Joe, Mick, Topper, ‘Scratchy' Barry Myers take phone calls and play various records. Begins with encouragement to a caller from the Direct Action Coalition to take over the Seabrook Nuclear Facility; the March 28th 79 nuclear accident at Three Mile Island would inspire The Clash particularly Joe.

A Londoner working in Boston saw tonight's concert and thought it better than the 2 he had seen in London, Mick disagreed. Questions about Mickey Gallagher who will continue to play on the tour "for as long as we can afford him".

A woman calling herself the ‘Queen of Swords', stoned out of her mind, asked why the limousine did'nt come and pick her up, Mick replies no limos at Clash concerts we came in the transit bus. She then asks for help over something "emitting into the cosmos", Topper says "don't take the brown acid!".

A caller asks them whether they knew that Sam & Dave were "given the finger" by many in the crowd [sections of US Clash audiences always failed to appreciate a number of The Clash chosen black support acts, some even shouting racist abuse]. An angry Joe says they were aware of it and "that's the reason we try to get to play with people like that, because everyone goes around posing in their tight trousers thinking they're it but those guys is where the music comes from."

To emphasis this the music chosen by The Clash is largely from their support acts; Sam & Dave, Screaming Jay Hawkins, Desmond Dekker and The Mighty Diamonds (Scratchy " This is for all the people in red [bouncers] at tonight's concert ‘Whose gonna bodyguard, mr bodyguard!'.

After about 20 minutes when the band talk football and talking callers it goes awry.

A caller bigs up Elvis Costello verses the Clash and the abuse starts to flow. Led by Kosmo Vinyl and Topper, Mick starts it off and chips in before Joe tries to defuse it.

Marcus Gray decribes this show as "foul and obnoxious" on a par with Bill Grundy interview. The source of the swearing is a slurring Topper and starts when one caller asks "how much longer do we have to listen to you assholes!" and another caller who says they are almost as good as Elvis Costello! The show ends with the assembled throng singing along to the Dave Clark Five's ‘Glad All Over' and Village People's ‘Y.M.C.A". Teh interview is way out of hand when Mick shouts out "faggots" and Kosmo singing "Why are you gay?".

The radio interview and the Clash's behavior following the interview (smashing up the interviewers/stations whole record colletion) were probebly the lowest point of the bands whole career given the stand they had taken on excesses of the rock establishment and the politics that the band promoted. Probably one they look back on with great regret and one which presented everything the Clash came to stand against. Joe Strummer and Paul Simonon didn't join the antics.

On their first U.S. tour, the Clash presented themselves as a combination punk band and international combat army. Jones, Strummer, Simenon, and Headon wore soldiers' uniforms and handled their guitars like machine guns. The band played in front of a flags-of-all-nations backdrop with the logo "Unprovoked Retaliation" at the bottom. They chose to spotlight songs dealing with international politics and war-"Guns On The Roof", "Tommy Gun", "English Civil War."

They took the stage with the attitude that they were Concert Review the only rock and roll band in the world that could still make any kind of difference. They saw themselves as the leaders of a new social movement. Their presentation was well received in the U.S.A., but roundly jeered in the band's native England. In the U.K., the Clash started out as a bunch of vicious street fighters. Their newfound global consciousness (as presented onstage and in the album Give 'Em Enough Rope) was regarded by fans and critics as a shallow sellout of their original principles.

What the English were really objecting to was the Clash moving further away from the immediate concerns of their homeland. Matters came to a the head in May when the group released The Cost Of Living Ep.

In the song "Groovy Times (Are Here Again)", Joe Strummer attacked his everyday countrymen for their unwillingness to see the real issues in the British food delivery strikes of last fall. The crowning blow w was the song "Gates Of The West", in which Mick Jones sang about leaving England for something new namely, the U.S.A. The record A. was poorly received by fans and critics. To many, the Clash seem to have repudiated their original boast, "I'm So Bored With The U.S.A."

Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. The Clash have simply decided to make their immediate goals more manageable (if conquering the United States with a reputation as a basic punk band, and little support from their record company, can be called a manageable goal). They have discarded the role of worldwide rock and roll soldiers for the moment. Last Wednesday at the Orpheum, the military uniforms and flags backdrop were absent. The Clash were more like Western outlaws riding into a strange town to wipe out whatever evil they can find. The band (with the exception of the punky Simenon) looked more like cowboys than soldiers.

