Clash: Tour and Single

CLASH: TOUR AND SINGLE

THE CLASH are setting up a number of British shows before Christmas, although there is no confirmation of the-dates.

As a forerunner to the concerts and the release of the "London Calling" dou- ble album on December 14, the Clash release a new single, "London Calling" on December 7.

Page 2 -- December 8, 1979

SOUNDS, CLASH INTER-CITY ROCKERS

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THE CLASH roar into the Eighties with a major British tour under the banner of The 16 Tons Tour' It starts early in January and runs through to mid February with several more dates still to be confirmed. The band had hoped to begin the tour before Christmas but were unable to find suitable venues

The datesheet so far reads:

Aylesbury Friars (January 5)
Brighton Top (January 8-9)
Bath Pavilion (January 11)
Taunton Odeon (January 12)
Leicester De Montfort Hall (January 16)
Dundee Caird Hall (January 18)
Edinburgh Odeon (January 20-21)
Blackburn King George's Hall (January 25)
Chester Deeside Leisure Centre (January 26)
Sheffield Top Rank (January 27)
Bridlington Royal Spa (January 30)
Bradford St. George's Hall (January 31)
Stoke Hanley Victoria Hall (February 1)
Manchester Apollo (February 3-4)
Birmingham Top Rank (February 5-6)
Poole Wessex Hall (February 10)
Cardiff Sophia Gardens (February 11)
Southampton Top Rank (February 13)
London Electric Ballroom (February 15-16)
Lewisham Odeon (February 18)

Other dates being ranged at Blackpool, Bristol, Coventry, Glasgow, Leeds, Portsmouth, Purley and Newcastle. They should be announced next week.

Tickets will be priced at £3 for all unseated and £3, £2.50 and £2 for seated venues. They will go on sale shortly and you should check with the individual concerned about opening dates.

Support for the tour will be Jamaica's Toots And The Maytals who haven't played here since the summer of 1976. There will also be various young British bands as the opening act which will be announced later.

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8th December, 1979 New Musical Express - Page 3

NME - Major Tour for New Year

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The CLASH

Major tour for a new decade

by Derek Johnson

THE CLASH launch into the new decade in style, by way of a major British tour starting early next month and taking in over 30 dates. They'll be supported throughout by top Jamaican act Toots & The Maytals, and there will also be an additional opening act. The first 25 dates were confirmed this week by promoters Straight Music, and they are:

Aylesbury Friars (January 5)
Brighton Top Rank (January 8 and 9)
Bath Pavilion (January 11)
Taunton Odeon (January 12)
Leicester De Montfort Hall (January 16)
Dundee Caird Hall (January 18)
Edinburgh Odeon (January 20 and 21)
Blackburn King George's Hall (January 25)
Chester Deeside Leisure Centre (January 26)
Sheffield Top Rank (January 27)
Bridlington Spa Royal Hall (January 30)
Bradford St. George's Hall (January 31)
Hanley Victoria Hall (February 1)
Manchester Apollo (February 3 and 4)
Birmingham Top Rank (February 5 and 6)
Poole Wessex Hall (February 10)
Cardiff Sophia Gardens (February 11)
Southampton Top Rank (February 13)
London Camden Electric Ballroom (February 15 and 16)
London Lewisham Odeon (February 18)

Remainder of the dates are currently being finalised, and will be announced next week- they're expected to include gigs in Blackpool. Bristol, Coventry, Glasgow, Leeds, Portsmouth, Purley and Newcastle. Admission prices will be £3,

€2.50 and £2 at all seated venues, and £3 only at unseated venues-tickets will be on sale very shortly, and readers are advised to contact individual box-offices for further details.

The Clash say they had hoped to play some dates before Christmas, but couldn't find suitable venues at such short notice but they hope their supporters will be recompensed by this lengthy New Year schedule, which goes out under the banner of The 16 Tons Tour'. The opening acts are likely to be drawn from local bands in the areas being visited by the tour.

