Anger is an Energy: My Life Uncensored (59 page)

The film was received extremely well at the premiere, although I really didn’t think it would be. I was introduced to the stage by Danny DeVito, who was involved somehow with the money and
investment – wowzers! There’s a smart bunny! I think he’s absolutely up there as a comic actor. What a giggle to be sharing the same stage as fellas like that. I’m
star-struck just as much as anyone else. I’ve never viewed myself as being up in their leagues – although I’m far from humble!

He did a really funny interview for
Rotten TV
, but the only conversation we had that mattered to me, even to this day, is that he loves those old Dinky toys – little cast-iron
replica cars. I’m so on the same plane with that. We talked Corgi, Dinky, railway sets by Hornby, all of these model toys.

While we were running around up there, I interviewed Aidan Quinn and James Woods, who were a lot of fun, then there was Cyndi Lauper and Christopher Walken – I didn’t have much good
to say to either of them two. I also managed to miss one actor. He’s very big and popular, he’d even won an Oscar in that period – Kevin Spacey – but I didn’t know who
he was. I since found out, and I really love his films! They say he has a photographic memory, he can remember dialogue on one read – well, let’s hope he don’t remember me. When
we went back looking at the footage, the VH1 lot said, ‘Look who you just ignored, John!’, so we snuck in some text at the top of the picture, saying, ‘Oops, you missed one,
John!’

VH1 asked me to do a TV advert for the series, and so around comes this crew to the house out in Malibu, and they turn up with a script, and I say, ‘That’s
all very interesting, here’s what I want to do.’ I led them out to the back yard, where I had a lemon tree. I had an orange in one hand and a lemon in the other, and just held them up
to the camera and went, ‘Oranges or lemons?’ – and then I stuck my lemon into the lens. ‘Lemons!’ That’s it, that’s the advert for
Rotten TV
.

For the third episode I went into the American electoral system very heavily. I travelled to the Democrat and Republican Party conventions and interviewed the likes of Newt Gingrich, the former
speaker of the House of Representatives, and Jesse Ventura, the then Governor of Minnesota and a retired professional wrestler and Navy frogman! Only in America, folks. Ha ha. I loved that side of
it; I loved talking to these people on a one-to-one basis. I found Newt Gingrich well-read, clever, devious, but bear this in mind: politicians have to be devious – it is their nature. You
don’t want a simpleton half-wit running anything at all.

At VH1’s own awards, I met Paul McCartney. He was always Glen Matlock’s hero, of course, so for that reason alone I’d developed a sort of instant dismissal of the fella. I met
him at one of the after-parties and he was great, he was really, really open. He came up and went, ‘Hello, John!’ I absolutely loved him for that. I’m always open to people that
have an open heart, and I could see it in him. He’s got really honest eyes – child-like eyes, really. That reminds me of myself, because I think that’s the driving force in a lot
of people in music, that we’re incapable of corruption. It’s what keeps us going on. It’s a glorious thing to see that complete innocence in people. How long has he been in music?
And he’s completely innocent.

There was a situation there previously in London, around the time of the
Happy?
album in ’87, when McCartney and his wife came face to face with me and Nora. We were going to my
brother Jimmy’s; it was a Saturday afternoon, and our cab got stuck in traffic outside
Harrods. Up came Paul McCartney and Linda, running up and banging on the cab
door, going, ‘John! John! It’s me! Paul!’ How embarrassed I felt at that time! I couldn’t deal with it. I’m going to the cab driver, ‘Quick, swing into a back
road!’ And the cabbie goes, ‘Bleedin’ hell, I’ve seen it all now.’

So, there was a bloke that was always chased by people, and now he’s chasing me! He meant so well, and I did so wrong, and handled the situation so badly. I don’t know what was in my
head at that point. I should’ve just wound the window down, or opened the door. No – instinctively, I just fled. Nora’s going, ‘What are you doing?’ So, meeting him in
New York years later at the VH1 party, there was a lot to say sorry for. I took the opportunity, and he said, ‘Oh, don’t be silly.’

