“No future, no future for you” scowled Johnny Rotten in Anarchy In The UK.
John, unlike Sid Vicious, has had something of a future beyond his time in the initial spotlight- I’m a singer in a punk band, get me out of here indeed! Sidney always had too much rope. And now Johnny wants us to frolic in a meadow covered in butter. Shame on you John Lydon.
There’s a school of thought that says capitalism can never die, that as long as there is one human being alive who has something the only other human being alive wants, there will be commerce. Or at least a good fight.
So “No Future” is finally here is it? Well you could be forgiven for thinking it is, right here in the middle of the ongoing collapse of the US and world economies, and the last days of the planet’s patience with our pesky species.
Even Sir Mick Jagger was once perceived by my parents as heralding not just the death of music as they knew it but also the downfall of Western Civilization, and now he sips Earl Grey tea with their Britannic Majesties.
If you were to look for survivors of Vaudeville Theater, would you find any? What about silent movie stars, any of them still around? And rock musicians are going the same way. Apart from self-inflicted departures, they too are counting down along with the rest of us to the big “Mind that bus. What bus? Splat!”
So how can we pass the time while we’re waiting for the number 69 to Eternity? Why not drop by The Music History Museum.
Take my current audience. Such as it is, it appears to mainly be split into two camps.
There’s the older survivors like myself, the blokes still in or talking about bands they were in 30 years ago along with the people who went to see them, all reminiscing about the old days, and how kids today just don’t know how to rebel.
Then there are the young people who come across my music and writing from time to time in the Music History Museum and hopefully find something to capture their fifteen-second attention span before they move on to the next exhibit.
Me? I’m quite happy here in my glass case, carrying a thirty year old picture of myself around in my head. I’m happy to help young and old alike pass part of a rainy Sunday afternoon or a school trip to the Music History Museum. Why not drop by the gift shop, pick up one of my CDs or my book, Stairway To Nowhere.
I have quite a good view of the fire exit from here