Category: Uncategorized

Pet Expenses Spark Fresh Outrage Over MP Privileges

In a development that feels almost satirical — yet is entirely real — Labour MP Taiwo Owatemi has managed to ruffle more than a few feathers by charging taxpayers £900 yearly for her cockapoo’s “pet rent.” The timing couldn’t be worse, coming right on the heels of Labour’s backing of £5 billion in benefit cuts.

The revelation about Owatemi’s furry friend Bella has struck a particularly raw nerve. After all, it’s barely two months into 2025, and most Brits are still grappling with sky-high energy bills and mounting grocery costs.

“This is nothing short of a disgrace,” says Hannah Campbell, a disability campaigner who lost her leg serving in Iraq. “When disabled people are watching their support get slashed, we’re apparently meant to accept that MPs can charge us for their dogs?” Campbell’s frustration echoes across social media, where the story has sparked heated debates about political privilege.

The expense itself — technically legitimate under parliamentary guidelines — covers a landlord-imposed pet surcharge for Owatemi’s London digs in Plumstead. The 32-year-old party whip shells out £2,340 monthly for the property, with Bella’s accommodation fee neatly tucked into the broader housing arrangement.

Labour Party defenders have trotted out the usual explanations. “MPs are required to work in two locations,” they argue, pointing out that the Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority (Ipsa) gave the expense their stamp of approval. But somehow, that’s not quite cutting it with the public.

Perhaps the timing makes it all the more jarring. Labour’s already weathering a storm of controversy over perks — there’s Rachel Reeves and her £600 corporate box seats at that Sabrina Carpenter gig, not to mention Sir Keir Starmer’s Taylor Swift concert kerfuffle. (Remember that whole debate about politicians and pop culture authenticity?)

Owatemi, who entered Parliament in 2019 and works as a qualified pharmacist, hasn’t exactly been shy about her four-legged friend. Her social media’s peppered with posts celebrating “the amazing work” of animal welfare organizations. Those posts hit differently now, don’t they?

The whole affair dredges up uncomfortable memories of 2009’s expenses scandal — you know, the one with duck houses and moat cleaning that had the public reaching for their pitchforks. While Owatemi’s claim doesn’t quite reach those heights of absurdity, it’s raising serious questions about what constitutes reasonable expenses during these belt-tightening times.

One Labour insider (speaking off the record, naturally) acknowledged that pet rent surcharges are becoming increasingly common in London’s rental market. But that admission only begs the question: Should taxpayers really be footing the bill for MPs’ personal choices? Especially when those same MPs are voting through benefit cuts that affect society’s most vulnerable?

For Owatemi, who regularly waxes lyrical about “the joy our pets bring to our lives,” this expense claim sits at an uncomfortable crossroads. It’s where personal necessity meets public service — and where parliamentary privilege collides head-on with public perception. In today’s economic climate, that’s proving to be one expensive collision indeed.

Hollywood’s superhero machine keeps churning, but James Gunn’s “Superman” might actually be worth the wait. Not that anyone’s counting, but summer 2025 suddenly feels tantalizingly close — especially with the latest buzz floating around DC Studios’ corridors.

Anthony Carrigan dropped some rather intriguing breadcrumbs about the project during a recent chat with THR. The “Barry” scene-stealer (and honestly, who didn’t adore his work there?) carefully sidestepped direct comparisons to Guardians of the Galaxy. Yet there was something telling in his careful choice of words — that same “heart and intelligence” but packaged as “its own thing entirely.” Classic Hollywood speak? Perhaps. But there’s a ring of authenticity there.

Let’s talk about this cast for a moment. David Corenswet stepping into those iconic red boots, Rachel Brosnahan trading in her marvelous Mrs. Maisel credentials for press passes, and Nicholas Hoult preparing to give us his take on chrome-dome villainy. It’s the kind of ensemble that makes casting directors weak at the knees.

Meanwhile, over in streaming land, “Gen V” is cooking up something deliciously wicked for its sophomore run. Eric Kripke’s little update about post-production (editing wrapped, music and effects in progress) might seem like standard fare, but anyone who caught that first season knows there’s nothing standard about this show. The producer’s confidence about outshining season one? Well, that’s either brilliant marketing or genuine excitement — possibly both.

The timing of these projects feels particularly pointed. As “Superman” aims for that July 11, 2025 premiere, it’s positioning itself as more than just another cape-and-tights adventure. Gunn’s been rather pointed about this version representing something deeper — those quaint notions of morality and integrity that seem almost radical in our current climate. Imagine that — Superman as counterprogramming to cynicism.

