CONTENT

Poster

AT CLARK UNIVERSITY WORCESTER,MA.
The Clash At Clark Sept 28 1979!!!!!!
IF YOU MISS THIS ALL HOPE FOR YOUR LOUSY LIFE IS OVER
... now out THE LP The CLASH

WORMTOWN PUNK PRESS, Sept. 79
THE CLASH IN WORMTOWN!

No, you're not dreaming. And you aren't under the influence of any of those drugs that make you see funny things. The Clash are coming to play in Worcester at Clark University on Sept. 28!!!! 1 4 This is the one. The height of all events that ever took place around here. If you miss this one, there is no hope for ya. I mean, The Clash is the hottest rock band of all time!!!!

From the early days of touring with the Sex Pistols to the release of their first album, these guys have been setting the stage for all the others. Every punk band, whether they admit it or not, is Clash inspired. And now they come to this dead city to rock for all of us who've been here all along. The Clash never sold out, never compromised in the least. And now they're taking the USA by storm on their second tour 1. (Even if they are so bored with it.)

But I can't say it enough that the only place to be in the next 10 years will be at the Clash on Sept. 28. Or you could go to Boston and pay $8.50 for Don Law and $5.00 for gas. But in any case, The White Riot finally hits home!!!!!!

L.B.

CONTENT

COVER

WE WANT THE CLASH BACK YA HEAR!

WHERE WAS THE WHITE RIOT??

''AND I Wanna Move THE TOWN TO THE CLASH CITY ROCKERS"

THIS WAS NOT A VERY Nice THING TO DO. LET IT Be KNOWN THAT CLARK SAB IS NOT TO BE BLAMED!!! This definetly is a SWINDLE, YOU ASSHOLES!!!!

Article

The GREAT CLARK ROCK'N' ROLL SWINDLE

IT SEEMS THAT there was a slight problem at the Clash concert Friday night, between two Clark administrators and Strawberries Records. About 200 wet Clash fans were turned away into the cool wet rain, unable to see the band they were waiting to see. "The Clash in Worcester? I don't believe it!" was heard all week by everyone.

It seems that the 2 execs panicked that no one would show up. So they called Strawberries and said sell, sell, SELL! Strawberries sold too many tickets. The concert was originally planned for the 3400-seater gym. But nooooo! Let's move to Atwood and save our ass. Who cares if some don't make it in?

Well, this is one person who was turned away, three others here with me and a whole bunch more who think it sucks. What can ya say though? What can ya do? Well, at least ya can do this. But it just goes to show ya what we already know. Ya get these assholes out there just concerned with money and they don't care one bit about people. They don't care if they knew what it meant. I wish I could meet these execs. Someone give them a copy of THIS.

CONTENT

Wormtown Punk Press, March 80, PRINTED IN USA

FOLLOW THE CLASH

The Clash fought the law and they won!!!! After the last time our favorite rockers of the U.K. played Boston, it was far from a smooth gig.

"We will never work with Don Law again because you can't hire animals to control people."

But this time it was different. The Clash owned the Orpheum. "Remove the first 5 rows and get rid of the gorillas" seemed to be the rule set down by the world's greatest rock band, and the gig went off perfect.

They allowed fans to crowd in front of the stage, but there were no violent incidents. It was a surprisingly well-behaved crowd for a Clash concert.

Oh! We're sooo violent!

American debut album, "The Clash." The lyrics are charged with militant politics, and most are a call to arms against the oppressive forces of society. Much like the early 60s in America with such bands as Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young and Jefferson Airplane ...

Peace Man!

Lead singer/rhythm guitarist Joe Strummer ground the frantic pace to an abrupt halt after noticing what he thought to be an inordinate amount of force being used against fans who were standing in the aisles by promoter Don Law's red-shirted security patrol. Visibly angered, Strummer called upon Law to present himself. When Law did not show, Strummer continued to castigate the security men and exhorted the crowd to stand up and dance as it pleased. Later, after the concert, Strummer tersely said:

"Everybody knows the Clash are #1 but the big stations are chickens."

The Clash Movie?

That's right. A movie about an English kid named Ray who gets involved with The Clash is just about all set to go over in the UK. There will also be a soundtrack album out with the movie 4. Also, a new studio album is about to be released in the UK 5. All this is good news to US Clash fans, but how long will it take to sail it across the waves? We're still waiting for the Swindle.

