Figureheads
Crimes Yet to be Paid For
“God save the Queen
‘Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems
Oh, God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh, Lord, God have mercy
All crimes are paid”
— The Sex Pistols, “God Save the Queen”
Any reasonable justification to include The Sex Pistols in an essay, I will take it.
There was never a better day than today to bring them into the conversation with “No Kings” rallies taking place all over the country. I admit to taking almost exactly five minutes of my time today reading news updates from the Associated Press from different rallies, and that was about it. Even knowing Bruce Springsteen was headlining the protest in Minneapolis was not enough for me to switch on MSNow or CNN to hear a bunch of speeches about things I already agree with.
But the Sex Pistols…they nailed it back in 1977. In that case, it was puncturing the balloon over the Queen’s Jubilee year. This was another event just beyond my frame of reference. However, for some reason I remember watching the 1977 Wimbledon final between Bjorn Borg and Jimmy Connors, which the Queen attended.
Borg won in five sets. And Virginia Wade won the woman’s title (or “Gentle Lady’s” as is the custom at Wimbledon) which was a big deal given she is British, and she remains the only British woman to have won all four major titles in the Open era. She also had a one-handed backhand, which is infinitely cooler than the two-handed one Borg popularized and remains the standard for most players today.
I am a tennis nerd.
It is strange what event/person/food/movie/whatever that ties you to history. Virginia Wade and Bjorn Borg tie me to the Queen’s Jubilee, NOT The Sex Pistols, which is too bad because it would be far cooler of me to claim The Sex Pistols as my entry into punk music. Alas…The Sex Pistols from 1977 will now tie me to No Kings Marches of 2026.
I will not overextend and potentially piss off half the people who read my Substack and say all of the President’s followers are bad people. They DO have some weird belief systems and an unhealthy relationship with conspiracy theories. A sizeable chunk of MAGA followers think the video reports from various No Kings rallies today were AI-generated. Sooooo…we are dealing with that. But not all MAGA followers are bad people. That is a mathematical impossibility. But…
…I can say with some level of confidence that the President is a bad person. Someone who is probably still called “Dad” by his kids is a demonstrably bad person. His naked aggression to wrest as much power for himself as possible is exhausting and tinged with sexism, racism, elitism, potentially pedophilia and general ugliness toward our fellow man and woman.
“God save the Queen
The fascist regime
It made you a moron
Potential H-bomb
God save the Queen
She ain’t no human being
There is no future
In England’s dreaming”
Replace “Queen” with “Trump” and Johnny Rotten would be screeching about America in 2026. America’s future – in the worldview of MAGA – does not exist beyond Trump’s death and/or removal from office. That is terrifying. It seems impossible to espouse a coherent, cogent view of a healthy, happy, United States of America. Right now, the nation is involved in a military conflict with no discernable motivation that would hold up in world court. Israel seems to be calling the shots anyway, so maybe we should not be too concerned…except for the children being bombed to death, American soldiers dying and complete upheaval to the world economy. Beyond that? We’re solid.
And we haven’t even finished up digesting the Epstein Files:
“God save your mad parade
Oh, Lord, God have mercy
All crimes are paid”
Nope. Not even close.
“Take nothing less
Than the supreme best
Do not obey rumors people say
For you can pass the test
Just move on up
To a greater day
With just a little faith, if you put your mind to it
You can surely do it”
— Curtis Mayfield, “Move on Up”
I also feel compelled to juxtapose Curtis Mayfield with The Sex Pistols because…it just feels right…and because “Move on Up” should have been on the playlist for those rallies today for a completely different reason. While The Sex Pistols were punks with an ironic attitude and a problem with authority; Curtis Mayfield cut his teeth on the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950’s and 1960’s. “Move on Up” was full of hope and idealism, not usually two emotions I am comfortable espousing – which should tell you something about the depths of despair and exhaustion I am feeling right about now. Knowing I am not alone feeling that way is comforting but also discouraging. While Bruce Springsteen is a worthy carrier of the flame for the rallies today, a figure like Curtis Mayfield would have made the day perfect…and probably worth more than five minutes of my time doomscrolling the AP Wire.
Another reason I felt oddly compelled to include Curtis Mayfield in this essay tonight is he died far too young. He was 57 at the time of his death from complications due to diabetes in 1999, which is exactly how old I am as I write this. Ugh. The march of time is a bitch.
The other insanely cool nugget of Mayfield’s life was his induction into the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame in 1999 as part of potentially the greatest induction class in the Hall’s history – Paul McCartney, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Dusty Springfield and The Staple Singers were all part of that class. That is a jaw-dropping list. If I had the energy and/or inclination, I would research who was NOT chosen for induction that year.
Originally, I considered writing about two COMPLETELY different songs tonight regarding friendship and betrayal, something more in my wheelhouse. But I have to save something for tomorrow, Monday and all the days that follow.
And to my friend, Dipti Vyas …I’m coming around on Pink Floyd…Roger Waters-era-Pink Floyd, not David Gilmour-era Pink Floyd.
And I need to get to work on perfecting my one-handed backhand.
What stayed with me wasn’t just the juxtaposition, you moving between God Save the Queen and Move on Up like two different nervous systems but the way memory quietly chose its own anchor.
Not the rupture of Sex Pistols, but the steadier rhythm of Björn Borg on grass. As if history, for you, didn’t arrive as spectacle or defiance, but as repetition: serve, return, breath, until it settled into something almost bodily. There’s something honest in that. We don’t always enter history through its loudest doors; sometimes we inherit it through the sidelines, through a backhand we’re still trying to perfect.
And maybe that’s why the pairing works. The Pistols fracture the surface, Mayfield insists on motion through it. One names the rot, the other refuses to let that naming be the final condition. Between them sits a kind of uneasy faith, not optimism, but refusal.
Also, consider this a quiet acknowledgment of your closing note. I see you turning toward Pink Floyd through Roger Waters’ architecture of critique. But even within David Gilmour’s more atmospheric terrain, there are lines that feel almost inevitable here:
“Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?” Wish You Were Here
It lands differently in this context, not just as nostalgia, but as a question about substitution itself. What gets exchanged, what gets softened, what gets carried forward under a different name.
From one tennis mind to another, there’s something about the one-handed backhand that resists efficiency in favor of form. Not the easiest stroke, not the most modern but when it lands, it feels like memory choosing grace over speed.
Once again, powerful and heartfelt writing. I enjoyed reading this and of course the reference to tennis…love the game! I also enjoyed listening to the songs too…Thank you!