When this album was released, let's face it, the band - as we knew it - no longer existed! Much water had passed under the bridge since that November 6, 1975, when the band first performed as Sex Pistols. The youthful zeal that had kicked off everything, aided by an iconoclastic attitude and the consequent search for new heroes, was naturally dissolving, facilitating the more influential record labels that skillfully embraced the mature and emerging talents of a movement that had always refused to transform into fashion. February 1979 marked, with events of proven historical significance, the band managed (yes, it really was like that...) by manager Malcolm McLaren, such as the departure of Johnny Rotten and even more so the disappearance of the one who would become the indelible icon of an era: Sid Vicious.
The Great Rock 'N' Roll Swindle appears on the market as a decent product, managing to reconcile more the needs of a soundtrack (of a feature film for which one had to wait until the following year) than those of an intriguing collection that objectively has little in common with a typical greatest hits. It will always be a joy to come across a fierce version of Anarchy in the U.K. and its worthy b-side on 45 rpm I Wanna Be Me, while the iaiaiaiaiaii of (I'm not) Your Stepping Stone is still able to make your butt and head jump as in the past, just as the funky bass that introduces Don't Gimme No Lip Child wouldn't even let you imagine how such a lyrical-musical vehemence could become pleasing to the ears. And speaking of rock'n'roll, the inevitable tributes (so to speak) to Bill Haley and His Comets and Chuck Berry could not be missing, respectively with Rock Around the Clock and Johnny B. Goode, also including a necessary tribute to the Who with a raw version of Substitute. In Something Else it's Sid Vicious who mimics Elvis Presley, then launches into a terrifying version of My Way, which, in addition to paving the way for the album, would also appear on Sid Sings, the first album by the bassist published posthumously in December 1979. The curious will certainly be intrigued by the quirky Who Killed Bambi or the unusual versions of God Save The Queen and EMI, even though the title track or Silly Thing will satisfy even the most demanding listener.
The film-documentary shot by Julien Temple in 1978, for which the album serves as a soundtrack, is more enjoyable and impactful. A fun and fictionalized retrospective wanted by the London manager, which will see some Sex Pistols in the roles of improbable actors alongside real characters like Ronnie Biggs (yes, the one from the Glasgow-London postal train robbery of 1963) and Edward Tenpole (who then managed to land a record contract because of this incredible participation!), will make those smile who never imagined seeing Johnny Rotten (only present with archival material) playing the role of Prince of Punk.
It may not be an essential vinyl, but for those who musically lived through the second half of the '70s, it offers the pleasant opportunity to take a dive back and rethink the days gone by, leaving for the younger and curious, a record capable of making them realize how it has become substantial over the years for understanding a (albeit brief) historical-musical period that, like it or not, represented the crossing between a before and an after.