I Want A Sex Pistols Credit Card

At first I found the public’s notably tepid responses to the whole issue a trifle confusing. This is a band who supposedly stood for ‘Anarchy In The UK’ brazenly standing up and promoting something that is, essentially, exactly the opposite. It’s hypocritical at best – even if Richard Branson does seem to be one of the more surprisingly cool rich people out there. Apparently he even lets people stay on his private island for a mere £30,000 a night, which is fuck all really if you happen to also be an extremely rich person.

It got me thinking though – why don’t people seem to care? Well, let’s face it, The Pistols were always basically just a boyband, groomed by Malcolm McClaren as a cash cow and signed to Branson’s label to sell a burgeoning underground movement to the mainstream via pretty faces and nice clothes (courtesy of Vivienne Westwood we might add). They were pre-packaged, well-marketed, digestible and ultimately not as ‘real’ as they may have seemed on the surface. Not ‘real’ like Crass or Black Flag anyway.

So, punk’s not dead. It’s not even the ideology of punk that’s dead. It’s still very much alive, in the raw thrash of bands like Raein and Capitalist Casualties who still rail against anything and everything just for the sake of it, in the mindsets of bands like Trust Fund and Pennycress who relentlessly release great music for consumption rather than profit, and even in the actions of bands like Radiohead and Sleaford Mods who choose to operate outside the traditional fold of the music industry.

What’s blossoming, however, is the rise of the endorsement: the idea that a band’s brand can be sold off to the highest bidder. The fact is, the problem isn’t really a matter of hypocrisy. It’s a matter of corporate entities and the commodification of intangible, intellectual properties. Anyone who’s seen half an Adam Curtis film knows it’s been going on since advertising was knee high to table top. Sure, things have come along way since bonnets were being sold off the back off of 30s movie stars and I never really expected to see lyrics written by a dead rapper printed on the side of a can of pop, but look… can we just embrace what little semblance of a music scene we have left right now?

The chances are, in ten years time, a music industry that’s not interminably entwined with capitalist interests will be a dim and distant memory. Right now, we’re sitting on the edge of a precipice. Endorsements, advertorial and partnerships are becoming commonplace. Culture itself is being rewritten. In a vision not dissimilar to Chuck Palahnuik’s corporately subsidised dystopia in Fight Club all facets of culture – including the abstract idea of culture itself – are now potential commodities. Watch Johnny Depp – or someone like that – go on and on and on about it in a clip from the film above.

It’s nothing new though, and you only need look as far as the high street to see it happening before your eyes. Trend forecasting is an essential part of all brand strategies. From Topman’s expansion into beard enhancement products to McDonald’s having a stab at the pulled pork game, it’s safe to say that if there’s money to be made, said money will ultimately be made by those who already have plenty of it.

Of course, the overarching worry is that everything you love will one day be less edgy once it’s had the life sucked from within by an enormous multinational that’s probably been embezzling your tax payments and claiming benefits at the same time. It’s an inevitable future. Which all sounds a bit… well… sad.

If it’s all sounding too bleak for you, you can always combat the man by buying records and t-shirts from bands who probably don’t really want your money in the first place. They’re usually the best ones anyway. And if that’s too expensive then you can always take out a punk rock credit card to subsidise your addiction.

Problem.

Solved.