What’s fascinating about these parallel projects is their divergent approaches to the superhero genre. While “Gen V” gleefully rips apart comic book conventions with a hefty dose of gore and satire, “Superman” appears to be reaching for something more… timeless? It’s like watching two master chefs approach the same ingredients with completely different recipes in mind.

The broader industry context adds another layer of intrigue. With “Citadel” pushing its second season to 2026 and various caped crusader projects stuck in development hell, both “Superman” and “Gen V” feel like calculated bets on where superhero entertainment might be heading. One’s banking on nostalgia with a modern twist, the other on subversion with style.

Only time will tell if these gambles pay off. But in an entertainment landscape often criticized for playing it safe, at least these projects are shooting for something beyond the usual formula. And really, isn’t that what we’ve been asking for all along?

Hold onto your Stetsons, darlings — the Yellowstone universe is about to get deliciously more complicated. CBS just dropped a bombshell that would make even the most seasoned Hollywood power player raise an perfectly-sculpted eyebrow: they’re taking Taylor Sheridan’s neo-Western empire into uncharted territory.

The network’s latest power play? A spin-off centered on Luke Grimes’ Kayce Dutton. But don’t expect just another slice of ranch life — this show’s trading in family feuds for something decidedly more… procedural. (And honestly, who saw that coming?)

Kayce’s stepping into his boots as Montana’s Livestock Commissioner, with Kelsey Asbille and Brecken Merrill tagging along as Monica and Tate. It’s giving serious “CSI: Montana” vibes, but with that signature Sheridan grit we’ve come to expect. The timing couldn’t be more perfect — or more calculated.

Let’s dish about the elephant in the room: Kevin Costner’s dramatic exit from the mothership series. Grimes spilled some tea to Men’s Health that was refreshingly candid: “None of us saw it coming the way it did.” Honey, in this business, when one door slams shut, another one flies open with a much more attractive opportunity behind it.

The whole thing’s rather brilliant, actually. While Beth and Rip are off doing their thing (and don’t we just live for their toxic-but-addictive dynamic?), Kayce’s story will unfold simultaneously. It’s like watching multiple plays on the same stage — if that stage happened to be sprawled across Montana’s gorgeous landscape.

Sure, some might say Sheridan’s empire is starting to look suspiciously like Dick Wolf’s Chicago universe. But darling, when you’re serving premium bourbon instead of basic cable beer, who’s really counting the bottles?

Speaking of premium content — the setup is absolutely divine. Kayce, post-Yellowstone Ranch sale (still not over that twist), settling into East Camp while Thomas Rainwater probably smirks in the distance. The dramatic possibilities are richer than a tech mogul’s ranch shopping budget.

And let’s not forget Yellowstone’s track record with spin-offs. 1883 and 1923 didn’t just succeed — they slayed. That 90% Rotten Tomatoes score for 1923? Chef’s kiss. Though perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised — Sheridan’s got a way of turning dusty ranch drama into pure television gold.

What’s particularly fascinating about this expansion is how it’s evolving beyond the original premise. This isn’t just about land grabs and family loyalty anymore — it’s becoming a tapestry of modern Western life, complete with all its messy, beautiful complications.

The potential for crossovers? Endless. The drama? Guaranteed. The fashion? Well, let’s just say Western wear is having quite the moment in 2025, and this show isn’t hurting the trend.

Because at the end of the day, whether you’re watching a family fight over ranch land or a livestock commissioner chase down cattle rustlers, good drama is good drama. And darling, nobody does drama quite like the Duttons — even when they’re playing by network TV rules.

“The Boys” spinoff “Gen V” is cooking up something special in the kitchen — and showrunner Eric Kripke just couldn’t help but lift the lid a bit on what’s simmering beneath the surface.

Breaking his conspicuous silence on X (formerly Twitter, for those still adjusting), Kripke served up a tantalizing status report that’s got fans buzzing. The episodes? Locked and loaded. Sound mixing? In progress. Visual effects? Getting those final touches that’ll make viewers squirm in all the right ways. And somewhere in the pipeline lurks that ever-elusive first trailer, promising to give us a proper peek at what’s been brewing in the halls of Godolkin University.

