JohnOoh, naughty, naughty. This will do very nicely for me and the missus. But what'll the kiddies wear?
John
I only sing out of tune.
Ladies! Pretend you're on stage, and just sing along. Otherwise Steve Jones here's gonna beat the bloody daylights out of you.
John
I don't think so.
We'll see. [Malcolm starts playing Alice Cooper's I'm Eighteen]
John
Oh, Alice. My mum loves him. [Sings along out of tune and then falls down when song's over] What is it? Bunch of morons or what? No future for John, is it? Uh, God save Johnny, Humpty Dumpty Johnny. We all fall down left and right. Blue suede, white suede... [Blows raspberry] brothel creeping bastards! I'm a boy. No, I'm a man. I'm eighteen, and I hate it! I hate it! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen! Nothing but a lowlife! I hate it! Fuck it! Hate it! Suck it! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen, and I hate it! Where's me shoes?!
Well, let's set up a rehearsal first, and then we can talk about your shoes.
John
Fuck that! [Throws mic on ground and walks away]
He's right. I don't think this is gonna work.
I thought it was interesting.
Maybe for a Christmas panto.
John
Why are you wasting my time?!
...
John
[Standing outside the Sex store] Open the door, please.
Do any of you imbeciles realise what's happening here? He is one of the greatest guitarists in all of England. And you are an untutored genius that, with the right guidance, could change the world.
John
[Laughs maniacally] You're a tosser.
Yes, I am. And I'm going to toss this boring, grey country with its corrupt Establishment right on to its inbred, self-important arse.
John
Now, who wants to toss with me? One rehearsal.
John
It will be a chance to hear England's greatest guitarist.
May as well join the tossers.
Excellent. I'll set it up.
[Steve knocks on John's door and then promptly walks away when unanswered then John opens door to see Steve's head over fence]
John
My, my! It's Kutie Jones. What you want?
About the rehearsals. Sorry, it was a... bit of a misunderstanding. We forgot.
John
Oh, yeah?
Malcolm's organising another, and we'll be there.
John
I won't. The place was a shithole. The rats were so noisy, we wouldn't have been able to hear each other.
John
I already have.
John
Not really.
John
I don't think I can be in a band called "Kutie Jones And His Sex Pistols". The name's disgusting. I might come to a rehearsal of a band called "Sex Pistols".
I told Malcolm that, too. Great.
John
Bye-bye, Kutie.
[Steve has produced lyrics scrawled out on ripped out notebook pages]
John
"Give the dog a bone"? What does that mean?
When you're seventeen, all you want to do is shag.
John
Do ya?
John
I'm not singing that. It sounds like it's written by a moron.
John
How old's Malcolm?
John
You're only twenty-nine... Got a lot to learn... You're only twenty-nine... Give the git a... Make my stomach... Nah! You're only twenty-nine... Got a lot to learn... But when your mummy dies, she will not return! That's more like it!
John
You're welcome.
We like noise, it's our choice...
John
It's good. We're keeping that. Easy and simple.
Good. And "I don't work, I just speed, that's all I need".
John
Yeah, some of it's all right, Steve, if I could read it. Honestly, did you even go to school?
[Scoffs] No, not really. Don't worry, I'll work it out.
John
I need the bog.
John. I know what we should call ya. Rotten. On account of your teeth.
John
Johnny fucking Rotten. That's brilliant! I love it. [Goes out door]
John
[Watching outside] Little fucker.
[John and Simon/Sid are walking to John's flat]
John
If you are going to be in the band, you can't carry on being called John, because that's my name. Malcolm won't let me in the band. Steve's hopeless and Glen's a ponce. One of 'em has to go. Besides, I need a mate. They're really mean most of the time.
John
Slime is good.
"Sime", not "Slime". It's short for "Simon". John Simon Ritchie.
John
You can't be called Simon either, it's a shit name. Hence why I prefer John.
I don't see why we can't both be called John. Confusion is good.
John
I've only just noticed your teeth. You look like my fucking hamster.
[Noticing John's hamster] Hello, Sid.
John
We'll call you Sid. After the hamster.
John
Hamsters don't have surnames.
