– Lydon and I shared a gramme of amphetamine just before this picture was taken. I think he never looked better than in this photograph. You get a kind of vampiric beauty if you take that much speed, an unearthly glamour. The downside is that you can’t sleep for 72 hours. He was a glutton for his chemicals. I can’t pretend I knew him well, but that evening was the first long conversation we had; the fact that I had a big bag of white powder was purely coincidental. We got through it together and then he was off. He could be a real twat in all honesty. He was more of a diva than Mick Jagger or Keith Richards. He was like bloody Judy Garland, throwing a complete tantrum because some poor photographer from Paris got a bit too close.

Journalist Tony Parsons fortæller om den dag i 1977, han sejlede med Malcolm McLaren’s Sex Pistols-krydstogt på Themsen.