NEW ALBUMS OUT SOON:

The Jam: Setting Sons 3 6
The Clash: London Calling 1 2 7 8
BRAND NEW 45 by Winnie Loco almost radio. Hearts in the studio now... More

DEAD WAX!!

A bootleg of Sid Vicious live from New York is out and crawling around somewhere. It's mostly all covers done by the real dead boy with the ex-New York Dolls and Mick Jones. If ya find it, let me know. I'd love to hear it.

CONTENT

THE CLASH IN AMERICA----WILL WE EVER GET THE FEELING????

The Clash - Harvard Square Theatre, Cambridge MA - 16 February 1979
by Brian Goslow

Harvard Square Theatre. February 16, 1979. 7:30 P.M. The Rentals. Bo Diddley. THE CLASH.!!!!!! TWO YEARS IN THE WAITING!!! 32 BIG HITS!! BIGGER THAN LIFE!!! WAIT.... That's the problem. We have read about them, we have heard them, and have drawn up this vision in our mind of four supermen playing rock and roll. They can save several radio stations in a single note. Stop racism in a single note.

Actually, The Clash is a group. A very good group. With a lot to say, refusing to budge on an opinion they believe one inch. And those of us who have been Clash fans since the release of "White Riot" (their first single) and the subsequent LP feel really close to the band, as well as the entire English punk scene. But we weren't in London in 1977, we never were threatened by the Teddy Boys, we never had no future. We may have thought we did, wanting to get caught up in the excitement, but we were in fantasyland. When The Clash took the stage at Harvard Square, we expected them to transpose two years of fun, games, and anarchy in front of our eyes. And unfortunately, that's too much to ask of any group, even one that more often than not is tagged as "the world's greatest rock and roll band."

The word of the WBCN firings was spreading through the air before the start of the show, and without a doubt it took away some of the electricity of the night. The Rentals didn't go over too well, but I loved them. They reminded me of England's Siouxsie and the Banshees, they play what they are into-if you like it fine, if not, that's OK too. They're honest about what they do and I had a good time boppin' to them. The same couldn't be said of Bo Diddley. How could you listen to a guy ask you if you remember 1957 when 1979, the year "new wave" spreads onto the airwaves, is in jeopardy with the 'BCN massacre in the air?

"There's a Riot Goin' On" filled the ears and on came the Clash, bursting into "I'm So Bored With the U.S.A.," a moment you knew you would remember more than an actual moment. And guess what?... Nothing changed. The radio still stunk. Disco was still everywhere. The Clash had on the same clothes as us, not the expected blue suits with S' missing. Being Americans, we are used to seeing a band led by a flashy front man. It reminded me of the first time I heard them. I could imagine what London "77" was like with hundreds of bands like this, with all the energy. The word is imagine. IMAGINE.

Joe Strummer wasn't the short-haired weirdo the pictures impose, he's more of a Johnny Rotten snarl-alike. Mick Jones plays guitar like it's the only thing he cares about and his vocals are sung like they stand for something. Paul Simonon at times looks like he's posing, playing the look-at-me game, but then explodes into a burst of energy, as if he builds up just to explode. Topper Headon pounds on the drum so hard the power goes out in the theater at least five times.

The crowd? "Would we have made it in England"? "Is this what it was like"? There was more "check how the next guy was" than getting into the music. No total outpouring of dripping bodies like the Stranglers' gigs last year. But this isn't a negative review. The Clash are more than fabulous-it's just their image is larger than life, the American rock star image is a hoax, it isn't reality, and the Clash exposed that part of our idea of rock culture.

It was far from the best time I ever had at a gig. The Clash are my favorite group, every listen to their record gives me ultimate enjoyment and energy. The group's performance wasn't a disappointment. But they didn't conquer mine, your, or the world's problems by walking on stage. And that was the only thing they could have done for us to avoid disappointment. They could have gone up and played the Hey-I'm-a-rock-star routine and headed toward becoming filthy rich. But they are what they want to be, not one bit less than that. That is how the Clash image was built, by standing up for what they want and refusing to budge an inch. Until we all do the same nothing is going to change in the American music scene. That's what the Clash are about. One of the few bands that won't be pushed around by big record companies. Take their example. Then things may change.