Here’s where things get interesting — Kripke’s actually gone and claimed Season 2 surpasses its predecessor. Bold words from someone who brought us exploding genitalia and size-shifting shenanigans that made half the audience watch through their fingers. But given the track record of “The Boys” universe, maybe he’s earned the right to a little swagger.

For those who’ve somehow managed to dodge the blood splatter thus far, “Gen V” takes the twisted DNA of “The Boys” and injects it straight into the beating heart of higher education. Think of it as your typical college drama, except the keg parties might literally bring down the building, and student government elections occasionally end in dismemberment.

Fall 2025 seems to be the target for this sophomore outing — an eternity in streaming years, but perhaps necessary given the ambitious scope. Between now and then, viewers will have plenty of time to theorize about how the show plans to handle its rather explosive season finale. After all, when your main cast is either in custody or embracing their inner fascist, traditional midterms might need some creative restructuring.

The timing’s particularly curious, landing just months before “The Boys” proper wraps up its run in 2026. It’s part of a broader expansion that includes “The Boys: Mexico” and “Vought Rising” — though at this rate, they might need to rebrand as the “Boys Cinematic Universe.” Just don’t tell Disney.

What’s particularly fascinating is how “Gen V” needs to thread the needle between maintaining its academic premise and dealing with the aftermath of Season 1’s chaos. Sure, blowing up the status quo makes for great television, but eventually somebody’s got to sweep up the pieces — presumably while dodging whatever new horrors the writers’ room has cooked up.

For now, fans can take solace in Kripke’s updates and maybe revisit Season 1 — though perhaps skip that Little Cricket scene during dinner. Just remember to keep those expectations in check. After all, in the world of “The Boys,” things rarely go according to plan — and that’s exactly how we like it.

Well, well, well… Netflix just pulled the kind of plot twist that would make even the most seasoned Hollywood veterans do a double-take. The streaming behemoth — you know, the one that practically wrote the rulebook for binge-watching — is suddenly playing it old school with their upcoming “A Different World” sequel.

Talk about a change of heart. After years of throwing traditional TV development practices out the window faster than last season’s designer handbags, Netflix has decided to grant this particular project something almost extinct in the streaming era: an honest-to-goodness pilot order. (And yes, darlings, you read that correctly.)

The timing couldn’t be more fascinating. As we wade through the entertainment industry’s rather tumultuous 2025 landscape — still reeling from last fall’s historic strikes and that shocking Warner-Paramount merger — this move feels particularly pointed. Netflix, which once scoffed at conventional wisdom like a socialite turning down last year’s Birkin, seems to be reconsidering its stance on the tried-and-true pilot process.

Let’s dish about the project itself. The sequel plans to follow the daughter of beloved characters Whitley and Dwayne through the hallowed halls of Hillman College. For those too young to remember (bless your hearts), the original series started as a “Cosby Show” spinoff but blossomed into something far more significant — a cultural touchstone that captured the essence of HBCU life with style and substance.

Behind the scenes, we’re looking at a dream team that would make any development exec weak in the knees. Debbie Allen — yes, that Debbie Allen — is returning to sprinkle her directorial fairy dust as executive producer and potential pilot director. She’s joined by showrunner Felicia Pride and the powerhouse producing duo of Gina Prince-Bythewood and Reggie Bythewood. Honey, that’s what we call stacking the deck.

But here’s the real tea: This pilot order might signal something bigger brewing in the industry’s ever-bubbling cauldron. Netflix, which famously declared it would “never have ads” (before launching that ad-supported tier faster than you can say “market adaptation”), appears to be softening its stance on other traditional TV practices. Perhaps those old-guard network executives weren’t completely off their rockers with their methodical development approach?

Speaking of the networks — remember when pilot season was bigger than fashion week? Now the Big Four are barely ordering enough pilots to fill a compact car. Times change, darlings. Sometimes the wheel doesn’t need reinventing; it just needs a fresh coat of paint.

The original “A Different World” proved that television magic often happens in the most unexpected ways. When Lisa Bonet exited stage left, the show didn’t just survive — it thrived, transforming into something even more spectacular. Now, as streaming platforms cinch their purse strings tighter than ever (those astronomical content budgets of 2023 feel like a fever dream, don’t they?), Netflix’s measured approach might just set a new industry standard.

Only time will tell if this gamble pays off, but one thing’s crystal clear: in Hollywood’s current climate, where even the mightiest streamers are watching their bottom lines, sometimes the old ways might just be the new black.