Punk concert
Clash bash states audiences

The music was different too. "Guns On The Roof" and "Tommy Gun" were dropped from the repertoire, further reducing political interpretations. The pacing was not nearly as furious as expected. The Clash played six new songs, three of which were straight reggae tunes that slowed down the show at appropriate moments. The changes of pace made each individual song stand out-a distinct improvement from shows on the first tour when numbers blended together in a blare of noise.

A few other twists kept the music sounding fresh and different. Mick Gallagher of lan Dury's Blockheads joined in on organ two-thirds of the way through the show, and his playing lent an epic quality ity to the superb "Police and Thieves." Thiev Strummer and Simenon swapped instruments for a song written and sung for Simenon (his first such efforts for the Clash). One was left with the impression that the Clash are sincerely sincerely trying to expand their musical horizons.

What made the show really special was the Clash's commitment to the audience. In the middle of the opener, "City of the Dead," Joe Strummer leaped into the audience and ran up the aisle unguarded playing his guitar. He stayed stayed in in t the crowd at song's end and delivered a diatribe against promoter Don Law. He told Law's enforcers to let the kids in the theatre leave their seats and dance in the aisles. When everyone followed Strummer's suggestion, the law men were helpless. With an enormous throng only inches away from them, the Clash were able to establish an energy exchange between themselves and their fans the likes of which are too rarely seen.

The energy that the Clash project is what makes them such a remarkable group. At the end of the ninety minute show, they were playing as furiously as they The Clash return to the States for concert engagement.

had at the beginning, still running back and forth across the stage and taking leaps off the drum stand. During the storming finale, "Garageland", Strummer leaped up over Topper Headon's drumkit, then ran back down down over it again just to show how easy it all was. The willingness of the Clash to give their all, every performance, makes them a rare band indeed. No other current rock and roll band is as dedicated, spirited, violent, and as driven as is the Clash. Best of all, they seem to be smart enough to survive where so many others before them have fallen. Their current tour proves that they really are the greatest rock and roll band in the world.

Well, the concert was hardly cathartic or transcendental. The first half was curious, but something was missing; once the quartet clicked in the last half, the performance was intriguing if not convincing.

Punk rock may have died earlier this year with Sid Vicious of the defunct Sex Pistols, but the four members of the Clash haven't lost their punk attitude. In England, punk rockers were an angry, politically oriented bunch. For them, punk was a way of life that was reflected in everything from their dress and music to their politica and practice of living on the edge. By contrast, American punks tended to display a sense of humor that prevented them from going off the deep end.

Joe Strummer, front man of the Clash, certainly seemed to cultivate stereotypical punk offensiveness Wednesday, as if to demonstrate in his own self-righteous way how punk (read hip) he could be. After the group opened with "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.," he blasted the Midwest as a waste land. Later, he told the 2,000 or so fans that if they didn't like the Clash's performance, they should "tell us limeys" where to go.

Strummer ran around kicking guitar amplifiers and swinging the microphone stand. His angry antics seemed more anarchic than purposeful. However, once the singer rhythm guitarist turned the lead vocals over to lead guitarist Mick Jones, the Clash finally began to click.

Listeners began to realize that this group was talented and well-conceived, not just a garage band that manically banged out intense, rudimentary rock 'n' roll. However, the Clash was little more than an amateurish garage band was formed in June '76 after Jones had left art school and Strummer had been frustrated singing in a soul band.

The Clash's first album is raw musically, militant politically and generally negative. But, the music mirrored the times. And the British rock press loved it, and so did the fans.

Star Photo by Steve Schluter (Joe Strummer displayed punk rock's offensiveness)

When the Clash's second album, "Give 'Em Enough Rope," was re-leased in mid-'78, it entered the British pop charts at No. 2. It is a bolder, more violent and more political record. It's more worldly in its scope, but perhaps less developed in its vision.

Yet, if the politics are becoming naive, the Clash's music is clearly growing. Melodies, subtlety and even humor were evident Wednesday. There was some reggae, some pop-styled songs and even a cabaret jazz number. Oftentimes, though, it was difficult to decipher the words Strummer was shouting with his coarse voice; Jones was a more lucid singer, but he, too, had a rather heavy accent.