LB says thanks to Brian for the Clash story. I couldn't afford to go so Brian gave us a review.

The Clash's First U.S. Show - Ultimate Classic Rock
40 Years of Revolution Rock: Remembering The Clash's US Debut - The Hard Times
The Clash Live in Boston, Sept 1979 - Rick Ouellette's Reel and Rock
The Clash 1979 Concert Map - Setlist.fm
The Clash Scrapbook - PlanetSlade

The Clash came to the Orpheum Theater which that night seemed more like the Paradise because the Goon Squad--better known as Don Law's Brainless Bouncers--were pushing their weight around. During the Undertones' encore, I left my seat for a closer shot of the band. Before I could even raise my camera, I was grabbed by two animals in red T-shirts, pushed down the aisle and out into the lobby. I tried to converse with them, but they didn't speak (maybe they didn't know how). I 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 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 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 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 listened, 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 photograph. 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 photograph 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.

The Clash were unlike any band I've ever met, heard or photographed. Their attitudes and energy really can't be verbalized by anyone except themselves, so I leave you with the words of the Clash--tonight their songs made more sense to me than ever before. 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

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.

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.

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 admitted 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 got 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, "IF YOU DON'T GET IN, WE DON'T PLAY." Everyone immediately went nuts.

Eventually we were all let in, with the restriction 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 Clash City Rockers in the lobby.

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 aggressive 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.

The year was 1979, and punk rock had come into its own. The Clash was already a big deal in their native U.K., but still a band to watch in the U.S. That would all change with the release of “London Calling.”  

“Back then, the whole punk thing was like this dangerous thing to the establishment. A year earlier, you have reporters following the (Sex) Pistols around the world. ‘Oh my God, they left a beer can on the TV at the hotel,’ like it was this dangerous thing. And that was part of the allure too,” Doug Geer said, “It was just weird that this group from England ends up playing in your town at the pinnacle of them as a live act. And, the fact that they came to Worcester meant something. It made us feel like we were a part of it.”

Sept. 28 marks the 45th anniversary of when The Clash played Clark University’s Atwood Hall, roughly three months before the release of "London Calling." Those who were inside (and those who weren’t allowed in even though they had tickets) are still talking about it.

During their short stay in Central Massachusetts, The Clash stayed at the Holiday Inn on Route 12 in West Boylston. Across the street was the West Boylston Drive-In. Inside the “London Calling” liner notes is a black-and-white picture of Paul Simonon, The Clash’s bassist, with the drive-in sign clearly behind him.

Simonon is also seen smashing his instrument in a shot taken a week before the Clark University gig in New York that was used for the cover of the “London Calling” album. Both pictures were taken by famed rock photographer Pennie Smith.

Members of The Clash were also spotted at the Honey Farms at 194 Park Ave. in Worcester, buying snacks and sundries.

'Like a burst of nuclear energy'

WCUW 91.3 FM disc jockey Brian Goslow, Invited to show by Ivan R. Lipton, manager of Paperback Booksmith at the Worcester Center Galleria and future president of Strawberries Inc., was allowed access to The Clash at Clark before the show.

Goslow, who first played The Clash on WCUW in the spring of ’77, remembers how, during the soundcheck, The Clash came up with an impromptu reggae tune about the Howard Johnson’s they were staying at in West Boylston.

“All I remember is ‘We don’t like no Howard Johnson’s,’” Goslow said.

Goslow said he also had a meaningful conversation about music with Barry "Scratchy" Myers, who was The Clash’s tour DJ, and Nicky “Topper” Headon, the band’s drummer, both of whom cut radio IDs for WCUW.

Geer was a 13-year-old Chandler Junior High School student who just started up his first band in the summer of ’79 when he saw The Clash at Clark.

“It was unbelievable because we saw The Clash the week before in Boston. My only previous concert experience was KISS. And then I go to see these guys at the Orpheum,” Geer recalled. “The Clash came out like a burst of nuclear energy. It was unbelievable. So when they came to Clark, the buzz was happening how great this band was.”

Because he was in the local garage band The Performers that was part of the city’s thriving punk rock scene, Geer got to know some of the musicians in other bands, which worked to his advantage the night The Clash played Clark.