Hold onto your Master Swords — Nintendo’s taking the scenic route to Hollywood. In a dawn announcement that had West Coast gaming journalists fumbling for their coffee, the entertainment giant revealed plans for a live-action Legend of Zelda film. The catch? We won’t be seeing Link’s pointy ears in theaters until March 26, 2027.

Talk about playing the long game. But perhaps that’s exactly what the franchise needs, especially given Nintendo’s recent box office triumph with The Super Mario Bros. Movie (a cool $1.36 billion globally, thank you very much).

The legendary Shigeru Miyamoto dropped the news through Nintendo’s freshly minted Nintendo Today! app with his characteristic understated flair. “This is Miyamoto,” he wrote, as if anyone else could make such an announcement. He’s been quietly collaborating with producer Avi Arad — the mastermind behind countless Marvel adaptations — for what seems like ages now.

Behind the camera stands Wes Ball, fresh from his work on Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes and The Maze Runner series. The script? That’s in Derek Connolly’s capable hands, the same wordsmith who helped Jurassic World stomp its way to box office glory. Not a bad crew for a story about a boy in a green tunic who’s perpetually tasked with saving the world.

(For those who’ve somehow managed to avoid gaming culture since the Reagan administration, The Legend of Zelda follows the adventures of Link and Princess Zelda as they repeatedly thwart Ganon — a power-hungry villain who clearly missed a few therapy sessions.)

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Video game adaptations have transformed from Hollywood’s awkward stepchild into its golden child. Remember when game movies were considered box office poison? Now look at Sonic the Hedgehog, zipping past $725 million worldwide like it’s Green Hill Zone. Times change, don’t they?

What’s particularly fascinating is Nintendo’s power play here — they’re funding over half the project themselves, with Sony Pictures handling worldwide distribution. It’s the kind of move that screams confidence louder than a Lynel’s roar.

Currently, Zelda’s only sharing its March 2027 release weekend with some untitled Warner Bros. monster movie. Though in Hollywood’s ever-shifting landscape, that’s about as permanent as a Blood Moon in Breath of the Wild.

The extended development timeline speaks volumes about Nintendo’s commitment to getting this right. After all, when you’re adapting a franchise that’s moved 150 million units, rushing things would be about as wise as using a wooden shield against a fire-breathing Dodongo.

So here we are, staring down a three-year wait. But if Nintendo’s recent track record tells us anything, this could be the adaptation that makes the wait worthwhile. Just remember to start saving those rupees now — movie ticket prices in 2027 might make a Great Fairy’s upgrade fees look reasonable.

Universal Pictures’ ambitious “Wicked” adaptation lands somewhere between defying gravity and falling flat. The first installment of this two-part spectacle — hitting theaters just as Broadway continues its post-pandemic renaissance — proves that even the most beloved musicals can stumble in their journey from stage to screen.

Let’s address the elephant (or perhaps the flying monkey) in the room: splitting the story into two features. Director Jon M. Chu claims it’s about preserving the narrative, but there’s something oddly unsatisfying about waiting until November 2025 for the conclusion. Remember how Peter Jackson’s “The Hobbit” trilogy felt stretched thinner than butter over too much bread? Yeah, it’s giving those vibes.

The production values, though? Absolutely spectacular. Paul Tazewell’s costume design deserves every bit of buzz it’s generating. His work transforms Elphaba and Glinda’s wardrobes into visual storytelling masterpieces — we’re talking next-level artistry that’ll have cosplayers scratching their heads for years to come.

But here’s where things get complicated. The film seems caught between two worlds (much like its emerald-skinned protagonist). While Cynthia Erivo delivers a powerhouse performance as Elphaba, something gets lost in the translation from stage to screen. Maybe it’s the absence of that electric live-theater energy, or perhaps it’s the CGI-heavy approach to the animal characters that feels… well, a bit too sanitized.

Speaking of unnecessary additions — what’s with that Dorothy cameo? The movie opens with a glimpse of our ruby-slippered friend skipping down the Yellow Brick Road, a choice that feels about as organic as a plastic Christmas tree. The stage version never needed this kind of narrative hand-holding, and neither does the film.

Then there’s the departure from Gregory Maguire’s darker source material. Sure, the musical already took liberties with the book’s ending, but the film seems determined to sand down any remaining rough edges. Gone is the novel’s stark finality, replaced with something more palatable for mainstream audiences — though whether that’s a creative choice or a studio mandate remains anybody’s guess.