In the end, only three episodes of
Rotten TV
aired, before VH1 pulled the plug. It’s funny, because while it was running, they did a research poll to find out what kind of people
would like my show, and oddly enough it wasn’t young alleged rebels, it was housewives that were
really thrilled
, and liked the up-in-your-face-ness of it. So there’s a lot to be
said for bored housewives, they’re not all for Des O’Connor. So there you go, the mums love me. I’m housewives’ choice.

Afterwards there came all manner of shenanigans because MTV were moving in on it. They used to practically run VH1, according to the information at the time, and they wanted to use the format of
Rotten TV
, keeping the name, but replacing me with Beck, which of course I raised a huge stink about. I don’t know if he personally was up for that cup, but that’s what MTV were
thinking. I wouldn’t allow it. It’s got Johnny Rotten printed all the way through it – how are you going to ignore that? So it got into a legal wrangle there for quite a bit, then
it faded away, so I thought, ‘Move on!’

I found that making a TV show was a hell of a lot more complicated than you could ever imagine. The pitfalls and the calamities of the hierarchy in the offices is quite a serious minefield
to wade through. TV people? They’re a nightmare, they’re so indecisive, and at the same time full of determined advice. And if you ever followed any of it,
they’d be the first to give you the boot. They’re all very good at taking praise when a thing works, but
phwoar
, they won’t take the risk, they’ll put your head in
the chopping-block and then wait to see the results. Very fake business. Full of lovely-dove, ‘hi darlings’ and all of that. Backstabbing is the order of the day. You’d think
I’d be well used to it. I’m not.

Many TV shows have since garnered that approach and turned out rather magnificent things, tapping into that element of surprise, which chat shows will never have – things like
The Daily
Show
with Jon Stewart and
The Colbert Report
. That’s the best TV in America at the moment, those two shows. I’m not saying that they copied us, but they’re heading in
that direction. It may be an example of great minds think alike; at least I hope that’s what it is. If indeed I have a great mind . . .

What do our kind ever achieve? What do we get? Nobody’s out there offering us an easy lift, so any one of us from the manor, if they do good, stand up for them. Although
. . . a lot of bad things will happen in the manor. You
will
get the proverbial crabs in the barrel. If one crab gets to the top, the rest will try to pull it back down. That’s the
rampant hatred and jealousy of success that you get in Britain. Any American arsehole can tour in the US, by contrast, and they’re a genius.

When I was offered an ‘Inspiration’ award by
Q
magazine in 2001, however, it wasn’t really that I personally wanted the award. It was just a nice excuse for a party, and
I brought my dad along for the ceremony, along with quite a few of my mates. The cry went up from Reggie, ‘Johnny betta win one’ – and Johnny did. I arrived in an old-fashioned
‘rag-and-bone’ horse and cart, with every kind of old iron and junk you could imagine in the back, like broken bicycles and toilet bowls. What a fantastic day! We totally took over the
place and made a massive splash. I gave the actual little award
to Dad, and he put it on the front windscreen of his lorry. He was so proud of it. It breaks my heart to
think of it. ‘Moi son won dat awoorrd!’

The Sex Pistols was still dribbling along. In July 2002, we wanted to play for the Queen’s Golden Jubilee, but all that was available in London was Crystal Palace National Sports Centre
– a run-down running track from some old Olympics in God knows when. Maybe it wasn’t even an old Olympic site, just a running track. Still, we flooded that place with all of the alleged
villains and hardcore Sex Pistols fans that Britain had to offer, and no trouble was had. We were friends amongst each other. Yet at the same time, all day, up on the hills there’s the riot
squad and their shields just waiting for something to go wrong. But – nothing – went – wrong. Hello! Don’t need ya. We police ourselves.

In the official programme that day, we mocked up an advert answering rumours out there that I was now making my living as a real estate agent. The idea came from a conversation with Scotty
Murphy, who was working with us at the time, and was later conscripted into running our websites along with Rambo. Then all of us chipped in, playing up to it. I thought, ‘Well, let’s
really give it to them then.’ If you look at the pictures of the alleged properties for sale, one of them is a rundown caravan, the other’s a couple of sticks of wood in an empty field
at the edge of a cliff – absolute impossibles. Some of the nasties out there actually took it at face value, and believed that these places were up for sale. If I could sell them properties,
I’d be a bloody successful real estate man!

