"We get picked up in these Rolls Royces and get three miles down the highway and five cop cars pull us over"
About this Quote
Luxury, speed, and immediate suspicion: Johnny Thunders compresses the whole punk bargain into one grim little chase scene. The Rolls Royces read like a dare, not a reward. They’re the trappings of “making it,” the kind of rock-star validation that’s supposed to neutralize your past. Three miles later, the state reminds you it doesn’t care what the brochure promised. Five cop cars is overkill, and that’s the point: the spectacle of wealth doesn’t grant immunity when your face, your friends, your reputation still register as trouble.
Thunders is also quietly mocking the music industry’s fairy tale. The limo fantasy arrives prepackaged - someone “picks us up” - but it’s instantly contaminated by the policing that follows certain bodies through public space. The humor is deadpan and bitter: you finally get the Rolls, and the first thing it buys you is attention from law enforcement. Success doesn’t dissolve the antagonism; it amplifies it.
In context, Thunders came out of the New York Dolls scene, a band that flirted with glam’s sheen while carrying downtown chaos in its pockets. By the mid-70s, rock stardom was becoming a corporate machine that sold transgression as a product. His line punctures that machine with lived reality: the performance of high status collides with a system trained to treat the delinquent myth as a suspect, even when it’s wearing leather in the back seat of a billionaire’s car.
Thunders is also quietly mocking the music industry’s fairy tale. The limo fantasy arrives prepackaged - someone “picks us up” - but it’s instantly contaminated by the policing that follows certain bodies through public space. The humor is deadpan and bitter: you finally get the Rolls, and the first thing it buys you is attention from law enforcement. Success doesn’t dissolve the antagonism; it amplifies it.
In context, Thunders came out of the New York Dolls scene, a band that flirted with glam’s sheen while carrying downtown chaos in its pockets. By the mid-70s, rock stardom was becoming a corporate machine that sold transgression as a product. His line punctures that machine with lived reality: the performance of high status collides with a system trained to treat the delinquent myth as a suspect, even when it’s wearing leather in the back seat of a billionaire’s car.
Quote Details
| Topic | Justice |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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