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FINAL CLASH

THE CLASH SORT IT OUT (AT LAST)

Back to the top

Joe Ely advert

Back to the top

22 February 1980

Whats on Magazine London - Tour overview

Preserving Punks Clash register

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What's On IN LONDON, February 22, 1980 - 42

Persevering punks

Clash register

by Mike Mills

Paul Simonon (left) and Topper Headon (right): bass player and drummer

Financial Struggles Behind the Tour

THE darkness is suddenly filled with the sound of Tennessee Ernie Ford singing '16 Tons'; the refrain: "You load 16 tons, and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt." The Clash, whose present success in the record charts might seem to indicate a certain comfortable affluence, have called their latest two-month tour of Britain, which ends at Bristol's Colston Hall on February 25, the '16 Tons Tour' because, at the end of it, despite having sold out virtually every concert (there will have been more than 30), they'll be lucky if they've broken even on the operation. 

When Tennessee Ernie Ford is cut short in mid-croon and The Clash crash into 'Clash City Rockers', it becomes clear why, despite the financial shortcomings, it has all been worth it. On their present form they are off ahead of most of the field as the most dynamic and exciting rock band at work in the land. Their instrumental abilities, the strength of the singing, the excellent sound mix and the obvious vigour with which they are performing—smiles, even—all are light years ahead of earlier outings in which the intentions outstripped the result by what was too often a large margin.

Formation and Early Days

It will be four years in May since the band first formed. Guitarist Mick Jones and bassist Paul Simonon took up with relatively experienced singer Joe Strummer, then front man for a band called the 101'ers. All three had an art school background, but it took little to persuade them that the group was more important.

With Terry Chimes (nicknamed Tory Crimes) as the first drummer, they started playing (bottom of the bill on the Anarchy Tour in December 1976), signed to CBS with manager Bernie Rhodes, and recorded their first LP, The Clash (CBS 82000), with the sound man as producer. Chimes left when he'd seen enough of the violence which their appearances caused, and they recruited Nicky 'Topper' Headon, a friend who also impressed them with his powerful technique (he still does).

Early Releases and Challenges

The first LP, poor though the sound is, contains several songs now accepted as classics of the original punk movement: 'Janie Jones', 'White Riot', 'London's Burning', 'Career Opportunities', and their version of the Junior Murvin-Lee Perry song 'Police and Thieves'. This was acknowledged as a breakthrough in the "Can white boys sing reggae without making fools of themselves?" debate. Despite the approval of Perry, however, only their fondest friends could have described the band as competent live musicians at this time, Jones being the only one to give any indication of what was to come.

Although the record sold well, the singles it spawned and other 45 rpm releases met a wall of radio silence. The obvious unwillingness of the networks to play the records stemmed at least in part from the running battle which the band appeared to be having with the police and licensing authorities everywhere.

Controversies and Touring Troubles

Every time they toured, with such support bands as The Buzzcocks, Slits, Subway Sect, Richard Hell, Suicide, and Special A.K.A., they left a trail of damaged seats at concert halls, hasty cancellations when local authorities banned them, confrontations with the law over alleged drug offences, vandalism, petty theft and worse. In Sweden, they faced bomb threats and physical assaults from the Raggeri, right-wing Hell's Angels-type gangs.

The most extraordinary incident was when two of them were arrested by armed police after some racing pigeons had been shot from a rooftop in Camden Town (check out 'Guns on the Roof' on the second LP). Undeterred, they went off on tour again: 'The Clash Out on Parole Tour', having recorded the new LP with US producer Sandy Pearlman.

Recording Evolution and Growing Success

Give 'Em Enough Rope (CBS 82431) certainly sounded better than the first, and again it had some essential tracks: 'Stay Free', 'Tommy Gun', 'Last Gang in Town', and 'Julie's Been Working for the Drug Squad'. It went into the charts at No. 2, and 'Tommy Gun' was their first real hit single. This was the moment at which they parted company, none too amicably, with manager Bernie Rhodes. With claim and counter-accusation flying everywhere, they set off to the US, where the new LP had been listed among 1978's top ten Pop LPs by Time, and took Bo Diddley along as support. The tour was a success.

On their return, they released the Cost of Living EP on election day, and it made the charts easily, though more for the re-make of 'I Fought the Law', which got airplay, than for the other tracks, including a previously abortive 'Capital Radio'. Their only live UK appearance was at a benefit for those involved in legal action after the Southall demonstration in which Blair Peach was killed.

