Glen Matlock: ‘I’d never say never to a Pistols reunion but Johnny’s Brexit stuff is a problem’

“Life is a rollercoaster,” Matlock sings, playfully, during our Zoom call. “You just gotta ride it.”

The lyrics clearly speak of his own fascinating career, and he certainly has ridden that rollercoaster. It’s the way he likes it — never staying still, aways trying something new.

His latest creative endeavour is a memoir with a difference. Triggers: A Life In Music tells his story through the prism of individual songs. Some he wrote or co-wrote; the rest are songs by artists who have had a profound impact on him.

It’s a ploy that allows Matlock to write an unconventional autobiography in much the same way that Bono’s critically lauded Songs of Surrender gave him licence to riff on everything and anything on chapters named after song titles.

“It was suggested to me that it’s in vogue to go down that route,” he says, drily. “I think Paul McCartney did the same kind of thing.” His fellow bassist certainly did: Macca’s pair of door-stoppers, The Lyrics, is essential reading for any Beatles obsessive.

Matlock has yet to read the U2 frontman’s book, although he is at pains to point out that he has plenty of time for Bono and the band. “I’m not one of these U2 haters, although I wasn’t so keen on that free thing that you couldn’t not have on iTunes,” he says, in reference to their 2014 album, Songs of Innocence, which was controversially made available for free to all users of Apple’s iTunes. “It’s the sort of thing that devalued the cost of music for a lot of people who weren’t in their financial boat. I’m somewhere in between.”

He recalls an enjoyable time in Bono’s company in Dublin back in 2018. “Shane MacGowan was getting a lifetime achievement award [in the National Concert Hall] and Bono was saying to me, ‘Oi, Glen! I was watching you on the telly last night.’” It was a memorable evening, he says, especially when he found himself smoking and shooting the breeze with Michael D Higgins outside the venue.

Triggers is an illuminating and irreverent read. Matlock is no stranger to writing books. His 1990 memoir, I Was A Teenage Sex Pistol, was well received, especially as it reclaimed his part in the band’s rise, despite efforts by John Lydon and others to downplay his importance.

The new book is a much more philosophical affair and brings his story right up to date.

There’s a fascinating chapter, ‘SOS’, which is named after the Abba song. Matlock has long been an admirer of the Swedes’ songcraft, and he goes into considerable detail about how that arresting, piano-led track masterpiece helped him put shape on Pretty Vacant.

He has long been in thrall to Abba’s songwriting pair, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvæus.

“One of the things I admire about them is that they’re Swedish and they’ve a fantastic command of English,” he says. “The whole idea of incorporating Waterloo — that somebody’s met their Waterloo — would be quite clever for somebody who was from blinking Nuneaton or Clapham.

He would be heavily inspired by the bassline of SOS when it came to writing Pretty Vacant. “Nobody would have known that if I hadn’t opened my big mouth about it,” he says with a laugh.

Although he had left the Pistols by the time their only album, Never Mind the Bollocks, was released he says that — despite a fascinating, chequered CV over the past 46 years or so — all anyone ever wants to talk about is his time in British punk’s most iconic band. “I’m OK with that,” he says. “You make your peace with it.”

He has, of course, toured with the band on several occasions over the years, most famously on the Filthy Lucre tour in 1996. The title was laudable in its honesty: the band had put their differences aside for wads of cash the promoters were waving in their faces.

This has been a busy year for Matlock. Not only was he putting the finishing touches to Triggers, but he also released a well-received solo album and is on tour with a much-loved veteran band.

First, the album. Consequences Coming, like so much of Matlock’s solo work, is politically charged. The title track takes a look at Britain’s lurch to the far right. “It’s been aided and abetted by aspects of the media here,” he says. “They’re more than happy to ratchet up tensions and sow seeds of tension.”

Next, the band. Matlock has been Blondie’s touring bassist for the best part of a year. He and the group’s drummer, Clem Burke, have been friends for several years. “We’ve done loads of projects together and we play well to each other,” he says.

“Last year, we got stuck in New York because one of the band got Covid. Clem lives on the West Coast even though he’s from Bayonne, New Jersey. He hired a car and we drove around Asbury Park as well as where he used to live. It was kind of like an American version of my upbringing.”

Matlock has played with several big names over the years. Immediately after quitting the Pistols — he has always maintained he left and wasn’t fired — he formed a new band, Rich Kids, with future Ultravox members Midge Ure and Rusty Egan. The new wave outfit didn’t last long but Rich Kids demonstrated Matlock’s desire to break free of punk’s then rigid world.

In 1979, he toured with Iggy Pop, who was riding the crest of a wave, having made a pair of startling albums — Lust for Life and The Idiot — with David Bowie. The pair worked closely on an album, Soldier, that was released to largely negative reviews the following year.

Describing his work with Pop as “enormous fun”, Matlock plays Iggy’s songs on the road with a band called Lust for Life. It comprises Clem Burke — when not in Blondie mode — and Katie Pukrick, who is probably best known as a presenter of Channel 4’s groundbreaking early 1990s show, The Word.

“We played as part of this year’s Dublin Bowie Festival,” Matlock says. “It’s just great fun — and, you know, those songs are really enjoyable to play live. There’s just so much energy there.”

Although he says he can become tired of being asked about the Pistols all the time, he’s unfailingly polite when the conversation moves into inevitable territory. Would he play with Lydon, Steve Jones and Paul Cook again? “Well, I say, ‘Never say never.’ But you’ve got to be realistic. I don’t think it’s going to happen now. But, then, I thought that before and we did tour together.

“A big problem now,” he adds, “is Johnny coming out with his mad Trump and Farage stuff.”

But does he truly believe Lydon — who brought out a new Public Image Ltd album this year — really supports such divisive people? Might it be a case of simply being an arch provocateur? Matlock ponders the question. “I don’t really know. John supposedly voted for it and made a big deal out of it.”

He shrugs. “So much of the mess we’re in now comes from Brexit. It’s caused such divisions and they’re as bad as ever. I’ve been very opposed to Brexit on my social media. Someone had the audacity to write to me to say, ‘Glen, don’t you realise that the right wing is the new left wing?’ I looked him up and he’s a Public Image fan.”

Does he believe British voters will finally oust the Tories in the next general election? “I f***ing hope so. But how much better are Labour? I’m not that convinced.”

Triggers: A Life in Music is out now