A 30-Year Career In Rupert The Bear's trousers and a Ronald McDonald haircut has seen Malcolm churn out some of the poorest old shite in creation....

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Behind The Front

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Behind The Front

A 30-YEAR CAREER IN RUPERT The Bear’s trousers and a Ronald McDonald haircut has seen Malcolm churn out some of the poorest old shite in creation. After a stint as tailor to the rubber fetishists of the Chelsea ex-art school set (as co-owner of the shop, Sex), the Colonel Tom Parker of punk (Sex Pistols) and procurer of underage girls (Bow Wow Wow), Malcolm’s ambitions as impresario knew no bounds.

But his one-hit wonder hip-hop novelty record ‘Buffalo Gals’ was as good as it got. Who remembers ‘She Sheriff’, the opera project? Or the abominable waltz collaboration with Dave Stewart, Jeff Beck and Bootsy Collins? No fucker, that’s who.

Still, always happy to flog a dead horse, Malc has, like a dog to its own vomit, returned to the early-’80s when a few deluded souls still thought he was a subversive visionary, for another shot at corrupting the nation’s youth. Old-skool hip-hop being in the house and all that, rap luminaries – well, KRS-One and De La Soul: who have both been sitting on the corner shop shelves smelling of fish a few weeks too long and have fought each other to the death to be allowed to remix some of the duff tracks from ‘Duck Rock’, McLaren’s masterpiece.

It will at least get McLaren some column inches in those style sections that fall out of your Sunday broadsheet, where some toffee-nosed Oxbridge pseud who “really admired the energy of punk” will drone on about the cultural significance of Talcy Malcy. Sorry, but it’s kack. And don’t give us any of that “the idea is better than the actuality” stuff neither, Mr Man, because the ideas are gubbins too.

We’ll hold out for the Sasha remix of Roland Rat’s ‘Rat Rapping’.