The wait for “Wicked: For Good” (seriously, who approved that subtitle?) stretches ahead like the Yellow Brick Road itself. With streaming services churning out content faster than Glinda can say “popular,” it’s bold of Universal to expect audiences to maintain enthusiasm through a year-long intermission. Then again, “Avatar” fans waited over a decade, so maybe patience isn’t completely dead in Hollywood.

What emerges is neither triumph nor disaster but something far more interesting — a glossy, occasionally brilliant, sometimes frustrating reminder that adaptation is an art form all its own. Whether this first installment justifies the two-part approach remains to be seen. For now, it’s a reminder that even the most carefully crafted magic can’t always capture the spontaneous enchantment of live theater.

Life has a funny way of serving up unexpected collaborations, and 2024’s latest offering feels like it was cooked up in Hollywood’s most whimsical writers’ room. Tom Hanks — yes, that Tom Hanks — has stepped back into the world of Forrest Gump, this time sharing a bench with his son Chet in what might be the year’s most delightfully meta music video.

The younger Hanks, who’s been steadily carving his own path in Nashville’s country music scene as part of Something Out West, didn’t just dip his toe into the nostalgia pool — he dove right in. “You Better Run” (see what they did there?) serves up more Gump references than you can shake a box of chocolates at.

Picture this: Chet, decked out in that instantly recognizable gray suit and blue gingham combo his father wore nearly three decades ago, perched on that famous bench. The attention to detail is almost uncanny, down to the way he clutches that chocolate box like it holds all of life’s answers. But it’s what happens around the two-minute mark that really gets people talking.

That’s when Tom himself shows up, sporting shades and that unmistakable Hanks presence. The father-son bench session might be brief, but it speaks volumes about their relationship — both on and off camera. It’s touching without being saccharine, clever without trying too hard.

Something Out West, formed when Chet met Drew Arthur during their respective sobriety journeys, doesn’t stop at mere bench-sitting homages. Their video is packed with Easter eggs that’ll have Gump aficionados hitting pause repeatedly. There’s a boat christened Jenny (Robin Wright would be proud), recreated running sequences, and yes — random chocolate offerings to strangers. It’s simultaneously a music video and a cinematic love letter.

Rita Wilson — Chet’s mom and Tom’s better half — seems to have given the project her stamp of approval, dropping fire emojis on the video’s Instagram debut like a proud mama bear. Fan reaction has been equally enthusiastic, with comments ranging from the predictable “Run Forrest run!!!” to more thoughtful observations about the creative torch-passing at play.

The timing couldn’t be better for Something Out West, who recently inked a deal with Big Machine Records and dropped their debut single “Leaving Hollywood” earlier this year. This Gump-inspired follow-up suggests they’re savvy enough to leverage their Hollywood connections while blazing their own musical trail.

For Chet — currently appearing in Netflix’s Running Point and with credits in shows like Shameless and Empire — this musical venture adds another chapter to his creative story, following somewhat in the footsteps of his mother, who’s got her own country music credentials.

In an era where nepo baby discourse dominates entertainment headlines, there’s something refreshingly straightforward about this particular father-son collaboration. Rather than running from his father’s legacy, Chet Hanks has chosen to embrace it — with a knowing wink, a catchy tune, and his old man’s blessing. Sometimes life really is like that box of chocolates — you never know what you’re gonna get, but occasionally it turns out pretty sweet.

The music industry’s eternal dance between heritage and innovation is playing out in fascinating ways this season. Take Mumford & Sons, those folk-rock titans who once had everyone reaching for their banjos — they’re back after a seven-year breather with “Rushmere,” and wouldn’t you know it? They’re sticking to their guns.

Named after a cherished spot on London’s Wimbledon Common (where the lads used to hang in their early days), the album feels less like a reinvention and more like a warm embrace of what made them special in the first place. “Most of the songs on this record, you could play on an acoustic guitar around a campfire,” Marcus Mumford recently shared. There’s something refreshingly honest about that admission — no pretense, no desperate grab at relevance.

The band’s upcoming tour schedule includes an October 20 stop at Detroit’s Little Caesars Arena, their first Motor City appearance since 2019. Working alongside Dave Cobb — the producer wizard behind Chris Stapleton and Brandi Carlile’s magic — they’ve crafted what feels like coming home. Take “Malibu,” the album’s opener: it’s pure Mumford, building from whispered confessions to that signature heart-swelling crescendo we’ve come to expect. “You are all I want, you’re all I need!” Yeah, they know exactly who they are.

