Lydon is an unabashed grammatical scofflaw who can deploy an earthy colloquialism with the best of them. Anger Is an Energy is packed with this brand of vivid storytelling.” — San Francisco Gate
“Establishes that there’s much more to the person than the public persona.” — Paste
“A hilarious and at times touching account.” — Rolling Stone
“Vintage Johnny Rotten.” — Daily News
“A dishy chronicle.” — Details
“Lydon is at his best when writing about his family - his parents were working-class Irish immigrants - and . . . quite moving in his account of Vicious.” — Los Angeles Times
“Features plenty of morbidly fascinating tidbits from one of England’s least likely national treasures.” — RollingStone.com
“One of the most important figures in punk history.” — Gothamist
“A companion to Lydon’s 1994 memoir, Rotten. His life is rich enough to warrant another . . . and he’s a gifted enough writer to make it a fun read.” — Billboard
“It is clear that, though fond of zingers and political put-downs, Lydon is also a serious and thoughtful artist, bookish and unafraid of hard work, and thus serving as a model citizen in a more ideal republic than ours . . . A lucid, literate pleasure.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Coarse, plain-speaking and mischievous, pitched somewhere between Dennis the Menace and Diogenes the Cynic.” — Financial Times
“Ridiculously entertaining . . . His tales of a near-Dickensian life in Sixties working-class London suggest how an inchoate rebel found his purpose in punk.” — Telegraph
“Fascinating . . . both elegant and blunt.” — The Guardian
“Fills in the gaps that his previous autobiography, ROTTEN left wide open, notably his pre-Sex Pistols days, while also going over old ground with a fully-toothed rake . . . fascinating.” — Irish Times
“John Joseph Lydon’s new autobiography isn’t just about his incarnation as Johnny Rotten, but his upbringing, youth and, later, Public Image Limited and further intrigues. His passion and his intellect remain an inspiration.” — NME
“A ripe, breathless romp through an extraordinary life . . . But this is a serious book too, about how poverty and illness can create pain that can be turned into something positive, presenting a man keen to fill out the nihilistic cartoon that has persisted in pop culture.” — The Observer
“An accurate reflection of the man it seeks to portray: unique, uncompromising, and . . . fascinating.” — Mail on Sunday
“The book is most fascinating about his childhood. I was gripped.” — The Times (London)
“Rollicking [and] rambunctious.” — Irish Examiner
“Both thoughtful and irascible . . . Throughout, Lydon’s skills as a storyteller are in evidence. [He] brings a humour to his recollections and is at pains not to take himself, or the music business, too seriously.” — Irish Independent
“A great autobiography, if you enjoyed Rotten, then you’ll enjoy this too . . . Lydon is always engaging, challenging and entertaining.” — The Register (UK)
Features plenty of morbidly fascinating tidbits from one of England’s least likely national treasures.
A companion to Lydon’s 1994 memoir, Rotten. His life is rich enough to warrant another . . . and he’s a gifted enough writer to make it a fun read.
Lydon is at his best when writing about his family - his parents were working-class Irish immigrants - and . . . quite moving in his account of Vicious.
Lydon is an unabashed grammatical scofflaw who can deploy an earthy colloquialism with the best of them. Anger Is an Energy is packed with this brand of vivid storytelling.
One of the most important figures in punk history.
A hilarious and at times touching account.
Vintage Johnny Rotten.
A dishy chronicle.
Establishes that there’s much more to the person than the public persona.
Ridiculously entertaining . . . His tales of a near-Dickensian life in Sixties working-class London suggest how an inchoate rebel found his purpose in punk.
Fills in the gaps that his previous autobiography, ROTTEN left wide open, notably his pre-Sex Pistols days, while also going over old ground with a fully-toothed rake . . . fascinating.
Coarse, plain-speaking and mischievous, pitched somewhere between Dennis the Menace and Diogenes the Cynic.