Nevertheless, even if the Clash's heady politics or raucous style are not everyone's cup of tea, few can deny that the quartet is a great dance band. The group had most of the concertgoers on the main floor of the arena dancing for the 70minute performance.

Nicky Headon's booming, almost orchestral drumming was Impressive, and hard-working Paul Simonon complemented the drums. perfectly with his machine-gun bass. Jones was a surprisingly adventurous and accomplished lead guitarist and the unexpectedly advanced sound techniques also provided some nice touches.

Appearing before the Clash was David Johansen, whose early 70s band, the New York Dolls, was the prototypical American punk group and an influence on the Clash.

His performance was wonderful but all too brief. He demonstrated a charming rock sensibility, with Just the right mixture of humor, outrageousness and meaning. He Indicated he has definitely developed into a force to be reckoned with Johansen sang an old Four Tops song and a Dolls number. But most of his material was drawn from his two solo albums. He offered thoughtful ballads and intelligent, full-bore rockers. Especially memorable was "Wreckless. Crazy," a wild tune from his new album, "In Style," one of the most stylish rock albums of 1979.

I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked. Two cops approachedI tried to converse with them, but they didn't speak (maybe they didn't know how). I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked. Two cops approachedI also attempted to speak to the men at the door, but they had been told not to let me in and added insult to injury by calling me a "rock'n'roll" nigger.

I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked. Two cops approachedI was labelled, stamped and shipped out the door. When the goons out front started harassing me, even the Undertones came out to see what was going on. I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked.

Two cops approachedI told them what had happened, and they offered me their backstage passes. But of course the Red Shirts weren't having any: "It doesn't matter what he's got--he's not getting in!"I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked. Two cops approached 33

I found the alley where the equipment trucks were parked. Two cops approached me, and before they could say anything, I told them I was doing a story and I was waiting right there until I got to speak to someone from the Clash (a lie, but it worked). By now, Sam and Dave were playing, so I just lis- tened, hoping to hell someone or something would let me back into the hall in time to see the Clash. I thought I was dreaming this whole nightmare.

Then the Clash pulled up. Before I could explain what had happened, Joe Strummer grabbed me and flung me into the door and started yelling at me. "I don't want to hear your problems! I've got me own. If you're supposed to photograph, get in there and photo- graph. You've got to be more aggressive: if you're not, you'll never make it.

DO YOU THINK WE GOT WHERE WE ARE BY SITTING ON OUR ASSES?! No! You've got to go after what you want!" I could barely speak, but I did manage to ask, "What if you've got 10 goons standing in your way?" "You just do what you're doing now," he said, "outsmart 'em. You know you're smarter than they are. They're just a bunch of idiots. Now follow me!"

We walked up two flights of stairs to their dressing room, me trying to think of what to say to them that wouldn't sound totally stupid. Upstairs, there was plenty of food, beer and tension. The manager was upset: an argument erupted about money and who got what. Naturally, Don Law's name came up. After the manager stormed out of the room saying something like "Keep all the money," I figured this wasn't the time or the place to photo- graph the band. So, I stayed backstage to prevent the goons on the floor from attacking me and was able to photograph the whole concert without any problems.

35

The Clash were unlike any band I've ever met, heard or photographed. Their attitudes and energy really can't be ver- balized by anyone. except themselves. so I leave you with the words of the Clash--tonight their songs made more sense to me than ever be- fore. But one song in particular sums up what I felt about Don Law's bouncers:

HATE AND WAR

The only things there are today/And if I close my eyes they will not go away/ You have to deal with it/It is the currency$$$$$$$$$ Hate...hate...hate The hate of a nation a million miles from home/And war from the junkies (bouncers) who don't like my form/I'm gonna stay in the city even when the house fall down/ I don't dream of a holiday when hate and war come around/ HATE AND WAR/I have the will to survive/

I cheat if I can't win/If someone locked me out I kick my way back in/And if I get aggression

I GIVE IT TO THEM TWO TIMES BACK

36

The The story wasn't over yet, though. After the concert I went looking for my girlfriend and found her outside, frozen cold and bullshit. In the process of looking for me before the Clash came on, she had learned from the fuckin' bouncers that I'd been beaten up and the police had me outside. She asked if she could go out and see if I was OK and would they let her back in with her ticket stub.

