The Chaotic Road to Nowhere: The Sex Pistols’ Anarchy Tour of 1976
The Anarchy Tour of 1976, perhaps one of the most infamous tours in rock history, was marked by controversy, cancellations, and moments that defined the punk movement. It all started with a warning shot in the February 21, 1976, issue of New Musical Express: “Don’t look over your shoulder but The Sex Pistols are coming.” That caution wasn’t just hyperbole. By the time the Anarchy Tour was announced in December 1976, the Pistols had already carved a reputation as the wild enfants terribles of the British music scene, aided by their snarling frontman Johnny Rotten and the chaos surrounding their live performances.
In December, the Pistols were set to hit the road alongside fellow punk pioneers The Clash, Johnny Thunders’ band The Heartbreakers, and The Damned. Nineteen dates were booked in total, with venues scattered across the UK. The idea was to bring punk to the masses. But what transpired was far from the full-scale tour that Malcolm McLaren, the Pistols’ manager, had envisioned.
As Joe Strummer, frontman of The Clash, would later recall in his biography by Chris Salewicz, “They were like a million years ahead. I realised immediately we were going nowhere; the rest of my group hated them.” The arrival of the Sex Pistols in the scene seemed to draw a stark line in the sand. The Clash, just finding their footing in the punk world, suddenly had competition on a different level. It was clear that the Pistols had sparked something that would not only redefine punk but would leave an indelible mark on the cultural landscape.
The bands, photographers, promoters, and roadies all piled into their plush new tour bus. As Mojo magazine would later recount, “Contrary to legend, the destination board on the (tour) bus did not read Nowhere. It was blank.” The bus itself was a far cry from the rough-and-ready image often associated with punk—complete with “comfortably upholstered seats” and a warm interior. Yet, beneath the relative luxury of the ride, tension simmered. The Sex Pistols were at the centre of a brewing storm, and the tour, rather than solidifying their fame, became a lightning rod for moral panic.
The tour’s tumultuous start can be traced back to rehearsals just days earlier. On 1 December, the band appeared on Bill Grundy’s Today show, sparking nationwide outrage after a string of expletives were broadcast live. It was the Pistols’ first major TV appearance, and they arrived in a chauffeur-driven limousine—a far cry from their punk ethos but a testament to Malcolm McLaren’s knack for blending chaos with spectacle. The fallout was instant. “Fucking hell, the band have just sworn on live TV,” McLaren exclaimed, understanding that the scandal would fuel the fire. The media backlash was swift, and when Anarchy in the U.K. was released a few days later, the Pistols were no longer just a band—they were a symbol of rebellion.
The tour was scheduled to begin on 3 December at the University of East Anglia (UEA) in Norwich, with tickets priced at £1.25 in advance and £1.50 on the door. But even before the band could take the stage, the show was cancelled. Vice-chancellor Dr Frank Thistlethwaite made the call to ban the concert, citing concerns over “the safety and security of persons and property.” This would set the pattern for the tour, as local authorities across the UK scrambled to prevent what they saw as a potential powder keg of violence and social disruption.
Out of the nineteen planned shows, only three went ahead as scheduled, with four others hastily rearranged. The tour officially began at Leeds Polytechnic on 6 December, a full three days later than planned. Other shows included dates at Manchester’s Electric Circus on 9 and 19 December, Caerphilly’s Castle Cinema on 14 December, Cleethorpes’ Winter Gardens on 20 December, and Plymouth’s Woods Centre on 21 and 22 December. The remaining dates were axed, primarily due to the authorities’ fear of violence and public disorder, not entirely without cause.
In a sense, the Anarchy Tour lived up to its name not through the music but through the chaos it left in its wake. What was intended to be a showcase of punk’s growing influence became a political statement of its own, as venues across the UK shut their doors to the Pistols. The result was a tour that spent more time offstage than on. As Glen Matlock, the band’s bassist, later reflected,
“Everybody thinks the Anarchy Tour was Hey! Hey! Hey! but it wasn’t. The main thing I remember is the boredom. We didn’t know what the fuck was going on.”
Despite the many cancelled shows, the tour’s impact was undeniable. The Pistols’ battle with censorship, ironically, only added to their allure. While many concerts never happened, the tour became a focal point of the growing youth rebellion in Britain. It captured the zeitgeist of a generation fed up with the establishment and searching for a way to express their frustration.
The tour bus may not have read ‘Nowhere,’ but it was certainly heading there for much of the journey. Yet, even in its failure, the Anarchy Tour became one of the defining moments of the punk movement. Photographer Ray Stevenson’s candid images from the tour capture the raw energy and defiance of the time, showing the Pistols, The Clash, and the other bands involved in moments of boredom and pent-up frustration.
For the Sex Pistols, the Anarchy Tour was more than just a string of cancelled gigs—it was a turning point. By the time it ended, they had cemented themselves as icons of punk, not just for their music but for the way they had shaken up the status quo.
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