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Malcolm McLaren

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GodSave_JohnLydon

Interview: God save John Lydon

When Sex Pistols impresario Malcolm McLaren coined the phrase "cash from chaos," he may have been describing his own filthy lucre, but for the members of rock's most explosive group, the fiduciary comeuppance was and has been eternally forthcoming.

By DANIEL BROCKMAN  |  October 12, 2012
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Guitartyrs?

From the late '70s to the late '80s, Anglophile guitar rock went through a strange period of adjustment following the Year Zero history eradication brought on by capital-P Punk and its subsequent slaying of the Guitar Hero.
Some unsung Brit guitar heroes
By DAN BROCKMAN  |  June 26, 2009

Harold Wells made up this headline, too


Letters to the Boston editor, September 26, 2008
By BOSTON PHOENIX LETTERS  |  September 24, 2008
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Unauthorized!

I think it may have been sometime in the 1970s that the term “unauthorized” became sort of cool.
Axl Rose, Albert Goldman, and the renegade art of rock biography
By JAMES PARKER  |  February 15, 2008
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Police force

Along came the Police, packing cold, steely hits with flashes of heat.
Many little things they did were magic
By SALLY CRAGIN  |  July 25, 2007
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Bonde do Rolê

You’re better off letting Bonde do Rolê drop their glorious little dumb bombs directly on your id.
With Lasers | Domino
By RENÉ SPENCER SALLER  |  July 09, 2007


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Who you callin’ a punk?

Jamaica Plain–based freelancer and Allston-Brighton Community Development Corporation staffer Steven Lee Beeber was waiting for a plane at the airport a number of years ago when his girlfriend let out a gasp.
Down by law
By IAN SANDS  |  November 01, 2006
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Future heads

Matador head and contrarian tastemaker Gerard Cosloy recently wrote: “No, post-punk does not actually exist.”
Digging for post-punk gold
By FRANKLIN BRUNO  |  June 13, 2006
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Post-punk prophet

With a narrative arc that begins in the London dub dungeon of Public Image Limited and ends in the worldbeating semen storm of Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the whole grand experiment of post-punk is tracked and given coherence.
Simon Reynolds rips into rock’s strangest era
By JAMES PARKER  |  March 21, 2006