SID VICIOUS: May 10, 1957 – February 2, 1979
Originally published February 2, 2016.
As I write this, I’m in between packing for a trip to England for work. When I booked my hotel, I had the choice of a few hotels. I chose the least expensive hotel, not because it was a prudent fiscal decision but because it was in Shepherd’s Bush, which was the home turf of The Sex Pistols’ Steve Jones and Paul Cook. Since this is my first trip to England, I wanted to stay somewhere where I might experience a taste of the origins of some of my rock & roll heroes. The timing is ironic, as it is also the anniversary of the death of Sex Pistols bassist Sid Vicious of a heroin overdose at age 21. It’s odd that Sid Vicious is still fascinating to me. At 21, as a college flunk-out struggling to make it as an artist and struggling to hold on to the most menial of jobs, it made sense. I listened to The Sex Pistols regularly, and even had a poster of the Sid Vicious-era Sex Pistols on my wall. But I’m a 45 year old man, preparing for a trip to London to speak at a European learning conference. Sid Vicious should have been something I outgrew the way people outgrow teenage rebellion and outrageous haircuts. But I never did stop being fascinated by Sid. I never stopped smiling or perking up when his picture would pop up in my Facebook feed. I will always watch the footage of Sid singing “My Way” from The Great Rock & Roll Swindle. It makes no sense, but something about Sid Vicious still connects with me to this day.
- Sid singing ‘My Way’, the complete version