“One of the other bands was in line right in the front. We got there a little bit later than we probably should have. But the band said, Stay with us,” Geer recalled. “It was like a Wormtown conglomerate, because the Wormtown punk scene was us (The Performers), the Commandos and Blue Moon Band. Back then, you knew everybody that liked The Clash. You knew everybody who liked the Ramones. There weren’t many people involved in that scene at that time, 1979. There was like eight of us in town, when we first started out.”

When the doors swung open to Atwood Hall, Geer and his older brothers were able to beeline right down to the front.

“We’re, maybe, five rows back from the front and the place was tiny,” Geer recalled. “We’re like, Oh my God, this is the best thing ever.”

'They were rock 'n' roll'

Clark University student Eric Lefcowitz wrote in the Oct. 5, 1979, issue of the student-run newspaper The Scarlet how The Clash raced through a frantically paced set that covered most of their old material along with a few new songs from their upcoming album “Take the Fifth.”  By the way, the Clash never released an album with that title. They scrapped it in favor of “London Calling.”The New York-based power pop group The Necessaries opened the evening with a 20-minute set. Although the band included renowned avant-garde cellist Arthur Russell and Modern Lovers bassist Ernie Brooks, nothing was reported in The Scarlet about The Necessaries’ brief set other than that it happened.

“The Necessaries had a song called ‘Give Me the Keys.’” Geer recalled. “‘Give me the keys/I’II even say please/And I will trust you with my sister.’ It’s kind of like The Vapors’ ‘Turning Japanese’-kind of song.”

Next came The Gang War, featuring ex-New York Dolls guitarist Johnny Thunders and MC5’s guitarist Wayne Kramer.

In 1975, Kramer was arrested for selling illegal powders to a government agent and was jailed for four years. Many of the Wormtown punkers were surprised the legendary MC5 guitarist was there, because they didn’t know he'd gotten out of jail.

“You could tell that they had been around the block. They were rough. They were rock 'n' roll. You knew you were seeing the real deal,” Geer said of The Gang War. “And I remember Wayne Kramer because he was mentioned in the Clash song ‘Jail Guitar Doors.’ So he was on my radar. I knew it was kind of a big deal that he was there because he was a big deal. And it’s a bigger deal now.”

The Gang War “staggered onstage” to the sound of Nazi soldiers goose-stepping, according to Lefcowitz.

“The Gang War assaulted the ears and insulted the senses of the audience during their short 20-minute set,” Lefcowitz said. “Many had been half-deafened by the overwhelming volume that shook the hall’s renovated walls.”

According to Lefcowitz, the highlight of the set came when Kramer took the microphone to sing Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come,” but that wasn’t enough to save the set.

Roughly two and half years later, Thunders would earn a place in Wormtown rock history for being booked to play the second night at Xit 13 on March 12, 1982. Although the rocker showed up, Thunders reportedly was in no condition to play and the show was scrapped. Thanks to The Scarlet, we have a photo of Thunders in Worcester.

By the time the Gang War “staggered offstage,” the audience, which consisted of an even mix of bewildered students and punk rock-loving townies, was becoming restless, Lefcowitz said.

'We have to open these doors'

Outside a “White Riot” was brewing. Unable to get in, many drenched and defiant Clash fans were reportedly outside Atwood Hall in the rain for hours, refusing to leave.

“Shortly after The Clash came out, they stopped the show. Joe (Strummer) was like, ‘We have to open these doors in the back and let everybody in,’” Geer recalled. “The Clash completely stopped the show for the fans. They let people into the foyer and open the door for people to hear it, probably avoiding a riot.”

The Clash concert was originally scheduled to take place in Clark’s Student Activities Center, which holds 3,000, but this plan was dropped two days before the concert, due to poor ticket sales within the Clark community, and the concert was moved to Atwood Hall, with a capacity of 650. Big mistake.

The lack of collegiate student support for The Clash forced the Student Activity Board to subsequently allow Strawberries Records and Paperback Booksmith to sell tickets.

Concert flyers started popping up all over, advertising “Live at Clark University, The Clash. Friday night, September 28 at the Student Activities Center. Tickets $7.50 available at Strawberries and at the door.”

The switch of venue caused the number of people allowed in to see the concert to drop by two-thirds and poor lines of communication, and errors caused almost 250 extra seats to be sold.

