Public Image Ltd

Public Image Ltd (P.I.L.) were the quintessential �dark-punk� band, a form of atmospheric rock with sinister undertones that was eclipsing the original punk-rock by the late 1970s. Led by Johnny �Rotten� Lydon, the former Sex Pistols vocalist, P.I.L. not only crafted some of the most unsettling (more claustrophobic than gothic) soundscapes, but also, thanks to technically and intellectually skilled musicians, forged a wholly original style at the intersection of rock and dub. Rather than dwelling purely on the macabre, their music explored all facets of alienation. Far from being simply �gothic rock,� P.I.L.�s work was a psychological exploration of inner torment.

Lydon had matured, and so had his music. The raw anguish expressed by the Sex Pistols through screaming evolved in P.I.L. into long psychodramas steeped in dark atmospheres. The wild rebellion of the Sex Pistols, already tinged with conscious and powerless fear, transformed into paranoid delirium and apocalyptic prophecy. Verbal attacks on authority became meditations on a threatening technological future, a far more insidious form of power.

Where the Sex Pistols relied on public theatrics�diva antics and scandal�P.I.L. pursued a meticulous investigation of the collective psyche. Their approach moved from outside to inside: from the alienation of the metropolitan masses to the individual�s inner anxiety. Lydon reclaimed his �public image� for an arduous and private ceremonial.

The original lineup combined seemingly incompatible styles that instead complemented each other brilliantly. Jah Wobble (John Wardle) provided a monolithic, dub-influenced bass, pushed toward experimentation and ethnic soundscapes. Keith Levene, formerly of The Clash, contributed guitar work evoking distant, sinister spaces with picking that bordered on stretched-out acid rock. Tim Walker�s tribal drumming added a macabre ceremonial tone. Over it all, Lydon�s psychotic, desperate vocals prevailed. The result was fear�but an existential fear, the fear of living rather than dying�with a profound sense of loneliness and desolation dominating their subtle harmonies.

The brief, violent, epileptic bursts of Never Mind underpin long stretches of everyday grayness.

First Issue (Virgin, 1978) represents a clear line of demarcation within the punk adventure: on one side, blind violence; on the other, the psychoanalysis of alienation. The project draws on various sources of inspiration: the Zappa-like dance-psychedelic joke of Fodderstompf, the self-flagellating ritualism of Theme (the manifesto of the new course: demented screams, tortured guitar, heavy rhythm), and Public Image, the last remnant of anthemic hardcore. With these sinister monologues, Lydon reaches the depths of existential depression, wandering aimlessly in a state of "terminal boredom" for a universe reduced to a dark and deserted tunnel.

P.I.L. deliver a masterpiece of dark punk with Metal Box (1979), reissued as a double LP titled Second Edition (1980). The first part includes five long, gaunt tracks, characterized by low, continuous noise, an obsessive and hammering cadence, and a rough voice that seems to crumble in a slow agony among the ruins of a cataclysm. They are de profundis laments for humanity: Swan Lake, a piercing Arabic moan over a driving funk rhythm; Memories, a danceable funk-reggae spiced with orientalism; Optones, a neurotic ballad amidst chaos and dissonance; Careering, a dry, industrial techno-pop; and the anemic chant of Albatros (ten minutes), a desolate vision of eternal perdition. Lydon sinks into abulia, darkening the noise of his music until it becomes nothing more than a pulse, slightly disturbed by passing sounds. The voice, always in the foreground, remains completely "alone": it can scream, cry, or sing, but always relentlessly solitary. His lugubrious delusions send out echoes that wander through the universal desolation of an ideal post-punk "Wasteland."
The second part, however, features an accentuated use of synthesizer, more danceable tracks (the techno-pop of Socialist, the android music-hall of Chant, the danse macabre of Graveyard, and especially the abstract lied of Bad Baby) and some instrumentals (the symphonic and epic Radio 4).
Second Edition shapes the chamber form of punk. The new hypnotic and danceable sound, built from layers of synth and spasms of bass, supports the otherworldly returns of the vocals�sometimes demonic, sometimes childlike�buttressed by the dense, dissonant guitar.

Lydon's maturation continued with Flowers Of Romance (Virgin, 1981), which on one hand softened the rhythmic impact by giving up the marked support of the bass (Jah Wobble had begun a solo career) and absorbing the "African" inclinations of the new drummer Martin Atkins, while on the other hand expanded the range of instruments (batha, violin, bagpipes, African percussion). Stripped down and rarefied in this way, the sound of Four Enclosed Walls gives greater emphasis to Lydon's muezzin-like vocals, the minstrel of alienation. The album unfolds over this framework, still imbued with despair (the funeral-like Phenagen takes its title from a brand of barbiturates). Fleeting sessions with oriental elements (Chinese bells, Native American tribalism, Tibetan mantras, Arabic lullabies, Indian sitarisms) evoke magic from the Freudian and lysergic labyrinths of Flowers Of Romance and Phenagen. Lydon seeks sounds suitable for his horrific ruminations on existence, drawing both from primitive ethnic music and electronic music, knowing that the combined effect is all the more disorienting (see Hymie's Him, a mute and frenzied crucible of percussion and electronics).
Another hidden influence of Lydon, the cultivated avant-garde, continues to appear in small fragments of tape music, minimalism, and soundscapes, supporting entire atmospheres, as in the noises of Francis Massacre and Under The House, where a frenzied rhythm underpins interstellar messages, oriental laments, funky syncopations, and "Reichian" clap-music.
Lydon�s �flowers� stand alongside those of Baudelaire, who was the first and supreme zealot of spleen. The propitiatory dance of Flowers Of Romance, with its cascade of esoteric symbols, is the breviary of "Lydonian" nihilism and its ultimate metaphysical aspiration.

