Review Summary: Sid Sings? Not quite
Recently, there have been some comments on this website about Prussian Blue or Kidz Bop Kidz not being able to sing. Mostly, what the reviewers meant was that the voices of the lead singers on these records were flat, expressionless or not sufficiently varied. Now imagine someone who
really can’t sing. Someone who doesn’t hit a single pitch correctly for the entire half-hour duration of a live show. Did you manage? Then you’re ready for
Sid Sings.
This disastrous attempt at a live release by the then-20-year-old ex-bassist for the Sex Pistols is a perfect example of the anarchy that characterized that legendary punk group as well as its manager, Malcolm McLaren.
It may seem a tad ironic to name an album by someone who can’t sing
Sid Sings, but that’s exactly the point – it’s supposed to be shocking and left-field and out of the ordinary. Hence, what we get here is, in practical terms, an album played and sung by someone who can’t play or sing. And while that may not seem so shocking in this age of teen-pop and Paris Hilton, what
does come across as shocking is the fact that this record is
presented as an album by someone who can’t sing or play. Rather than trying to mask Sid’s glaring innadequacies (like they managed to do in the studio recordings), whoever gave the green light to this album decided to market it as something of a comedy piece, a portrait of a young man being pieced apart by drug abuse and unsuccesfuly coping with the bright lights of stardom.
Musically, then, these are probably the most disastrous 28 minutes ever commited to tape. Despite benefiting from a strong backing band – including elements of The Damned and The Heartbreakers – Sid misses nearly all of his pitches (the closest he comes to being on-key is on
Take a Chance In Me), his bass-playing – when it is audible – is downright awful, his contempt towards the audience is perceptible and the eleven songs on here are effectively butchered beyond redemption. The only bearable songs are Heartbreakers covers
Born To Lose and
Chatterbox and the Pistols’ own
Belsen Was a Gas. And that’s to the trained listener. The average man-on-the-street will probably hear the first dissonant, twangy chord and Sid’s introductory bellow of «OOOOOhhhhhh AAAAAAHHH», stop the record, and head for the store to demand a refund.
As an historical document, however, this is very significant.. Sid was only a few months away from murdering his girlfriend, Nancy Spungen, and a few more away from his own death by overdose. However, here, he comes across as a kid trying to emulate his idols – Johnny Thunders chief among them – blissfully unaware of his shortcomings and – one guesses – utterly convinced that he was set for stardom. His quips to the audience - «is this the personal touch you all wanted?» - his claims that he alone wrote
Belsen Was a Gas, his off-the-cuff remark that «it’s nice to see someone dancing for a change» - would all be nice if they weren’t so tragicomical. If we didn’t know what would happen to Sid, then his hysterical rendition of Frank Sinatra’s
My Way wouldn’t seem quite so prophetical, and to listen to a 21-year-old sing lines like «I’ve travelled each and every highway» or «and now, the tears subside, I find it all so amusing» would seem riotously funny, rather than strangely poignant. As it is, this remains a document, one that must be snapped up by every self-respecting Pistols fan.
In short, don’t approach this record expecting musical quality – in that respect, it is a mess. Regard it, rather, as a document on what a life of drugs and mental unbalance will do to you. Do not mock Sid – see him as an example of what could happen to you, and as a source of motivation to keep you off the wrong track. Music, this ain’t. But it’s unmissable none the less.
For Pistols fans – 5/5
For someone looking for a laugh – 4/5
For everyone else – 0,5/5
Reccomended Tracks
Born To Lose
Chatterbox
Belsen Was a Gas
I love the Sex Pistols...
