I’m not sure how you’re supposed to feel when you meet a musician that you admire. In my case the few that I’ve met have not been particularly good experiences. This is the story of how Steve Jones from the Sex Pistols most likely had my weed confiscated from me for his own use.
The band The Professionals were in town playing the premier small concert venue in St. Louis, Mississippi Nights. Was not familiar with much of the band’s material but since two of the members were Steve Jones and Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols and since the band had broken up years previous this was about as good an opportunity that I could get to see some if not all of the band.
My rock companions that night were Bob Morrison and John Ates. We got down to the venue as was often the case as we didn’t have anything better to do. Hanging outside was Steve Jones and the road manager for the group. The road manager was a friendly and talkative individual and we covered all manner of points of discussion. I had some weed that I was sharing with both the road manager and Steve. Steve was sullen and not doing much if any talking.
In our discussions heroin was mentioned. Not they we had any. Not that I, to this very day, have even ever seen it but it came up and the road manager shushed us shooting a glance over to Steve as if to imply do not bring this up around him. Seems our boy Steve might have had a monkey on his back that the road manager was doing what he could to keep off.
Any way, the doors opened and we went in to enjoy the show. As I recall it was a rousing good rocking show and unlike other artists at Mississippi Nights who attempted to abscond with my weed the band was very enjoyable. In fact so enjoyable that I started slam dancing in the area in front of the stage. My buddy Tommy Gun was also doing some slamming. Now this was still early on in the punk era in St. Louis and the term mosh pit had not entered the vernacular yet. So our free form dancing was not appreciated by the establishment and we were both grabbed by burly bouncers. Tommy insisted on fighting with his bouncer escort all the way out the front door while I chose a more compliant and peaceable posture. The end result is I was thrown out without getting punched.
Our expulsion came near the end of the show and we hung around out front. The crowd started filing out and I met back up with Bob and John. Then low and behold Steve and the road manager showed up out front and were asking me about having another smoke. So I got out my bag and started rolling a number for us when out pop the bouncers with fake badges and confiscated the weed and told us to leave or they would call the police.
I was setup!! By one of my guitar heroes none the less. That bastard! Ha ha.
It was an effective move. One that perhaps Steve’s music buddy Johnny Thunders might’ve employed if he wasn’t such a low life junkie. Even lower life than Steve Jones.
But that was the way… in the Rock and Roll Days.