Well, I'm gonna need a second name. For legal purposes.
John
Sid Ritchie sounds okay.
[Hamster bites Sid's finger] Argh! Sid's really vicious.
[The band is performing in a club before metalheads and new wave fans]
We're the Sеx Pistols, and our singer don't like hearing himself sing. [Audience cheers] It's understandable, really.
John
I don't like hearing none of youse!
AAudience
You can't fսcking play! So what? Yeah, so what?
Get a haircut, you dirty hippy!
AAudience
[Repeatedly] Encore!
John
Fսck you! Shut the fսck up!
AAudience
[John walks over to get a chair] What's he fսcking doing? Piss off! Fսcking idiot!
John
[Sits in chair and announces] I always wanted to see this band. But I regret to inform you, ladies and gentlemen... [throws chair across room] that they are shit! [Band plays song that ends with punk fans getting into spitting match with metalheads]
PTPiano teacher
Let's try again.
John
I don't wanna sing like that.
We don't want him sounding like Mario Lanza.
PTPiano teacher
What do you want to sound like?
Well, I mean, I was thinking of a kind of Bowie-ish... Elvis Presley sort of sound, with maybe a dash of Alice Cooper.
John
Shut up, Malcolm!
PTPiano teacher
Perhaps it might be best if you waited outside.
John
Wait outside or I'll shove Beethoven's head up your arse!
Okay. Now, I'll just be outs...
John
Out!
PTPiano teacher
When I was young, I wanted to sing like Maria Callas. She's an opera singer.
John
I know who Callas is. Greek. One of the greatest. Bit of a diva.
PTPiano teacher
I'm impressed.
John
Why? Because I look like a shabby little moron who don't know a treble clef from a cleft palate?
PTPiano teacher
Not at all. I don't, by the way. No need to.
John
You're going to tell me that after wasting your youth trying to be UK Callas, you finally realised that the only person you could be was... you, and that realization brought you true happiness, et cetera, et cetera.
PTPiano teacher
Bugger! You've guessed my best trick.
John
Thank you. But that sentiment is of no use to me. Last night I was myself. But hearing myself was a bloody nightmare. If you don't want to sing, then don't.
PTPiano teacher
Performing's not for everyone. Perhaps it's not for you.
[To Glen reading newspaper] What's it say?
It's our first review. Be nice for us all to hear it out loud together.
I'm not your nursery school teacher.
Sorry, I thought you were, seeing as you dress exactly like her.
[Laughs and throws newspaper across table] Read it yourself.
[Clears throat and reads] Yeah... Typical NME.
Not worth reading, to be honest.
Nah. Except for that last bit.
Yeah, Malcolm's gonna love that.
Which bit? Which bit again?
The last bit. [John comes in] Oh, finally! Now we can rehearse! Have you read it?!
John
Not interested.
Oh, I bet he's read it. I bet he's bought up every copy in Finsbury Park and wallpapered his room with it.
John
What do you want to be, Glen?
I know what I wanna be. I wanna be in a band where the geezer what writes the words writes some. "Lazy Sod" might be a bit simple, but it's better than fսck all, which is all you've come up with.
John
How am I supposed to be inspired, when my collaborators are a mummy's boy, a pleaser, and a moron?
How about I fix your teeth with my guitar? Maybe that'll inspire you.
Yeah, where's all this come from?
The NME's gone to his head.
John
I have not read it!
John
[He kicks table] Ow!
[Laughs at John who throws a mug at the wall shattering it then storms out] What the fսck?! My favourite mug!
We should get another singer.
[Walking out] Steve, can I have a word? I'm leaving.
I'll get it. Oh, well done.
Mum. I need to see Malcolm. There was a girl in the shop looking for you.
John
I don't care. You will. Tell Malcolm that I'm seriously considering leaving the band.
John
You don't even care, do ya?
John
I wouldn't expect it. That's exactly like you people. Why are you printing swastikas with your children?
BBen
Mum and Malcolm want to not only reject the values of the older generation but also their, um...
BBen
Yeah, taboos. Everything's "anti". That means opposite. Thank you. Jesus is upside down, and I chose pink for this swastika because the Nazis hated homosexuals... and they made them wear pink triangles. Nazis would hate their swastika being pink.
