Leave your television on for an hour, and you will be greeted with a barrage of world issues. Whether it’s climate change, war, extreme weather, the uprising of fascism, pollution, or the existence of ITVBe – it becomes clear that we are staring down the barrel of an apocalyptic future. Or End of World, perhaps.
John Lydon and his loyal bandmates are back after an eight-year gap with their 11th studio album, End of World. This 13-track offering comes off the back of a rollercoaster few months for Mr Lydon. It started with an attempt to represent Ireland in the Eurovision song contest and was quickly followed by the passing of his wife of over 40 years, Nora, in April.
This album carries aspects of both of these recent events. There are bouts of anger on display, a soft side where Lydon opens his heart, and smatterings of camp playfulness. The trademark PiL sound is mixed with some more laid-back, more relaxed songs. Can all these things sit together like a band of happy campers? Let’s see…
First up is the brooding, lumbering rock sound of ‘Penge’. Not an ode to the Bromley suburb but a track about money – penge is Danish for money, originally meaning the English penny. Another school day moment. Lydon described it as “something of a mediaeval Viking epic”. That is a cracking description. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if the Slovenia band Laibach had released this. It has that post-industrial rock sound—a healthy start to the album.
A healthy dose of punk guitars guides us into ‘End Of The World’. This feels very much like a PiL song. From the crunching guitars, pounding rhythm and Lydon espousing his stentorian proclamations, it is an authentic and unmistakable PiL track. “No surrender/No cowards here/The End of the World”, shrieks Lydon. Fighting to the end epitomises Lydon and his attitude.
‘Car Chase’ smacks of the 80s. The fuzzy synth takes me towards The Human League or Man 2 Man Meet Man Parrish. The song tells the story of someone who escapes from a mental institution at night, unknown to the staff. Lydon says of the track, “It’s based on going to shopping malls at night for cigarettes and wine and seeing the vast carpark space and lighting surrounded by a little village and a lot of dark trees and country lanes. It’s a creepy scenario; what if somebody creeps out of there like a mad lunatic?”. Indeed.
Students, eh? Always whining about this cause or that cause. Bloody arseholes. That is Lydon’s take on ‘Being Stupid Again’. It seems to pitch all students as Rik from The Young Ones. “You’re being spongers again/You’re being minges again”, spits Lydon. He puts students and hippies into the same bracket – Lydon has never been a fan of the hippy. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Daily Mail adopts this song as an anthem against those lefty students. It comes across as a little puerile and childish. Though I admit to chuckling as Lydon shouts, “All Maths is racist!”.
“Your ignorance will be your fall from grace/Martyrs and morons to the slaughter”, Lydon announces at the start of ‘Walls’. A song of self-isolation from the world, hiding away from the perceived threats in life – erecting physical and metaphorical walls. The media and certain politicians have a lot to answer for, creating fear and anguish instead of togetherness and harmony.
‘Pretty Awful’ sees Scott Firths’ bass bubble along as Lydon grunts, growls, and sneers through some very unusual lyrics. “You smell like a bag of mice!” shouts Lydon, which is undoubtedly one of the finest lyrics I’ve ever heard. An 80s rock sound with sound-appropriate backing vocals feels a little unexciting.
If you like your PiL slow and lumbering, then ‘Strange’ will be right up your alley. Bruce Smith’s driving drumbeats take the lead here, with Lydon’s lyrics smeared over the top. Cranking up the dub quotient, ‘Down On The Clown’ goes for a meandering stroll and forgets to take a map. It feels like a demo track that sneaked onto the master recording when the producer went for a sandwich.
All aboard the music hall train, we hear the band make a decent impression of Ian Dury and The Blockheads. Songs like ‘Inbetweenies’, ‘This Is What We Find’ and ‘Quiet’ spring to mind as I listen to ‘Dirty Murky Delight’. The whole Eurovision thing left a mark, as this song is as camp as a row of tents. There’s a creepy feel as Lydon utters the words, “Dirty Murky Delight/One lick and you know it ain’t right”. It is a fun, if not slightly disturbing, song and shows Lydon still has a sense of humour. There should be a video containing an old cartoon of animals doing the Charleston to this. Welcome to the inside of my mind, folks.
Next up, the band go glam rock with a decent smattering of Adam and the Ants. A song all about non-conformism and daring to hold different opinions, ‘The Do That’ smacks of Lydon’s life. Never one to toe the line, he has also never been afraid to speak out, even if it isn’t a popular opinion.
‘L F C F’ has a slight Devo feel to it. The initials stand for liars, fakers, cheats and frauds and seems to be squarely aimed at his ex-Pistols bandmates. “Give yourself a story, empty of history/And wrap it up in Mickey Mouse”, points to Pistol, the Disney mini-series released in 2022. Lydon sings how he loves all the hatred towards him. Maybe a dignified silence would have been a better option, as it sounds a bit petulant. Anger may be an energy, but this would be lucky to soften some Country Life butter gently.
Another stomp-a-long-a-PiL track is ‘North West Passage’. A song about a North American maritime passage seems like an odd choice for a song, but it bookends ‘Penge’ quite well.
Hankies out now. The final song on this album is ‘Hawaii’. This was the song the band entered as the Republic of Ireland’s song for the 67th Eurovision Song Contest. More importantly, it is probably the barest Lydon has ever publicly laid his soul. This song is a deeply personal yet ultimately a universal love song. Lydon said, “It is dedicated to everyone going through tough times on life’s journey with the person they care for the most. It’s also a message of hope that ultimately, love conquers all.”
This gentle, Polynesian-inspired ballad is a love letter to Nora, John’s wife of over four decades. As previously mentioned, Nora died in April 2023 after living with Alzheimer’s Disease for several years. “Don’t fly too soon/No need to cry, in pain/You are loved/Again again/Hawaii/You and me/All those good times”, sings Lydon. I’m not crying; you’re crying.
It seems fitting this track brings the album to a close. A hugely significant part of Lydon’s life has come to an end, beautifully celebrated and forever documented. Rest in peace, Nora.
Public Image Limited have been around for 45 years now. It is clear Lydon still has things to say, and the band have a desire to continue to create music which embraces his lyrics. Whether you like him or not, it is imperative that people like Lydon continue to cause furrowed brows and upset various apple carts.
End of World contains some great tracks with very different merits. “Penge’, ‘Car Chase’, ‘Dirty Murky Delight’ and ‘Hawaii’ stand out positively for a plethora of reasons. However, there are parts of the album that feel out of place. Some songs lack finesse, as if they are works in progress rather than completed tracks. That may sound harsh, but I know what PiL can produce – there are examples of this on this album.
This album is a collection of parts that do not coalesce into a whole. It is said that Nora loved it. Maybe that’s reason enough for you to give it a spin. I can’t help but feel the album would have been a tighter, leaner offering with fewer tracks. But as Lydon once said, “I’m not here for your amusement. You’re here for mine.”
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