It was anger that brought my memory back, after meningitis. Anger at the nurses and the doctors and the way they’d talk tough with me in the hospital, and how
they’d told everyone to be like that with me, because that would make me fight and get my brain to click back – rather than making me comfortable, so I’d settle into a happy
nonexistence for the rest of my life. So anger became a seriously important energy for me.

In my songs, I’m trying to duplicate verbally the pain or the joy or the emotion that’s going on inside my head. Whenever I achieve that – and this is no word of a lie –
it takes me right back to when I first woke up in hospital and could not speak. I thought I was speaking, but I was just mouthing words. Whatever came out was a jumble, a juxtaposition of noises,
squeaks and bubbles. I’d forgotten language. That’s the pain I was in at that moment, and that’s how I want to be when I represent my songs live – right back at that moment
of anxiety. Everything in me cycles around that horrible feeling. And, of course, the shyness too. I mean, bloody hell, they’d
have to pull the sheets off me;
I’d keep still for hours hoping no one would notice me, because I felt I didn’t belong here, and I didn’t recognize anything. ‘I don’t know why I’m here, I
don’t know who I am, I don’t belong here, I also can’t speak any language they seem to understand. Why not?’

All this is really the core of my make-up, and it’s something Nora understands absolutely intrinsically with me. She
knows
, and this is why we are so tight. I know her pains from
childhood, she knows mine. You can’t explain this stuff even to your best friends. And it’s even harder to explain it to you now. I wouldn’t be here without Nora and the support
system she’s given me emotionally.

The age difference between us matters not. We’ll be together forever, regardless. Our hearts and souls are in the right place. You know when you’ve found your soul partner in life,
you just know. We’ve had some of the worst arguments mankind has ever known. But we’re the kind of personalities where, after all the insults have been fired, we can laugh at it because
it’s preposterous. When you really love someone, you can practise hate in an enjoyable kind of way!

You’ve got to bear in mind: me and Nora, we don’t like the same thing musically. Sometimes we do. But I could never live with a mirror image, or a reflection of myself, and neither
could Nora. She’s actually quite athletic, and I’m not, and somehow that helps.

After we moved to Los Angeles together, we kept the house on Gunter Grove for a while, but eventually we decided it just had to go. The endless people that would parade on the front doorstep
became overwhelming and very difficult to handle, so we moved out completely to free ourselves up. Instead, we bought a place in Fulham, putting our monies together. I put in what I had from
selling Gunter,
and Nora put what she had in, and from that day on we became a complete couple and have done everything like that ever since. What’s mine is hers,
what’s hers is ours.

We get bored in LA from time to time, so then we’ll go back to Blighty, and try a little bit of that just to lighten the load. This situation out here can become a bit sterile, which of
course it always does with kids involved, because your life’s all about them at that point. When we more or less adopted the twins, everything changed – it had to be all about them.
Unfortunately their attitude towards us was, ‘Yes, we agree, it
is
all about us!’ That’s how you get tied down.

Nora and I are not ones for the ‘happy family babby thingy’. Kids are great, so long as they’re not your own. I might’ve had a different attitude if we did have children,
but there’s definite reasons we don’t. So we’re now firmly like, ‘
We
are each other’s babby’s, and that’s it.’ Although, I’ve got to
say, we both
love
children around us. And I’m world famous for throwing the best, best parties for children. I love it.

Every time I’ll dress up, any excuse, even in the neighbourhood, right up to this current moment in life. Here I am at fifty-eight years young, and I’ll buy a box of Lego and fill
the front yard with kids. And I’ll be there rolling in the dirt with them or in the grass, I’ll be playing – I love it. I think like a kid in these respects. I don’t act the
adult.

I’ll dress up as anything, but never anything that will frighten a child. Never a ghost, say. I don’t want to introduce the concept of fear. I want them to realize it’s comedy.
This whole world of people teaching their children to be frightened of the dark is very much the opposite of me. Embrace the dark – it’s the best place to sleep in. There are no ghosts,
there’s just human beings – watch out for
them
.