They replied sure, sure. but the minute she was out the door, they said she couldn't come back in. When she tried, they used some muscle and forced her out into the street. How low can you get, you lying bastards, you macho scumbags?

Where the fuck do you guys get off? The people who buy tickets are paying your salaries, as well as making Don Law rich. People used to respect Don Law, but now he's become a Little Hitler--and his big bouncers are the SS who have the power but no common courtesy. They use and abuse the public.

After they grab your dough, you're just a seat number--nothing more. 37

We weren't the only people thrown out my girlfriend saw at least a dozen more bruised and bleeding victims flung into the street outside the front door of the Orpheum. And that's not all--after the box office closed, people who didn't have tickets were paying full price to the bouncers, who were pocketing the money.. Isn't this called "skimming off the top," Don? Maybe your boys aren't as honest as you thought, or maybe this is how you keep them happy--at the expense of the bands. But shit. I'm sick of talking about Don Law. Back to the Clash.

9/28/79 - Clark University

Nine days later, we're on our way to Clark University to see the Clash. I couldn't believe we were going to see them twice in 10 days. We were right on time, and we had our tickets. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing, right?

Wrong! We got to the door, only to be met with, "Sorry, the concert hall is filled. They oversold the tickets, and no more people will be ad- mitted due to fire laws. You can get your money back next week."

Everyone started screaming and yelling, "White riot, I wanna riot." Then the police appeared and started moving bodies around. A few bottles got thrown; a few people got arrested. I was going crazy, and so was my girlfriend. Others were mumbling, "I can't believe this: I came all the way from Boston New York East Oshkosh .."

Everyone was bitching, and worse, they were going home just 'cause the police had told them to. By this point, I was boiling. I started yelling at all the wimps: "Go home! Give up, you fucking wimps! Leave! Go on! The people who stay will tell you later how great the Clash really are!"

The whole time, all I could think of was Joe Strummer saying, "If you want something, you've go to go after it. Be aggressive, or you'll never get anywhere." And I sure as shit wasn't going anywhere until I saw the Clash.

Only the people who really wanted to see the concert ended up staying, and most of them were from Boston. I kept telling the people around me. "Don't give up. Mark my words--when Joe finds out, we'll get in."

Two hours later, a bus pulled up, and out stepped Strummer. We screamed, "We got tickets, and they won't let us in! Joe, let us in. The crowd jeered, "We are your real fans--half those college students are sightseers." Joe put up his arms to quiet the mob, yelling, DON'T GET IN, WE DON'T PLAY." "IF YOU EP.

Everyone immediately went nuts.

39

Eventuall ventually we were all let in, with the re- striction that we had to stay in the lobby of the concert hall because of the fire laws. But we were in, and we could see and hear fine, and that was all that mattered. The Clash even dedicated their songs to us--the Cla Clash City Rockers in the lobby.

It It was a great show. Afterwards, we found the Clash in their dressing room; we smoked spliffs, drank beers and talked. This time there was no problem with taking photos, so I shot portraits of Joe and Mick. As the night came to a close, Joe said to me, "You again! Jesus, you are an aggressi bastard, aren't you? Don't you ever give up?"

"No!" I responded. "Not til I get the shot I want. "So he asked, "Well, do you got it yet?"

Just before he entered the tour bus, I said,

"One more, Joe..."

He stopped; I shot: and we said goodbye...

but the image remained.

And so, the Clash returned to the Boston area with a bang. Strummer's anger did not get in the way of the show; in fact, it may have given the band an immediate focus for their relentless music. They ripped through a 24-song set that proved them to be far from mere survivors of the initial punk-rock surge. They are now, simply, a very good and intelligent rock 'n' roll band.

One of the key factors in making the Clash such a compelling group is their ar- tistic growth. Although they haven't out- grown the harsh three-chord attack of their early days (they still play it with a fervor), they're moving on into a wider range of musical expression. Most nota- bly, the Clash is integrating reggae rhythms more naturally and with greater frequency.

For their first encore, they started with a new song, the reggae-tinged "The Police Walked in For Jazz" and moved into the call-to-action pogo rocker, "White Riot" without missing a beat. Both are credible, contemporary.

