In a sleazy dive somewhere between purgatory and Camden Town, lit by flickering neon and reeking of piss and amphetamines, Riffs and Beats managed to sit down with Sid Vicious, the snarling ghost of punk, back from the abyss for one last sneer at the world that kept spinning without him.
Riffs and Beats
Sid, what do you make of today’s music scene?
Sid Vicious
It’s plastic with a beat. Someone turned it into a fucking showroom, all clean surfaces and no guts. Back in the day, a gig was sweat, spit, broken strings and maybe a fight. Now it’s brand partnerships and TikTok choreography. You’ve got kids worried about engagement before they write a lyric. Music used to be a punch in the throat, now it’s just background noise for ads. Everyone wants to be heard but no one’s got anything worth screaming.
Riffs and Beats
Is punk dead, or just cosplaying itself in 2025?
Sid Vicious
Punk didn’t die, it got sold out and shrink-wrapped. They took what was ugly and raw and dangerous and made it safe. Kids dress like punks now, but they’ve got iPhones in one hand and oat lattes in the other. Punk was about not fitting, not pretending. It was chaos in leather, not a fashion show with attitude. If your boots cost more than your rent, you’re not punk, you’re a tourist.
Riffs and Beats
How would you survive in a world of Instagram filters and mindfulness apps?
Sid Vicious
I wouldn’t. I’d get banned on day one or overdose live on someone’s feed. The world today wants you soft, digestible, user-friendly. That’s not survival, that’s sedation. Back then, we lived loud and messy. Now it’s all curated. You can’t rage in pixels. You can’t bleed through a filter. I needed the noise, the wreckage, the smell of bad decisions. Give me graffiti over algorithms any day.
Riffs and Beats
If the Sex Pistols started now, what would be different?
Sid Vicious
We’d never make it past the first rehearsal. We’d be cancelled, sued, shadowbanned, maybe arrested. The Pistols were a time bomb, not a product. No label today would touch us without a PR safety net and a social media team. We didn’t care about being liked, we cared about being loud. We weren’t a brand. We were a breakdown with guitars. That doesn’t translate well into today’s terms of service.
Riffs and Beats
You were chaos incarnate. Would you have ever mellowed out with age?
Sid Vicious
Mellow? Me? That word doesn’t exist in my dictionary, mate. If I had lived, I’d probably be some raving lunatic making noise art in a squat. I didn’t have a five-year plan, I barely had a five-minute one. People want redemption stories. I wasn’t built for those. I was built for short, loud, and gone. The only way I was ever going to slow down was by stopping completely.
Riffs and Beats
What do you think of the whole mental health awareness thing in music today?
Sid Vicious
It’s weird, but kind of brilliant. Back then, no one gave a toss if you were cracked inside. You just drowned it or snorted it away. Now at least people admit they’re fucked up. Maybe if someone had asked how I was doing instead of handing me another pill, things would’ve gone differently. Mental health should be a mosh pit, messy, honest, loud. At least now some people have a chance to scream and be heard before they vanish.
Riffs and Beats
You and Nancy, love story or mutual destruction?
Sid Vicious
It wasn’t a story, it was a crash. We weren’t good for each other, but we were all we had. It was ugly, twisted, and sometimes weirdly beautiful, but it was real. People like to romanticize us. Fuck that. We were two broken kids tangled up in drugs and damage. There was no script. Just fire and ash. If I could do it again… I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t erase it either.
Riffs and Beats
What’s your take on rebellion today?
Sid Vicious
Rebellion now is a hashtag and a hoodie line. It’s rebellion for sale, neat and pre-approved. Back then, we got chased, banned, punched. You had to earn your middle finger. Now people act rebellious on their lunch break, then clock back in at their desk job. If it doesn’t cost you something, it’s not rebellion. It’s a costume. True rebellion gets you kicked out, not clicked on.
Riffs and Beats
You’re still a punk icon. You ever think that’s ironic?
Sid Vicious
Icon? What a bloody joke. I couldn’t even tune my bass half the time. They turned me into a t-shirt. People wear my face who wouldn’t survive ten minutes in the world I came from. I wasn’t meant to be remembered – I was meant to self-destruct in style. But if being a mess helps someone else be honest, maybe it’s not all sh*t. Still, don’t call me a legend. Just call me gone.
Riffs and Beats
Final scream from beyond the grave, Sid?
Sid Vicious
Burn it down. Rip it up. Don’t get polite. Don’t get safe. If the world makes sense, you’re probably doing it wrong. Smash your idols, make your own noise, and don’t wait for permission. Life’s too short for good behavior. If you’re not making someone nervous, you’re not trying hard enough.
As our time unraveled like an amp cable in a mosh pit, Sid stood up, flicked his cigarette at the wall, and muttered something about stealing God’s lighter. Then he vanished in a buzz of distortion and static. No goodbye, no handshake, just a trail of feedback and the faint smell of gasoline.
