As the majority of them ease into their eighth decade, the overlords of British punk rock get yet another celebratory runout, gently reheating material that has become familiar over the years but never loses its appeal. A subculture that passed almost immediately from tabloid-triggering menace to picture-postcard caricature, punk may have passed into legend as a joyless and even squalid diversion in music and fashion history, but its surviving spokespeople recall their participation in it all with no little enthusiasm, even if they’ve clearly said it a thousand times already. No doubt it is the gen alphas among us who will benefit most; you’d expect their jaws to drop and eyes to roll at some of the stuff deemed perfectly acceptable in the late 1970s: women’s-breasts T-shirts, amateurish pancake makeup, and all that disgusting spitting. (“I didn’t mind it going in my mouth,” says the Damned’s Captain Sensible at one point, out-disgusting everyone.)
There’s a good spread of voices on offer; at least one member of most of the era’s big acts puts in an appearance with Glen Matlock (the Sex Pistols), Rat Scabies (the Damned), Terry Chimes (the Clash), Steve Severin (Siouxsie and the Banshees), and Hugh Cornwell (the Stranglers) leading the way. (The latter, though affable enough, is easily the least impressed as to punk’s actual achievements, which is a valuable corrective.) The original punk wave had little space for women (despite the sense that blows were being struck for equality) and that’s the case in the film as well: Gaye Advert (the Adverts) and Viv Albertine (the Slits) get a bit of time on camera though inevitably get a bit lost in it all. Due recognition, however, is paid to designer Vivienne Westwood as punk’s true founding spirit; Sex, the King’s Road boutique she ran with Malcolm McLaren, was a crucible of the British punk scene. Don Boyd, who produced the Pistols’ movie The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle along with the late Jeremy Thomas, says she “was punk and is punk … it came from her”.
Some interesting details emerge: how the Sex Pistols’ early gigs coincided with the sweltering heatwave of 1976, which contributed – literally – to their pressure-cooker atmosphere; how early punk mix-and-match style emerged as a result of Westwood and Malcolm McLaren getting stuck with unsold stock from their shop’s previous incarnations; and, as writer Jon Savage explains, how the use of the word “punk” itself was debated. Inevitably, perhaps, it’s the more peripheral figures who offer the freshest takes, particularly David Barbarossa, drummer for Adam and the Ants and Bow Wow Wow, who talks somewhat regretfully about how McLaren winkled him and his bandmates away from the former to form the latter. All in all, this is an entertaining way to mark the half-century, and one to stick the kids in front of too.
• 50 Years of Punk is in UK cinemas from 18 September