When The Clash found out there were more than 200 people denied entrance in their concert at Clark University, the band refused to go onstage unless those 200-plus people were let in for free and permitted to watch the show from the lobby.

Quoted a few weeks after by The Scarlet, Campus Police Chief Richard Lacaire called the non-Clark students who came to the show with tickets in hand “scum.”

“The Clash were on their way out the door,” Michael Clebnick, head of security for SAB, said, in The Scarlet. “And something had to be done right away. I was getting no help from the Campus Police, whose comments on what to do consisted of ‘You’ll never see Atwood Hall again come Monday.’”

“They (Campus police) were sure they had a riot situation on their hands if The Clash didn’t go on,” Pam Marcello, one of the coheads of the SAB, said.

“They were really worried but they wouldn’t make up their minds about what to do,” Clebnick added.

According to The Scarlet, Campus Police Lt. Louie Luivisi first said that everyone could go in en masse. Then he abruptly changed his mind and said that no one was going in.

Clebnick and Brian Levine, also SAB head of security, pleaded with the lieutenant to change his mind.

“The band was almost gone,” Clebnick said. “They would have been gone if Brian hadn’t spoken to them.”

Campus Police Chief Richard Lacaire called the non-Clark students who came to the show with tickets in hand “scum.”

'The Great Clark Rock 'n' Roll Swindle'

In 1979, WICN and WCUW disc jockey Leonard B. Saarinen, aka L.B. Worm, was a key player in the city’s thriving punk scene and the man who coined the moniker Wormtown.

On Sept. 28, 1979, Worm was waiting in line outside Atwood Hall to see The Clash. A light rain started falling and some poor kid was looking for a ticket.

Worm said he had an extra ticket in his car and went back to get it. That’s the kind of guy he is.

Unfortunately, when he got back to Atwood Hall, Worm was told he couldn’t enter due to the show being oversold.

In his photocopied fanzine Wormtown Punk Punk Press that was printed and came out the same night of The Clash at Clark in a direct reaction to the way the show was handled, Worm blasted “Two Clarky Administrators” and “Strawbabys Records” (aka Strawberries Records at 20 Front St.) for panicking that nobody would show up while selling too many tickets to compensate.

“There was a slight problem with the Clash Concert,” Worm shrugged in his article, which had the title “The Great Clark Rock 'n' Roll Swindle.”

Worm stressed that Clark's SAB was not to blame.

“It just goes to show ya,” Worm continued in his fanzine. “Ya got these (expletives) out there just concerned with money and they don’t care none about people. They don’t care.”

Worm said he did get his money back for five tickets he bought. And the girl at the ticket window, who felt bad for Worm, removed the black Clash button she was wearing on her lapel and handed it to Worm as a show of sympathy.

But the night was still young, and Worm had work to do.

'I challenged everything the guy said'

Mark H. Lovejoy was also waited outside with the huge crowd in front of Atwood Hall.

“I was not permitted to enter despite the fact that we all had tickets,” Lovejoy said. “Apparently, they oversold the event and it was overcrowded. The fire marshal supposedly told them, No more people. The organizers came out and stood on the steps and tried to explain the situation to a bunch of very, very pissed-off people. I challenged everything the guy said and he was a total idiot.”

Lovejoy said he started getting the people outside the venue hall riled up but once the organizers told them that their tickets would be refunded, they retreated, grumbling with money in hand.

“I remember laughing at all these Worcester kids dressed like punks and being total wusses,” Lovejoy recalled. “Oh, well, I saw them (The Clash) the following year in Connecticut and they were horrible. Met Joe (Strummer) though when he was eating in Ashley’s (at the old Worcester Marriott) during his Mohawk phase. So nice and such a gentleman. He was the heart of that band."

Clark student James Phillips was also one of those 200-plus waiting to get in.

“I didn’t even care if I got in to hear their three-chord, ultrasonic political statements,” Phillips was quoted as saying in The Scarlet. “In fact, I almost sold my ticket with the rest of the scalpers who were receiving up to $15 for a $4 (Clark student priced) ticket.”

Well, it turned out some did care. The Clash.

'Everything rock ’n ’roll is supposed to be'

“The Clash cared and that’s what makes them what they are. They cared about the 200 wet fans out there, who had come from who knows where to see them, standing out in the rain,” Phillips said. “I praise The Clash, not for their music, because I only heard a bit of that for free and it still wasn’t worth it, but for that they cared.”

