"The Best Band In The World"

Ears still ringing from my third benediction with the Pistols, I sit here thinking what on earth can I say that I haven't already said following my previous two benedictions and blogs (see below, dear reader). Shall I point out that they were fabulous? That they were vicious? That John was a dancing Quasimodo as he pulled shapes and hopped around the stage, doing what I think of as his 'public image' dance, swaying from side to side lifting knee and opposing arm, pogoing, working the crowd into a lather. O yes, I could say all that. And more.

They were on top form tonight, John's vocals savage and scathing by turns, sharing his wisdom ("Never trust the middle classes - ever!"), telling us how gorgeous he is ("I've got better tits than Madonna" as he pulled up his shirt to show us - and he's right, he has), drinking Red Stripe and gargling with brandy. Going back to his monitors every now and then to refresh his memory with the lyrics (he commented that you'd think he'd remember after singing them for 30 years), having a swig and then launching into another marvelous song.

Steve and Glen were tight as ever, mimicing each other on either side of the stage and going in to Paul's podium at the end and start of every song, Paul being the backbone. Classic riffs like the opening to 'Pretty Vacant' and the best drum roll ever in 'Holidays In The Sun'. What a class band they are, tight and powerful, throwing out that wonderful, scary sound, so right for John to overlay his fearsome words.

John did all the talking (of course) and only referred to the band twice. At the end of 'No Fun' when he'd run out of words to spit at us but Steve was still playing the riff facing the speakers and John called out 'Oi fatty!' to get his attention. The second time was at the very end after the encores when he threw out his arm to refer to the band and said, "They're the best band in the world". He's a softy at heart.

Top tunes tonight were a killer version of 'Submission' extended on the long play out and very hypnotic (at least to those of singing and swaying along to it), '(I'm Not Your) Stepping Stone' (with John changing the words to 'I'm not your rolling stone'), 'Seventeen' which sounded wild and frantic and, of course, 'EMI'. The four singles were great - is there any feeling quite like singing 'no future' in 'God Save The Queen' or 'I wanna be Anarchy' in 'Anarchy In The UK' and not being able to hear yourself because of the sheer noise? Everlasting anthems.

The encore was 'Bodies' and 'Anarchy' after which the Pistols left the stage and the lights came on. I couldn't believe that would be it, after all it was their last night in London so there must be more. And there was! Lights still on and back they came, John commenting that now that the boring people had gone we could have some fun. He explained that his friend, Denton the Bear, had recently been killed by some Russians for some reason (hence the flag that had been flying above the stage each night) and he dedicated the final song to Denton - 'Roadrunner'! Wow and cor. Blistering!

After that John said he really appreciated us all turning out to see them and called his fellow Pistols 'the best band in the world'. I'd turn out anytime to see you all, John, and yes, you're right (as ever), they are. It's been a rare privilege to see the Sex Pistols in action. They're bound up in legend and mystique, and no little filth and fury, and that's all part of the experience. I've waited 30 years for this and they didn't disappoint, not one jot.

Thank you.