The music of Lydon and Levene ranks as one of the most austere of the 1980s in rock music. In P.I.L.�s songs, creativity, professionalism, and ideology converge toward a goal that is anything but entertainment. Hence the three years of recording hiatus, interrupted only by the single This Is Not A Love Song (1983), which revisits an intense climax, albeit somewhat compromised by commercial temptations. This Is What You Want (Elektra, 1984) sees Levene�s departure�a loss that is strongly felt.

In full celebration of punk�s tenth anniversary, Album (Elektra, 1986) boasts a stellar lineup (Ginger Baker on drums, Steve Vai on guitar, Bill Laswell on bass, Ryuichi Sakamoto on keyboards, and Ravi Shankar on violin), confirming that Lydon is first and foremost a great conductor. In full punk revisionism, the sound of the new P.I.L. is commercial, though it still denounces the boundless evils of the human soul with affected spleen. The anthem FFF, the REM-like jingle-jangle of Rise, the �Hendrixian� tribalism of Fishing, and the heavy metal of Home mark a definitive shift toward more commercial templates.
Album marks Johnny Lydon�s full embrace of more commercial formats. He had always surrounded himself with outstanding musicians: Keith Levene (guitar), Jah Wobble (bass), and Jim Walker (drums) for the first album; Martin Atkins (drums) for the second and third; and so on. Yet, as the talent quotient grew, the experimental thrust diminished.

Happy (Virgin, 1987), with John McGeoch of Magazine on guitar and Bruce Smith of Rip Rig & Panic on drums, focuses on danceable disco sounds, attempting to carve out a niche even for P.I.L. More than the weak choruses or the predictable funky rhythms, what ennobles it are the arrangements�slightly alienated but highly neurotic, like B52's freshly discharged from a psychiatric hospital.
The rhythm and blues horns and pub-sport choir of Seattle (intended as the next venomous anthem, but merely a solid disco rap), the funky-soul syncopations of Body, the blues guitar chords of Hard Times, the gospel choir of Rules And Regulations, and the boogie riff with Mexican fanfares in Fat Chance Hotel enliven a soundscape that is not exactly at the cutting edge.

The same lineup was used for the following 9 (Virgin, 1989). While the previous album�s tracks were punctuated by eccentric arrangements, 9 layers them: stacking electronic keyboards, guitar riffs, female choruses, string sections, horn sections, and tribal percussion. The album stands at the opposite pole from the desperate rage of the Sex Pistols and the depressive crisis of early P.I.L.: Happy is a joyful celebration of hedonism in music. Once again, the female choir adorns the Latin-tinged (and slightly punchier) Disappointed and emulates the Pointer Sisters� sound on Like That.

The �eco-friendly� single Don't Ask Me was another success (1990). Those who thought Lydon had hit rock bottom had to reconsider with the release of That What Is Not (Elektra, 1991), which was even more pompous and irritating (the single Cruel). These later albums forced a reevaluation of the entire oeuvre of this eminent charlatan.

Nonetheless, from the barbaric and wild punk assault of the Sex Pistols to the grotesque Dadaism of the first P.I.L., from the �dub� nightmare of Second Edition to the suicide rock of Flowers Of Evil, Lydon completed one of the most provocative arcs in rock history. Each album was a small disappointment to fans of the previous one, even if (especially considering) somewhere the original, rebellious, and iconoclastic spirit of Johnny Rotten always remained�albeit as if entombed alive. Lydon has always speculated on a paleo-Christian imaginary combining martyrdom and apocalyptic prophecy. P.I.L. served as the artistic vehicle for this phobia, just as the Sex Pistols had been the vehicle for his hedonistic expression.

John Lydon's third life started with the solo album Psycho's Path (Virgin, 1997), that signals his familiarization with electronic technology and with dance music (and with the younger generation of English musicians). Now a resident of Los Angeles, Lydon puts aside sarcasm and rage and composes moody techno (Psycopath and Open Up, a collaboration with Leftfield). Lydon lost this train a long time ago.

PIL reunited for This Is (2012), that contains the ten-minute Out of the Woods but is generally forgettable, and for What the World Needs Now (2015).

Now a US citizen, John Lydon became a supporter of Donald Trump's neofascist movement (as well as a supporter of Nigel Farage's xenophobic movement in Britain), thus removing his mask of revolutionary and intellectual.

Keith Levene died in 2022 at the age of 65.