Possibly to be sub-titled 'the one that got away', it was only when your reviewer read the sleeve notes to this largely engaging spoken word CD that he remembered it was originally released as a limited-edition cassette by Factory Records in the winter of 1980.
Now expanded to add contributions from GLC Tory MP Bernard Brooke Partridge, Malcolm McLaren's gran Rose Corre and - more pertinently - Glen Matlock, "The Heyday" features interviews involving the then-current Sex Pistols Johnny Rotten, Sid Vicious, Steve Jones and Paul Cook taped by the band's biographers Fred and Judy Vermorel in August 1977, arguably as the band's notoriety was at its' peak just before the classic "Never Mind The Bollocks" album was released.
And, however unlikely it may sound, it's the interviews with the group's two erstwhile bassists that are the chief objects of fascination here. Judy Vermorel taped the interview with Sid sitting on his mum's couch in Stoke Newington and it's a revelation. Unlike the pathetic footage of Sid in Lech Kowalski's "D.O.A" (and several other such sordid escapades) here he's lucid, interesting and demonstrates that there was intelligence of some sort lurking behind the facade, at least minus drugs. His Peter Pan-esque "kids" versus "grown-ups" argument is actually remarkably sussed, while his declaration that he'll "be dead before I'm 24, probably sooner" and so will "that girl" (Nancy Spungen) cannot fail to send shivers down the spine.
Elsewhere, Vicious admits sincere fondness for the Pistols' records. He seems to believe he was a crucial part in their making though in reality he never played on any of them, while his hate/ tolerance for Malcolm McLaren reveals the strange nihilism/ innocence dichotomy inherent in Sid. Icon or talentess dickhead? The debate still rages, but regardless this is one of the best few remaining insights into his psyche.
At the other end of the scale, the interview taped with Glen Matlock at his parents' place in suburban Middlesex several months after the original bassist's Pistols tenure ended is equally valuable. Speaking with conviction and a tinge of disappointment rather than bitterness, Matlock gives interesting insights into his former colleagues, not least McLaren and Rotten (Lydon). Indeed,. most of the things McLaren would soon try to airbrush out of his role in the group's history (like Matlock himself) are addressed here.
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Matlock describes his relationship with McLaren as "a one-way thing", with McLaren guilty of nicking his ideas and giving nothing in return. Vivienne Westwood, meanwhile, is dismissed as a "dopey Northerner" and "scatty", while Rotten's continual niggling and obnoxious behaviour obviously got right up Matlock's nose. It IS notable, though, that he's the only person who places real emphasis on the music.
Unfortunately, the remainder of the interviews fail to scale such heights. The Steve Jones and Paul Cook segments are uneventful, centreing mostly on the band's nicked equipment and Bill Grundy, although the Lydon interview is the real disappointment. His anonymous acolytes keep interjecting pissed-up wisdom and Johnny's standard rants rail against the usual subjects (the Queen, education, marriage etc) without the observation and razor wit inherent in his "No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish" biography.
Even less essential are Tory MP Bernard Brooke Partridge - the man largely responsible for banning the Pistols' live activity in London - who kicks the CD off with a pompous pro-
Establishment rant that makes him sound utterly archaic, while Rose Corre's recitation of the Oxford Street script - prompted wearily by McLaren himself - brings the collection to a mystifying close.
Nonetheless, while "The Heyday" may be blighted by rambling, unwanted interruption and often very basic sound quality, for the Vicious and Matlock segments alone it remains an essential alumnus for anyone with more than a passing interest in this infamous British institution.
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