John
Many millions of Jews might hate a shirt with a swastika on it.
Possibly. But Malcolm's Jewish, and it was his idea. Do you know why nothing ever changes? It's because people's minds are too imprisoned by lies, fear... and a misguided respect for the very institutions that have exploited them for centuries. I want to destroy all that, so that out of the chaos... the future can emerge. We don't hate Jews, or gays, or Christians. We don't hate anyone, do we?
Except for Nazis. And racists and fascists in general. And people who are too boring or scared to stand up and say what they mean. Goodbye, John.
Was that last chord a 'B' suspended 7th of an augmented 'E'?
[Laughs] Don't be ridiculous. Just an 'E' on the bass over...
Oh, Jesus! Glen! We're not in a Paul fսcking McCartney fսcking tribute band!
If you're a pensioner! What are the chords?
'C'! [Plays amplified riff] Right? But played like a punch in the face. Next.
'F' major 7th suspended 2nd.
[Plays amplified riff] Right? Played like a kick in the guts.
'E' on the bass over an open 'C'.
'E'! Played like a fսcking sеx Pistol! [Plays amplified riff repeatedly]
John
[Comes in and repositions mic stand] Give me a tune. Give me a tune, and I'll give you words.
DDave
That has got "hit" written all over it.
DDave
When you get your new recording contract, I'd definitely suggest this is your first single.
John
Thank you, Dave! Next time I need advice from a stoned-out hippy, I'll know precisely where to turn. In the meantime, please stick to your assigned role as a third-rate sound engineer.
He's just jealous cos I wrote the tune and most of the lyrics, apart from that rewrite you did on the 2nd verse which admittedly is an improvement.
John
The only thing that makes it not an ABBA song, is that I sing "pretty va-cunt", whereas you wanted "pretty vacant".
Dave's right. When we present to potential record companies...
John
Shut up, Glen!
Ugh! Are we fighting again?
JJohnn
"Pretty Vacant" does not represent us as a band.
Oh, no, not like "Anarchy". "I'm an anarchist. I'm an Antichrist." Do you know what a hard time my mum gets at work over those lyrics?
Because "anarchist" and "Antichrist" don't rhyme?
John
I'm the one who people notice. And I'm the one who bears the consequences, so pardon me, Glen, if I don't give A FUCK, what your mum thinks!
M1Man 1
You're not special!
M2Man 2
Get here, you fսcking cսոt!
[To bartender] There's gonna be a riot! Come on!
John
Oh, look, the northern oafs are snogging. I didn't know Barnsley was this brutal.
BBartender
To be honest with you, son, it's like this most Saturday nights.
John
[Van pulls into gas station] You fool! I'm starving. It's obscene.
Well, I've only been provided with money for petrol and accommodation.
John
We can't work if we're starving.
...
[John reaches for his shoplifted candy bar stash that the band is digging into] Hey! No, no, no! You're the star. You stay in the front. Yeah, go on! [John displays a vulgar gesture]
John
[Band has arrived at an upscale hotel] What's Malcolm playing at, sending us on this tour of England's biggest twat-holes?
Isn't exactly our target audience, is it?
What? Look at the legs on that one.
...
SWSenior woman
[Steve belches] Disgusting!
John
[Band has taken places at stage] Hello, Whitby or Shitby or wherever we are. Do you want to hear something real?
...
BBernadette
Could you turn it down a bit, please? The sound. Turn it down! The sound! We've got Bingo on in the Lesser Ballroom. They can't hear the numbers.
BBernadette
Bingo, yeah. Next door. [Bernadette runs to the washroom to glam herself up and rejoins the performance with her boyfriend in kissing embrace on deserted audience floor]
Hey, it's Bernadette. It's Bingo!
John
Turn it up!
This one goes out to Bingo and her boyfriends!
[Looking around perplexed] Oi... oi! What's that noise?
Get out! You never once got taken to the seaside?!
My childhood wasn't quite the lap of luxury yours was, Glen.
John
Even us impoverished Irish immigrants had the occasional seaside holiday. Poor, underprivileged Jonesy.
Pistol · 61 quotes
