`Fat, Forty And Back' -- Sex Pistols Reunite 20 Years After First Shooting To Fame

Concert preview The Sex Pistols, Gravity Kills and Goldfinger, 6 p.m. tomorrow, Bumbershoot Mainstage, Seattle Center; $10 Bumbershoot admission, 628-0888; Bumbershoot hotline: 281-8111.

It's been 20 years exactly since the Sex Pistols' heyday. But for a group with such an instant impact and - until now - short lifespan, they evolved remarkably slowly.

They came out of a group called The Strand, formed in 1972 by schoolmates Steve Jones, Paul Cook and Warwick Nightingale (historically, punk's Pete Best). Jones, who bought his stage clothes from Malcolm McLaren, got the would-be Svengali interested in his band. Eventually, McLaren would transform their prospects.

But it took four years and many changes, including McLaren's first stint as a manager. (This took place in Manhattan, with the New York Dolls.) In the interim, two sidemen were dismissed from the band and John Lydon, "Johnny Rotten," joined as the frontman. He replaced Steve Jones, the group's first lead singer. Then drummer John Ritchie, renamed "Sid Vicious," replaced Glen Matlock as the Pistols' bassist.

At first, the Pistols earned their notoriety slowly. (Their HQ was a brothel; they wore "dirty" T-shirts; they signed to, then left, two record labels.) But their great moment came on Dec. 1, 1976, on then-conservative UK television, when they let loose with a string of expletives. By next morning, newspapers hailed "The Filth - and the Fury," and, from then on, the Pistols' movements were a nonstop circus.

That summer, Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her silver jubilee. And the band released "God Save the Queen," which contained the famous line, "Those tourists are money!!!" Coming at the apex of national celebrations, it was quickly banned from play, and pop charts were published with a blank space for "No. 1."

Falling stars

From these happy heights, though, came rapid descent. After releasing one album and playing sporadically, the band set out for eight American dates. That was January 1978; by the tour's end, the band had split in an ugly welter of recriminations. On Feb. 2, 1979, Ritchie was found dead of a heroin overdose.

Now, says Lydon, "We're fat, forty and back. Filling in the final Sex Pistols' chapter: dot dot dot."

The Pistols play Bumbershoot tomorrow. Their reunion, The Filthy Lucre Tour, was original founder Jones' idea: "For 10 years, I tried to convince John. I knew things just shouldn't end the way they did. We were so naive, we knew so little. I knew we were capable of more."

Which was part of what won Lydon over. Once he published his autobiography ("No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish") to acclaim, "it cleared lots of cobwebs out of the closet." Lydon, claims Jones, "then finally said, `Let's do it.' " Of course, neither had spoken to Glen Matlock - by now, author of "I Was A Teenage Sex Pistol."

Jones, the real founder, now lives in Los Angeles. He has fought his own long battle with heroin, and, with Paul Cook, played in the band The Professionals. Jones also made two solo albums. And now, with members of Guns N' Roses and Duran Duran, he plays with the Neurotic Outsiders - a recent signing of Madonna's Maverick label.

So what's the audience like this time? Always the same, says Lydon: "Ten-year-olds and forty-year-olds. Exclusively. Only. But they totally love it." So, says Jones, does the band. "Lately, we have even thought of writing new stuff. Our chemistry is good and the sound is great. Of course, that don't mean we get on as people. We always pushed each other's buttons, still do. That's what makes the Sex Pistols what they are."

These days, the re-formed Pistols seem sincere: genuinely pleased with the crowds, the press, the adulation. Still, in a changed context, how does the music sound? Almost absurdly good, say most observers. Says Jones, "We've actually been surprised. You know, it's emotional. People have just gone berserk; it's great."