R.I.P.

McLaren was born in London in 1946 and brought up by his grandmother. He was expelled from several art colleges but not before he had formed the views and strategies that later underpinned the apparent anarchy of punk. “I didn’t create it (punk) alone or out of nothing,” he said last year. “Duchamp chose a urinal. I chose Johnny Rotten.”

Sir Richard Branson, whose Virgin Records signed the Sex Pistols after they were dropped by EMI and then by A & M Records, said: “Knowing Malcolm’s skills of media manipulation and his knowledge that when someone dies their products double in sales, I suspect tonight he’s having the last laugh in South America. Anyway, I hope he is.”

Last night McLaren’s website was blank except for the message: “Malcolm will return shortly . . . ”