The Making of London Calling

For their third LP, they engaged Guy Stevens, producer of Mott the Hoople and much else, but not exactly an obvious choice. They were fortunate in Stevens, who gave them the recorded sound they had previously lacked, and was able somehow to bring out their most accessible, tuneful, and powerful material to date. No small credit must go to keyboard player Mickey Gallagher (most well known as one of Ian Dury's Blockheads) and the 'Irish Horns', who add brass to many songs. Trouble loomed over the length of the LP (it emerged as a double, with 18 tracks), but eventually and admirably, it was issued at the price of a single LP.

After they had almost finished London Calling (CBS CLASH 3), they went back to the US with Gallagher and toured with such support acts as Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Sam and Dave, Bo Diddley, Joe Ely (who has come over for the London dates this week), and The Cramps. The LP and its title-track single, 'London Calling', were immediately successful, getting played on the radio and awakening an entirely new audience to the power and true abilities of the band.

Facing 'Sell-Out' Claims and Audience Growth

There were, as a result, accusations of 'selling out' by those who preferred the band to remain the private preserve of a faithful few, but the group members are unrepentant. They know they've produced something which, by virtue of its greater professionalism and sheer entertainment value, will reach a wider audience and, they hope, make them think. The imagination, fire, and integrity of the early days have not gone. If you think they've lost the cutting edge of the first songs, you'd be advised to go back and listen to them again. They're not at all the paeans of negativism which many of us took them for at the time.

Lyrical Intent and Political Perspective

Jones and Strummer, the main writers, are concerned not with passing out slogans for the disenchanted to parrot, but with encouraging the processes of critical thought: complacency and blind conformity are the targets. Certainly, they dislike the political set-up and have misgivings about much of the establishment in this country, but only an idiot could describe such attitudes as dangerously subversive.

Showtime and Live Performances

Meanwhile, back at the hall, The Clash are presenting an irresistible blend of old and new songs, typically including 'Tommy Gun', 'London Calling', 'Brand New Cadillac', 'Janie Jones', 'Clampdown', 'Jimmy Jazz', 'Guns of Brixton', 'Stay Free', 'I Fought the Law', 'Wrong 'Em Boyo', and 'Armagideon Time', all put over with clarity (full marks to sound man Geoff Hooper) and bolstered by the keyboard fullness of Mickey Gallagher.

In the excitement of the show itself, it might be easy to miss, as I did at first, how much improved is the bass-playing of Paul Simonon, but at the Southampton Top Rank, during the sound check, when Jones and Strummer hadn't yet arrived, he, Gallagher, and Headon played themselves in a way that was more than enough to convince me.

Guest Appearances and On-Stage Camaraderie

On many of the shows, they have had guests joining in: at Brighton, the second date, Pete Townshend had been in the dressing room and then mingling with the crowd, and was traced in time to play three songs at the end; at Friars, Aylesbury, the opening night, they had Ian Dury and the Blockheads as support; in London, Townshend was expected again. No encore has been complete without the support bands joining in, whether Mikey Dread, the reggae toaster, Joe Ely, US country-rocker, or slightly overawed members of the local support group.

Post-Show Interaction and Fan Dedication

And after the show? There's a pause while most fans leave the venue—many have travelled some way and have to get home as soon as possible—and then the band makes itself available to any who have waited to see them, for autographs, handshakes, or talk. There's no sign of any willingness to forgo what must be, after a long show and a day's travelling, fairly gruelling meet-the-crowd sessions. Their readiness to talk, coupled with an open-handed generosity which is as misunderstood as it is instinctive, has not helped their relations with the police, since they attract and will stoutly defend a loose following of youngsters who might be described as disaffected if not actually delinquent.

Life on the Road

On the journey back from Southampton, in the comfortable clutter of a customised van, Jones and Strummer sit almost silent as the inevitable reggae pours from the speakers. Talk is desultory and inconsequential, the stop at Motorway Services enlivened only by the search for change and a suitable cigarette machine, and some banter with Iggy Pop's road crew, travelling in the opposite direction.

