“...a sausage roll with custard over it”

When I heard that Malcolm McLaren had died, and his long-term antagonist John Lydon spoke of him with some degree of affection, I tweeted:

When Simon Cowell dies, will Joe McElderry order us to miss him?

The point I was trying to make is that there’s not that much *moral* difference between McLaren’s quasi-Situationist shenanigans with the Sex Pistols, and Cowell’s pimpery to the proles of airbrushed eunuchs like little Joe; it’s just that in the 70s, the music was better.

But I was wrong. Of course I was wrong. Here’s a video of Malcolm last year, already clearly unwell, railing against the karaoke culture of Cowell and Blair and their ilk. If anyone was going to blame him for SuBo and Jedward, he wasn’t going to take the rap. There’s also a great riff about the sexuality of wine-tasting, as well as rock ‘n’ roll, William Morris, failure and much more.

Sorry, Malcolm.