Clash Bites Apple
Van Gosse, Melody Maker, 29 September 1979

FIRST time here, in February, the Clash were merely grand. The energy was awesome but the music was more volume than anything else; in the end it was just oatervating. This time round the band is tighter, fiercer and the dynamics are much more varied. Best of all, six of the 22 songs are new and these, all reggae-based, were more powerful and musically interesting than anything the Clash had yet done, eclipsing the redundancies of the last album.

The first three songs - 'Safe European Home', 'I'm So Bored With the USA', and 'Complete Control' - seemed to be just the old sturm and drang. Then came something new, to do with "psuedo Beatlemania". After, Strummer waved a local tabloid, proclaiming a spurious Fab Four reunion, and followed it with 'White Man', yet another great new one, and 'I Fought The Law'.

The show never faltered from this high-point - the band had its bag of tricks ready. Halfway through the set Simenon switched instruments with Strummer and earnestly sang his own song, a chunky reggae-rocker about some Johnny who gets shot. His voice is ordinary enough, but seeing the usually hard-faced bassist open up was quite a thrill. Mick Jones topped it off by donning an acoustic guitar for 'English Civil War'. Next, on 'Clash City Rockers', Blockhead Mickey Gallagher joined in on organ and stayed for the rest of the evening.

An anguished and violent 'Police And Thieves' peaked the show; at the end Strummer stared wild-eyed at the audience. "You should hear Junior Murvin sing that song," he rasped. "The way he sings it, it's up there." He pointed to the fading dome of the Palladium, a hundred feet above his head.

After that, Strummer seemed possessed, bent on making the crowd understand something, trying to break through every way he could - screaming, whistling, going into the front rows, scaling the amps - and finally, on the encore, he found his moment. Simenon and Headon began an echoed dub vamp, with only a blue light spotlight shining up from be¬hind and below the drum platform. Strummer waited and then came out, grinning, from backstage, holding aloft a torch. He got up behind the drums and raised both arms, silhouetted by the spot and shaking his flame like a maddened Statue of Liberty. The crowd roared at him. He made his way to the mike, gaunt and fevered like some Hamlet among the graves, and quietly began to sing one of the new ones: "A lot of people are gonna get it...." The lights went deep red and the band hit 'Career Opportunities' and 'What's My Name'. Then they were gone.

Some conclusions: the Clash have always suffered and transcended the lack of good drumming. Topper Headon now gets better and better. His playing on the new songs is more rhythmic and driving than ever, and he should forego the boring boom smack he still uses on the older material. Mick Jones, too, has found His own sound to complement the fractured Berry riff and chopping raunch so reminiscent of a certain Elder Statesman. He phases his guitar and heavily reverbs it; the effect was very seductive on the new material, particularly when combined with the organ splashes that randomly appeared throughout the night. This is still the last gang in town, though, and any increase in musicality has only made their anger less diffuse. The Clash aren't prettier now, just better.

© Van Gosse, 1979