Sex Pistols, The: Music Box Biographical Collection: DVD

Apr 05, 2006

Outside of any GG Allin encounters, have you ever seen an animal lap up a puddle of another animal’s vomit—only to heave that back up? If you have, you know just how slurpy and unnerving it is. I’m not talking about politicians here, though this would certainly apply to them as well. I’m talking about shameless animals whose meager sense of decorum has been yanked out of them like the guts of a dressed-out deer and whose pride has fallen away like clumps of mangy fur or dingy, leprous flesh. They are, in T.S. Eliot’s terminology, the “hollow men.” Such are the base creatures on display in this somnific, worthless little turd of a DVD entitled Sex Pistols: Music Box Biographical Collection. If you are unfortunate enough to stumble upon this laughably pointless pseudo-documentary “about the Sex Pistols,” you will quickly see exactly what I mean.  This DVD is nothing—and let me emphasize: NOTHING—but roughly one hour’s worth of interviews with blobby British “music critic” nobodies telling you everything you already know about the Sex Pistols, while herky-jerky video loops of all the familiar Pistols’ archival film footage and photos are projected behind their fat, prattling heads. And that’s it. Not a single interview with a green-teethed band member or a self-important manager or even a thuggish tour security goon. Just “exclusive interviews” with multi-chinned music journalist blowhards you’ve never heard of and you never want to hear from ever again. Positively stupefying. Garishly banal, uninsightful, and uninteresting, the content on this DVD isn’t even warmed over: it’s a cold and gloppy cup of twice-chucked upchuck. Drink if you must, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Pure, wretched twaddle. –Aphid Peewit