In The Scarlet, Lefcowitz chastised the college for not having the concert in the Student Activities Center, saying the ticket and sound problems would have been easily alleviated if it was held there.

When the Clash finally did hit the stage, they immediately made their stage presence know.

“From the first power chord, lead guitarist Mick Jones was hurling himself around the stage with reckless abandon,” Lefcowitz wrote. “Meanwhile Joe Strummer, lead vocals, strummed his guitar with manic aggression as the noise level resembled a jet taking off.”

“The Clash show was everything rock ’n ’roll is supposed to be,” Geer said. “It was super loud (but, he added, not louder than the Nervous Eaters and The Atlantics at E.M. Loew’s). You’re riding on adrenaline for their whole set. You leave sweaty. You’re hurting. There was something magical about that.”Going into Atwood Hall with two Clash shows already under his belt, Clark University student and Scarlet entertainment editor Jeffrey Siegel sat in the second row with cotton stuffed in his ears.

“For the relatively short time they were onstage, the Clash impressed me as only a handful of others have for their energy, musical power, and the importance of their music,” Siegel said. “They may have been too loud, but then, it was music that was meant to be played too loud.”

“When they opened with ‘Safe European Home’ (from 1978’s ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope’) that was absolutely amazing to be hearing that live here (in Worcester),” Goslow said.

“The group’s second selection “I’m So Bored With the U.S.A.” was the most precisely executed song of the night,” Lefcowitz said. “The crowd, which was on and off their feet from the start, punched their fists in the air to the beat of the chorus.”

During “Jail Guitar Doors,” Strummer mentioned Worcester, which seemed only fitting because the legendary MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer is mentioned in the song and was in one of the evening’s opening acts, Geer said.

Geer also remembers The Clash playing in front of a backdrop depicting Three Mile Island, which experienced a partial meltdown March 28, 1978, just six months before.

“I was thinking to myself, how are they more in tune to the (expletive) that’s going on in the world and the (expletive) that’s matters to people in America than America bands.”  Geer said. “They had the hand-painted background. They had the photographer on tour with them. They had a cartoonist on tour with them. And all their clothes were made by this woman, Alex Mishon, who went to school with Mick Jones. They didn’t look like anybody else. They had covered all the bases, whether it was visually or soundwise.”

'The music rumbled and snarled'

After a few songs Strummer asked the crowd about the sound. Apparently not too many people heard him and the intense volume did not relent.

“This was unfortunately because the sound from the guitars and Paul Simonon’s bass rendered the vocals indecipherable,” Lefcowitz said.  “For the people who are unfamiliar with The Clash’s material, Strummer’s snarls and shouts were incoherent and subsequently all meaning was lost.”

During the set, The Clash played four songs from “London Calling,” including “Clampdown,” “The Guns of Brixton,” “Koka Kola” and the title track.

The Clash also played “Capital Radio,” “(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais,” and “English Civil War.”

By the time the group launched into the Sonny Curtis-penned/Bobby Fuller Four-associated “I Fought the Law” it was obvious that Strummer was fighting the sound system and the sound system won.

At this point, Micky Gallagher from Ian Drury and the Blockheads joined The Clash onstage to play the organ.

Although it was hard to decipher the lyrics to the songs, Siegel had nothing but praise for The Clash and what they played that night at Clark.

“The music rumbled and snarled from the amps as the band bashed out their selections in rapid fire succession, the musicians in perpetual action onstage,” Siegel wrote.

Just as the band was building momentum during “Clash City Rockers,” Strummer suddenly flung his microphone stand in the direction of drummer Nicky “Topper” Headon and slammed his guitar down before storming offstage.

Jones later explained that Strummer “had to take a piss” as the group returned to finish the song, according to The Scarlet.

“Strummer and company might as well have stayed off,” Lefcowitz said. “For the last six or seven songs were fairly repetitive and horribly mixed.”

Saying that poor sound mix left the crowd feeling like they were stuck inside a “ringing telephone,” Lefcowitz said that The Clash, despite how great they were and legendary they would become, never from its groove that night at Clark.

