Credit: Book cover

There was a time in the 1980s where—by his own admission—Glen Matlock was a heavily imbibing alcoholic. He’d been told that by keeping his stomach full, the ill effects of the booze could be stymied (or at least lessened), and his solution was to grab a packet of cheese and onion crisps (i.e., potato chips for you Yanks) to fill his gullet.

Upon ripping the packet open, he thought for sure his drinking was now the cause of hallucinations, as he could plainly see that his name—and spelled correctly—was printed on the inside of the bag. Upon closer inspection, he was shocked to find that finding his name there was not a sign from beyond, but the printed answer to a trivia question from the chip manufacturer: “Who did Sid Vicious replace in the Sex Pistols?”

Perhaps no band in the history of rock has had the widest gap between notoriety and influence against actual recorded output than the Sex Pistols. Pioneers of punk rock music and controversial media provocateurs (even if they were largely egged on by a “shocked” English press), their only proper album was 1977’s Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols.

And by the time it was finally released, bassist Matlock had already left the band, only appearing on one track—though it was the band’s anthem “Anarchy in the UK” (he did co-write 10 of the 12 songs, though). Matlock charts his life and career in and out of the Pistols (and in and out again) among his other musical and life pursuits in Triggers: A Life in Music (336 pp., $29.99, Insight Editions).

The “triggers” of the title are not just a play on the Sex Pistols name, but Matlock’s term for crucial and often unplanned turning points in his life that led to something else. Like how the teen with a fondness for crooner Anthony Newley went searching for a pair of “brothel creepers” (thick shoes made of suede or leather) in a store called Let It Rock on the “wrong end” of King’s Road in West London (the book helpfully includes a glossary of particularly English terms including “bunked,” “chuffed,” “Jack-the-Lad,” “naff,” “skint” and “suedeheads”).

How that shopping trip led to a job offer from owner Malcolm McLaren, meeting customers (and occasional thieves) Steve Jones (guitar) and Paul Cook (drums). How he joined the pair’s fledgling band and—after adding a certain John Lydon, aka the incendiary Johnny Rotten on vocals—became the Sex Pistols. And how for a brief time they became the World’s Most Controversial Band.

Matlock writes about it all in a fast-paced and entertaining clip, including his part in writing the main riffs for the band’s Holy Trinity of tunes: “Anarchy in the UK,” “Pretty Vacant” (which he says originated with a sound from—of all sources—ABBA’s “SOS”), and “God Save the Queen.”

The last became their most controversial tune with its opening lyrics “God save the queen/The fascist regime/They made you a moron/Potential H bomb/God save the queen/She’s ain’t no human being/And there’s no future/In England’s dreaming.” Not surprisingly, it caused “outrage” and was specifically timed for release to coincide with the monarch’s Silver Jubilee.

He also gives the details on one of the most infamous incidents where music met television: The Sex Pistols appearance on English broadcaster Bill Grundy’s Today talk show. A last-minute replacement for Queen (it seems Freddie Mercury was having dental work done), the band appeared on the set with a group of fans, including a pre-Banshees superfan Siouxsie Sioux.

They had been drinking beer and wine in the studio’s green room for hours, so when it came time to set across from the middle-aged, longtime broadcaster Grundy (who himself may have had a few pre-show nips), the interview was doomed to failure as the haughty host asked belittling questions to the soused and snotty young people.

As members let out a few “shits” and “fucks” on the air, Grundy seemed to encourage the behavior. When he attempted to saucily suggest to Siouxsie they get together after the show, Jones called him a “dirty old fucker.”

The entire segment lasted about two and a half minutes and aired unedited. It sunk Grundy’s career, but it kickstarted the Pistols’ as headlines screamed about their bad behavior. Nervous venues cancelled many dates on their tour, but (as one headline proclaimed), “the Filth and the Fury” made them household names overnight.

But trouble was already brewing among the quartet. Success and notoriety seemed to go to Lydon’s head; Jones and Cook formed an inter-band unit of their own; McLaren was doing odd things with the money. And Matlock notes that McLaren was not the powerful and cunning Svengali manager that history has painted him out to be.

Lydon was hoping to bring in his friend to replace Matlock, with whom he was butting heads. A friend who had no musical ability, but certainly looked the punk rock part: John Ritchie, aka Sid Vicious. And the band was dropped by two record labels before they could even record most of Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols.

Matlock says he left of his own accord, and the entire band only lasted to the end of a disastrous and chaotic short U.S. tour. He was pissed that McLaren framed it as a firing and issued a press release saying the reason was that Matlock was too fond of Paul McCartney and the Beatles.

The band’s last show taking place on January 14, 1978 at San Francisco’s Cow Palace. After playing a cover of the Stooges “No Fun” to finish a truncated set Rotten famously told the audience “Ever feel like you’ve been cheated? Good night!” dropped the mic and walked offstage. Sayonara, Sex Pistols.

But Matlock’s musical adventures continued with the formation and dissolution of the Rich Kids (which he spearheaded), stints with Iggy Pop and Blondie, and encounters with the Faces, David Bowie, Joe Strummer, and a host of musical names. He is now a permanent member of the current Blondie lineup, and released a solo record last year, Consequences Coming.

The troubled Vicious died in 1979 of a drug overdose. So when the Sex Pistols reformed in 1996 for the appropriately-named “Filthy Lucre” reunion tour, Matlock was back on bass. A live album was released, but no further studio effort was attempted.

Additional shows happened in 2006-2007, but the likelihood of further gigs is not likely, as Lydon has split with the other three over both the recent Pistol FX docuseries about the band based on Jones’ memoir, and political views. Yes, quite unbelievably, sneering Punk Rock Poster Boy Johnny Rotten is now a full-fledged member of MAGA Nation!

And while it seems like a really lost opportunity Matlock didn’t include a photo insert, he certainly uses no-frills and vivid language in Triggers to illustrate that Life in Music.

Bob Ruggiero has been writing about music, books, visual arts and entertainment for the Houston Press since 1997, with an emphasis on Classic Rock. He used to have an incredible and luxurious mullet in...