I only ever met Malcolm McLaren the once; in later years, we would miss each other a score of times in the Colony Room, but that Malcolm, the '90s Malcolm, was a very different person to the chap I met in the World's End at the seedy end of the Kings Road back in the late '70s. 'Granny takes a Trip' had just moved to its new location, SEX under Vivienne was just starting there, and rant poets galore and punks by the binbagful gathered for snakebites at the old World's End.
The New York Dolls, the Clash, and urban regeneration. The Cremorne Estate was newly built, and the remainder of the old Victorian town houses were being torn down to make way for the red brick battlements of the World's End Estate. The demolition firm were, not at all strangely for those days, largely homosexual, and were known in the pub as the 'gay gutters'.
Strange the things that lurk in the memory.