Sunday, July 24, 2022

the last book I ever read (Lonely Boy: Tales from a Sex Pistol by Steve Jones, excerpt seven)

from Lonely Boy: Tales from a Sex Pistol by Steve Jones:

Obviously my criminal supersense had not deserted me. I still had my eyes open for a tasty bit of gear. Sometimes I’d go and see a band, decide not to nick their stuff beforehand because I wanted to hear them, and then regret it afterwards, because they were shit. Uriah Heep was one of those, and Genesis, who I saw with Peter Gabriel when he had all the make-up and whatnot, so they were still just about sneaking into the glam category. Imagine all the trouble I could have saved the world if I’d nicked all their stuff!

Just because I was behaving myself at Malcolm and Vivienne’s shop didn’t mean I was neglecting my thieving duties on the fashion side. Knowing them put me on the inside track to some of the good shops that not everyone knew about. There was a place in Covent Garden called City Lights which was run by a guy called Tommy Roberts, a kind of barrow boy/avant-garde type. He’d had other shops, and he may have been involved in the setting up of Let It Rock. He also went on to manage Kilburn and the High Roads, the superior pub-rock band Ian Dury was in before he got his Blockheads together.

Anyway, you could tell this City Lights place was an exclusive kind of deal because Roxy Music got some of their clothes there. I think it was where David Bowie’s Pin-Ups suit came from as well. Also, you couldn’t just walk in off the street, you had to ring the bell and be buzzed up. It was in this strange area round the back of Covent Garden and I can’t remember how, but I worked out a way to get in there. Jimmy Macken and Wally helped me push the door in and empty the gaff into Jimmy’s van. I usually preferred to work alone on bigger jobs. I always felt other people were more likely to bloe it because they didn’t have the Cloak.

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