If you're one of those new fans, you'll still want the original at the import price for the four songs left out. At least two of these "Cheat," for its jet-phase produc tion and Joe Strummer's opening lines, and "Deny," for a perfect example of Mick Jones's double-edged gui- tar/vocal backup hooks are well worth having. You also ought to buy all the singles for their B-sides. (Even though you have both sides of "Clash City Rockers" b/w "Jail Guitar Doors," you may want it anyway for the pic- ture sleeve.) Then there's the "Capital Radio" problem. You can buy the "Cost of Living" EP, which has three songs you already have, but its "official" version of "Capital Radio" degenerates into a reggae parody. Or you can buy the bootleg "Capital Radio" EP on Neat Records, which is a better version but not as well-recorded, and which offers out-take rhythm tracks and interview clips for the remainder of the record.

If you already own the great do-it-yourself Clash album (that's the one you make on tape from all the singles) and have chosen strict chronological order, you have a hint of what's wrong with the American release of The Clash. Your tape builds to and peaks with the 1978 singles (about halfway through) and then goes off in as many directions as there are songs left. As you listen to this homemade compressed documentary, you hear a growing self-reflexive quality that changes street-wise politics into global vision, identity crises into anthems, The Clash

and great rock 'n' roll into great rock 'n' roll history. With the release of Give Em Enough Rope and the singles that followed, the Clash became more artful and less gutsy. Aiming for the mythic, their newer songs were less about their immediate experience and more symbolic and universal. At this level the context be- comes part of the content, which means that the rebel- lion the Clash championed becomes material for songs, where the songs had been material for rebellion. The social realism becomes properly dramatic and turns into great spectacle, like Apocalypse Now.

This larger-than-street-life image, symbolized by the backdrop of flags of the world they used during last winter's tremendously successful mini-tour, has trans- formed the raw urgency and gang-fight individualism of punk politics into style. Which is not to suggest that the Clash have lost any of their integrity or grown too big for their homemade uniforms, but that their struggle, like much of the reggae they emulate, is safely enclosed with- in the world music market. That's what makes this most vital of rock albums somewhat saddening. It has become an artifact or a document something we own, like a great book we once read.

The astonishing thing about the early Clash, what made it possible for even middle-class Americans to feel the rebellion at a gut level, was how the music, amidst largely indecipherable lyrics, actually embodied the political force of the band and seemingly reflected the individual differences (the clash) of its members. Strummer's raw, demanding vocals and rhythm "strumming" burst with a naive/sincere rage and desperation, while Mick Jones's Beatle-ish vocals and lead riffs expressed an aching memory of youthful (and equally naive/sincere) hopes.

Paul Simonon's bass playing unified the two, pushing the guitars and vocals through the roof with his punk militarism or filling in gaps with musicianly bass hooks. Original drummer Tory Crimes was punk enough to keep things frantic, but smart enough to keep up with Simonon's variety.

New drummer Nicky Headon is a superb technician and has helped move the band to a professional sound like Marky's replacing Tommy Ramone. The band has always played and sung as a unit, and group rallying is part of the density that is its power.

When Strummer and Jones yelled out choruses together on social anthems like "White Riot," "Hate & War," "What's My Name," and "I'm So Bored With the USA." they were an immediate, physical manifestation of political conscience God as a cry in the street, to para phrase Joyce. And if Johansen/Thunders, Iggy/Williamson, Bowie/Ronson, Rotten/Vicious, Patti/Lenny or whoever you chose seemed like a new Jag- ger/Richards, these guys were the new Lennon/McCart ney you never thought possible.

Part of the mystique-breaking effect of the new compilation results from having lyrics to read, and you are well advised to honor the printed warning not to look at them while the record is on. I can read "He's in love with rock 'n' roll woaahh He's in love with gettin' stoned woaahh/He's in love with Janie Jones/But he don't like his boring job nooooo...," but I still hear "He's in love with a rock 'n' roll world/He's in love with gettin'-stoned world/He's in love with Janie Jones' world/But he don't like it, but he don't know," and 1 like it better that way. You won't find the aside in "Complete Control" printed, so you're free to make up your own slogan "No more guitar heroes," as a friend did, even if it probably says, "You're my guitar hero.

In reading the lyrics it is surprising that the same anger and rebelliousness that made the music so exhilarating comes from such a desperate place. Since these earlier songs, the Clash have become world-class and the

Continued on page 8