'The band that can save rock 'n’ roll from itself'

Leaving the Clark campus after not being allowed in Atwood Hall, Worm and his friends bought some beer, went down to the print shop and put out a special edition of Wormtown Punk Punk Press.

After drinking more beer, Worm and his entourage went back to Clark and put the freshly printed fanzine underneath the windshield wiper of every parked car near Atwood Hall.

As they approached the venue, Worm saw the doors were wide open and ventured in to see and saw the last four songs The Clash played.

Worm found out that The Clash refused to go onstage until the “powers that be” let in all the people who were shut out.

“All I had to do was stand in the rain for two hours and I would have been all set,” Worm said recently.

And, if Worm waited, we would have missed out on this wonderful Wormtown Punk Punk Press fanzine issue freezing the moment in time.

“There are a lot of musicians on the scene who play better than Mick Jones, sing better than Joe Strummer, and keep better rhythm than Topper Headon and Paul Simonon,” Siegel said. “But no one plays music with more urgency and with more drive today. No one.”

In his review, Siegel also attacked rock radio of the day.

“There is a lot of music on the radio and on vinyl these days. Some of it is good. More of it is bad. But most of it is castrated rock ‘n’ roll. The balls have been left out, the guts that makes music important, not just diversionary,” Siegel said. “What these four young men played Friday night was music from the soul, music that is thrust out to us defiantly — take it or leave it.”

Many among the crowd were disappointed with the short set after fighting for seats, waiting through two warmup bands and putting up with various other minor hassles, Lefcowitz said.

Calling it a “a rather choppy and sloppy performance” by The Clash, Lefcowitz said there is no denying that the group has talent. But, judging from the crowd’s reaction, The Clash did not make many new Clark fans.

“The Clash’s highly energetic and extra-ordinarily loud concert last Friday at the sold-out Atwood Hall left a divided audience,” Lefcowitz said. “On one hand, there were The Clash fanatics, already familiar with the band’s material, who howled and pogoed along with their heroes. Then there were those who saw and heard the group for the first time — and, in most cases, the last time.”

Siegel also acknowledged that The Clash isn’t for everyone and most of the crowd at Clark that night would dismiss the band immediately after they left Atwood Hall.

“Many who saw the Clash Friday will elect to leave it, but for that one moment they had been exposed to something they may never hear again — music that matters, music that means something,” Siegel said. “I have seen the band that can save rock 'n’ roll from itself — and from the undiscerning fan — and that band is the Clash.”

'This is how this is supposed to be'

Geer said the two Clash shows played a week apart at Clark University and at the Orpheum in Boston stand as the two best shows he has ever seen in his life as well as the most meaningful.

“I can’t say enough about The Clash live in that era. I haven’t seen a lot of things that have even come close. They were just energy, just an explosion. And the music was phenomenal,” Geer said. “For me anyways, being my third-ever concert and just seeing them the week before (at the Orpheum), which changed my life, and then seeing them in a smaller place you're kind of setting the bar like, Oh my God, this is how this is supposed to be. It was kind of nuts how lucky I was to be able to see them there at Clark.”

In the wake of The Clash, Lacaire tried to put the clampdown on future concerts on the Clark campus.

Responding to what he called the outside “scum” that overtook Atwood Hall to see The Clash, Lacaire endorsed a policy in which tickets would be only sold to consortium students with a valid college identification card, in an effort to keep the “undesirables” out and make concerts run smoother.

“With an outside concert you bring in an element you don’t want in a college environment,” Lacaire said.

According to the Oct. 18, 1979, edition of The Scarlet,” if the new policy were to go into effect, it would conceivably end any possible large scale concerts in the future, and limit any use of the Student Activities Center for concerts, as the SAC requires large ticket sales to meet cost.

Marcello said she feels that campus police were overreacting to what she termed as “an unfortunate series of events” that led to problems at The Clash concert.

“Perhaps what we need is just better communication, not rash actions,” she said.

The Clash, without Mick Jones and Topper Headon, would go on to play April 13, 1984, at the former Centrum, while the Mick Jones-fronted Big Audio Dynamite opened for The Pretenders on Dec. 11, 1986, also at the Centrum, and Joe Strummer and his band The Mescaleros played Oct. 12, 2001 at The Palladium.

Roughly 14 months after playing The Palladium on Dec. 22, 2002, Strummer, 50, died from a heart attack.