Both thoughtful and irascible . . . Throughout, Lydon’s skills as a storyteller are in evidence. [He] brings a humour to his recollections and is at pains not to take himself, or the music business, too seriously.
Fascinating . . . both elegant and blunt.
Coarse, plain-speaking and mischievous, pitched somewhere between Dennis the Menace and Diogenes the Cynic.
Lydon is at his best when writing about his family - his parents were working-class Irish immigrants - and . . . quite moving in his account of Vicious.
Establishes that there’s much more to the person than the public persona.
Rollicking [and] rambunctious.
The book is most fascinating about his childhood. I was gripped.
An accurate reflection of the man it seeks to portray: unique, uncompromising, and . . . fascinating.
A ripe, breathless romp through an extraordinary life . . . But this is a serious book too, about how poverty and illness can create pain that can be turned into something positive, presenting a man keen to fill out the nihilistic cartoon that has persisted in pop culture.
John Joseph Lydon’s new autobiography isn’t just about his incarnation as Johnny Rotten, but his upbringing, youth and, later, Public Image Limited and further intrigues. His passion and his intellect remain an inspiration.
A great autobiography, if you enjoyed Rotten, then you’ll enjoy this too . . . Lydon is always engaging, challenging and entertaining.
04/01/2015
The controversial, always intriguing musician and celebrity Lydon proves himself to be a provocative storyteller in this autobiography. He discusses being raised in squalor in London, contracting spinal meningitis at the age of seven, and how being a marginalized youth fueled his fury as the lead singer of the legendary punk group the Sex Pistols. For the first time, he describes at length his formation of the influential postpunk group Public Image Ltd. and how interpersonal strife and record company interference regularly threatened to derail the band. He also reveals feelings of bitterness regarding the Sex Pistols' reunion tours in the 1990s and 2000s. Throughout, Lydon contradicts his "rotten" persona, speaking thoughtfully and compassionately about friends and enemies (such as Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood). He still manages to settle a few scores along the way. At 500 pages, there are occasional lulls in the action. Despite this, he is funny, cantankerous, honest, and foul-mouthed on every page. VERDICT A must-read for fans of punk rock and popular culture since the 1970s, this work is a worthwhile companion to his fantastic 1993 Sex Pistols memoir, Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs. [See Prepub Alert, 11/10/15.]—Brian Flota, James Madison Univ., Harrisonburg, VA
★ 2015-01-18
Alternately musical bomb-thrower and contemplator Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten, looks back on a long life of pot-stirring and piss-taking.This latest installment is of a piece with the author's earlier Rotten (1994), though some of the caustic anger has given way to a kind of studied resignation. Which is not to say that Lydon isn't irritated; hence the title and the subtitle, which owes to his suspicion that there's always someone who aims to enact some kind of censorship: "It's the kind of ordinance that comes down from people that don't like to think very hard and aren't prepared to analyze themselves, just judge others, and are scared of the future." Some of Lydon's well-aired hatreds have given way, too, even to a kind of—shudder—toleration: Malcolm McLaren, the entrepreneur behind the Sex Pistols, is no longer the Antichrist but instead just another schmo with an idea: "He really didn't want to move mountains at all, he wanted to rearrange piles of glitter." As for Sid Vicious, "dumb as a fucking brush," well, if there was a punk through and through, it might have been him—though he was a victim of fashion and drugs alike. Lydon delivers a few surprises, not just with his newfound ability to accept the flaws of lesser mortals, but also with his allowance of unexpected likes. Confessing a fondness for Status Quo, Arthur Brown and Can might have pegged one as (gasp!) a hippie. It is clear that, though fond of zingers (he once called Ozzy Osbourne a "senile delinquent") and political put-downs, Lydon is also a serious and thoughtful artist, bookish and unafraid of hard work, and thus serving as a model citizen in a more ideal republic than ours. Besides, he's a philosopher: We're capable of horrible evil, he writes, but "because we are also capable of analyzing that, that is exactly why we're better." A lucid, literate pleasure.
