Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols

On the eve of Queen Elizabeth II's funeral it seems like the right time to do Britain's one hit punk wonder, and, well, 45 years later it's still a pretty good album. No matter Malcolm McLaren's manufactured pretentions at the time you can never tell how much they're kidding ("we mean it, man!"), and whether it's playful, puerile or parody the grinning verve never quits, so if its sole enduring legacy is only ever to smash good manners I'm sure they're still proud. Where it's strongest is the music and the snarling (dig the contempt in "Pretty Vacant"), and they get credit for gleefully daring to touch the third rail over and over (abortions, German concentration camps, record companies) in a way no one else was willing to even when sometimes the lyrics let them down. I mean, "Anarchy In The U.K." doesn't even rhyme half the time as you scream along to it anyhow. But of course then there's "God Save The Queen," an smirking, caustic anthem of little-r republicanism no reputable republican will play, such that even Johnny "Rotten" Lydon himself bade her Godspeed and said any attempt to cash in on the song would be — wait for it — tasteless. Sorry, Charlie, you'll never get that honour as King! Current reissues throw in a couple B-sides, and they're worth picking up, because that's all the music you're getting out of this band. (Content: F-bombs in "Bodies," S-bomb and epithets in "New York," violent imagery.)

🌟🌟🌟🌟