie once.
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