Eventually they hit the awesomely bleak nadir that is the doom-riff-y "Religion." Before diving in, Lydon excoriated a society that would deny a person under 18 permission to enter his show at Royale (although a quick survey of the audience did not reveal many in attendance who were at all skirting that age limit) and yet allow that same young person to come within close proximity of the slimy grip of a priest. It was a ludicrous statement that still managed to give palpable heft to the dynamo run-through of said tune. Lydon lifted his spindly finger and pointed at individual members of the audience, emphasizing over and over the tune's mantra of "This is what they've done/This is your religion." As we all mentally ducked his steely gaze, staring down the barrel of his damning finger, we began to understand what it was to witness an intimate show with Johnny Rotten himself: he wasn't trapped with us, forced to entertain us, we were trapped in here with him and his oversized personality. It was mildly terrifying, it was hysterical, it was thrilling, it was ridiculous, and it was glorious.
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