Meanwhile, in an entirely different corner of the music world, something rather unexpected is brewing. Chet Hanks — yes, Tom’s son — is carving out his own path with Something Out West, his country music collaboration with Drew Arthur. Their latest single “You Better Run” comes with a clever little nugget of marketing genius: a music video that tips its hat to papa Hanks’s “Forrest Gump” role, complete with a touching bench scene featuring both generations.

The younger Hanks, who’s keeping busy with Netflix’s “Running Point,” recently told Esquire something rather intriguing about his creative pursuits: “Ultimately, I consider myself an artist, and acting and music are just two different mediums for being able to express myself.” It’s the kind of statement that might’ve raised eyebrows a decade ago, but in 2024’s shape-shifting entertainment landscape? Makes perfect sense.

Both stories, different as they might be, touch on something deeper about artistic identity. Mumford & Sons, now a trio after Winston Marshall’s 2021 departure, aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel — they’re just making it roll smoother. Sometimes evolution means diving deeper into your strengths rather than throwing everything out the window.

For Chet Hanks and Something Out West (whose partnership, interestingly enough, bloomed from a shared sobriety journey), the path forward means walking a delicate line. They’re acknowledging those famous family ties while steadily building their own thing in the country scene. Their debut project, set for 2025, might just surprise a few skeptics.

Look at these parallel stories long enough, and you’ll start to see the common thread: authenticity doesn’t always wear the same outfit. Sometimes it’s about doubling down on what you do best, like Mumford & Sons heading back to Detroit with their beloved acoustic arsenal. Other times it’s about finding clever ways to acknowledge your roots while pushing into new territory — Something Out West style.

Funny how that works, isn’t it?

The Sex Pistols are about to shake America’s foundations again — and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Nearly 50 years after their explosive debut, these punk rock revolutionaries are dusting off their leather jackets for an unexpected return to North American stages in 2025.

Picture this: London’s gritty 100 Club, its walls still echoing with the ghosts of ’76, served as the backdrop for their tour announcement. Fitting, really. The same underground venue that birthed Britain’s punk movement now bears witness to its resurrection.

The refreshed lineup packs quite a punch. Original members Steve Jones, Paul Cook, and Glen Matlock are joining forces with Frank Carter — yeah, that Frank Carter from Gallows and the Rattlesnakes. It’s a clever marriage of punk’s old guard and new blood, though John Lydon (the artist formerly known as Johnny Rotten) remains conspicuously absent from the equation.

“The world needs this band right now,” Carter declares, his words carrying more weight than a stack of Marshall amps. And honestly? Looking at the state of things heading into 2025, he might be onto something.

The tour’s opening night feels like a deliberate middle finger to history. They’re kicking things off at Dallas’s Longhorn Ballroom — the same joint where cowboys pelted them with, well, everything not nailed down back in ’78. “Pigs’ hooves and bottles and what not,” Jones reminisces, probably suppressing a smirk.

This time around? Less livestock, more legacy. They’re promising full performances of “Never Mind the Bollocks” — their groundbreaking 1977 album that basically rewrote rock’s rulebook.

The elephant in the room remains Lydon. Following their legal dust-up over the “Pistol” TV series, relations haven’t exactly warmed. Jones puts it bluntly: “The last thing he wants to do is have anything to do with us right now.” Matlock’s take carries a hint of weathered resignation: “John’s had all our phone numbers. Can’t say I’ve seen many missed calls.”

Their 2025 victory lap will tear through major cities — Washington, Philadelphia, Brooklyn, Montreal, Toronto — before wrapping up at LA’s Hollywood Palladium on October 16. But don’t call it nostalgia. These aren’t your typical aging rockers trying to recapture past glories.

“We’re a bit older but we play just as well, if not better,” Matlock insists. There’s something refreshing about that lack of pretense.

New music? Jones keeps that door cracked open: “It’s early days. Let’s see what happens.” Classic non-committal musician speak, that.

In an America that’s arguably more divided than when the Pistols first stormed its shores, their return feels weirdly appropriate. As Carter notes, “People want to come and just be entertained, they want to enjoy themselves.” Sometimes the best medicine for troubled times comes wrapped in three chords and a healthy dose of attitude.

Who’d have thought that in 2025, we’d still need the Sex Pistols to remind us what rebellion sounds like?