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WINTERLAND is traditionally associated with the Grateful Dead and is Bill Graham's home from home--he was there on Saturday night to watch the Pistols and collect some of the booty that the audience was throwing on stage.

Sid Vicious strutted out, bass around his kneecaps, sneering invitingly at the curious and converted who have already begun throwing objects, either as gifts or as insults which the Pistols spent the evening encouraging. San Francisco already has the strongest punk scene outside of New York and Akron (!) and there are a number of leftovers from the Hookers' Ball to provide local color.

Rotten and the rest lurched on stage, John leaning on the mic like the desperate cripple he imitated all night.

"Welcome to London!" he yells out and is greeted with cries of "F---you, this is SF."

Outside, the band's bus has "Pretty Vacant, England" written across it. A sign of pride, perhaps they've figured that it has to be London to work and knowing it can't be are determined to treat the assembled yanks as a busload of gullible tourists waiting to be gulled.

Rebellion, not revolution, is the name of the game--the Pistols need to carry photos of the Queen wherever they go to confirm their purpose. In San Francisco this appears as a curious and inverted from of patriotism. They lumber into "God Save The Queen," a leftover from the Jubilee. The playing is unco-ordinated but loud and remains so during the hour-long set.

Rotten is superb, hanging from the mic like a clothes-hanger, then leaping into a grotesque imitation of life while singing. Somehow, for all his cynicism, sneers and leathers, he maintains a pasty-faced innocence.

He asks the audience to throw up some cameras, complaining that what has been thrown up so far is "not good enough, is it?" Between numbers he searches the stage for worthwhile mementos which he stuffs into his pockets. At the end of the show he leaves, clutching three umbrellas.

The Pistols have claimed frequently enough to be a peoples' band but I get the impression that they regard people as being as exclusively British species. Here they express nothing but contempt for their audience and seem to demand the same in return. Vicious aims a few kicks at a guy in front of the stage, Jones gobs at those who gob at him while John presides with an amused sneer. "This song is about you, it's called 'Problems,'" announces Vicious belligerently. He takes off his shirt, Jones his blazer. Vicious' back is covered in scratches.

All the numbers sound the same; only the hit single and "EMI" stand out. The Pistols seem to have no desire to get their audience off--rock'n'roll and release have parted company. They close with "Pretty Vacant" and "Anarchy In The USA." I'm surprised that they come back for an encore rather than leaving the audience totally frustrated but they do and it culminates with Rotten on the floor, screaming "No Fun." Now comes the punch line to which the whole show has been aimed: the music stops and Johnny asks the crowd in his most insinuating manner, "Have you ever felt cheated, then?"--then smirks and nods "Goodnight." A perfect strategy to convince the crowd that they've been had.

But if they're here to take everything the publicity-struck Yanks offer them on a plate, what about the claims of "EMI" etc? About 20 minutes after the end of the gig, Vicious strides back on stage wearing a sneer. The girls rush to the front of the stage and he pulls four of them up to his level then pushes them towards the dressing room.

The Pistols' set and playing has absolutely no pacing or range. So, instead they make an art of ripping off their audience while keeping up a running commentary on what they're doing. "F--- you," cries the audience in delight. They've got a nerve alright. Especially Mr Rotten. They took their visas on liberal guilt, they're trying to steal the world.

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