By Chalkie Davies

Nancy Spungen died 47 years ago today, I never knew that I had this individual photo of her, I only remember shooting her with Sid in Phil Lynott’s bathroom, that photo ran on the cover of the next week’s NME, they used to come to Anson Road quite often when we lived there, they were not what you would expect either, no showing off, no being totally out of it, they respected Philip a great deal and just came across as this sweet and highly delicate, yet volatile, couple.

Philip enjoyed entertaining the Punks, especially Mick and Joe from the Clash, and the inimitable Cook and Jones, I remember fondly one night when he tried to teach Sid a little bit about Bass playing, but, most of all Sid and Nancy just loved coming over and watching the Elvis Presley Movies that Philip had on this big old Sony Video Recorder, once, we went to bed around 5am and they were still watching Elvis, when we got up the next day we saw that they had tidied up the living room before leaving, not your usual Sid and Nancy story, she was highly intelligent, a little difficult perhaps, but, she looked after Sid and her world revolved around him, who knows what happened that night, personally I don’t think it was murder, manslaughter perhaps, most likely the result of an accident during an argument. It devastated Sid and we all know what happened after that, the great late Lester Bangs put it this way…

A young woman is dead. I don’t care. You probably don’t care. The police don’t care. The papers don’t care. The punks for the most part don’t care. The only people that care are (I suppose) her parents and (I’m almost certain) the boy accused of murdering her.

I cared, and so did Philip…