Future Plans and Recordings

No more singles will be taken from the last LP, and the band has been recording with Mikey Dread a song called 'Bank Robber', and will be doing some more while in the US to make up the follow-up to London Calling. If you have tickets for the shows this Friday and Saturday, February 22 and 23, at the Liberty Cinemas in Balham and Mile End, think yourselves lucky—there aren't many hard rock bands on the road at the moment who could touch them.

Upcoming Shows and Legal Troubles

After the final concert of the tour, at Bristol on February 25, they'll go to Paris for one show and then immediately to the US for ten, including two benefits for hospitalised folk-singer Jackie Wilson. By the time they return, it will probably be time for Gallagher to rejoin Ian Dury's touring band, while The Clash will be completing recordings made on tour.

With their appetite for work, however, it shouldn't be too long before they're off on another UK jaunt, despite the difficulties in making these outings pay. With legal proceedings pending over another bust (of Strummer, Headon, and two road crew at Southsea the weekend before last), it may well be 'The Clash Out on Parole Part II', but they'll be there.

Film Release: Rude Boy

This week sees the London trade showing of a film, Rude Boy, about The Clash and their involvement with a young fan who joins their road crew, by Jack Hazan, maker of A Bigger Splash. The group want nothing to do with the film as it is. Strummer is quoted as saying that he doesn't mind if it is shown, as long as no one has to pay to see it. Rude Boy opens on March 20, at the Prince Charles Cinema.

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DAILY RECORD, Friday, January 11, 1980

POP GOES FRIDAY

A Clash of ideas with the Beeb

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DAILY RECORD, Friday, January 11, 1980

POP GOES FRIDAY

A Clash of ideas with the Beeb

The controversial Clash would rather appear on Tiswas than Top of the Pops, the bastion of the BBC's musical establishment.

After avoiding a custard pie attack on the Saturday morning kids' show, Joe Strummer, the band's outspoken lead singer, gave the thumbs-down to Britain's favourite TV pop programme.

"Top of the Pops is nothing more than an anaemic rice pudding," he told me.

"Why should we stand there like idiots miming at machine gun? How on earth are you supposed to play your guitar with it even plugged in?

We are not prepared to load by load of old rubbish by being on the show."

So far, the band's attitude has resulted in them not having a Top Ten single.

SUBTLE

But their new record, London's Calling, the title track of their latest album, could change all that.

"Maybe they play it on the radio because it doesn't sound as appalling as our last records," joked Joe.

"I think The Clash are more subtle these days. That seems to be the most effective and powerful approach.

People always expect to be hammered over the head when they hear our music—you know, Clash, Bang, Wallop!

"But we got bored with using hammers. WE PREFER TO THROW DARTS IN THEIR EYES INSTEAD.

"So we may get slagged off. So what?

Top of the Pops is nothing more than an anaemic rice pudding.

I'm not gonna get upset just because some bloke's got mushrooms in his ears.

"Our records are still a damn sight better than most of the plastic drivel out at the moment."

The band, who started a marathon UK tour last weekend with Ian Dury as a special guest for their first show, have always been regarded by their fans as pop's political heroes.

"That's not true," said Joe, who up to a few months ago was still living in a London squat.

WORRY

"Just because we didn't write loads of songs about love and women, people think we spend all our time worrying about the economy.

"All I know is whenever I get a free weekend, I spend it twanging a guitar, not at Karl Marx's grave making brass rubbings!"

THE CLASH... turned down Britain's favourite TV pop programme.

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Evening Post, Tuesday, January 8, 1980

The Clash still sound great when angry

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Evening Post, Tuesday, January 8, 1980

The Clash still sound great when angry

ROSS reviews concert at Canterbury

In concert: The Clash front row (from left) Mick Jones, Joe Strummer, Paul Simonon.

"THE CLASH sold out," it said on the door. Of course, they didn't mean it like that.

But what with tours of America, a double album, and an appearance on the sublime TISWAS, the words have been uttered from a good few lips. London Calling marked the parting of the ways for a lot of people no longer prepared to follow the band along the R&R path, especially when there were convenient new heroes at hand, new clothes to wear.

And if the two-tone suit didn't fit, well, there was always the dear old DAMNED to turn to for reassurance. History repeats itself, and The Clash find themselves out on a limb.

But they're still battling. Joe Strummer’s defiant snarl on the opening number Clash City Rockers left no doubts on that score at Canterbury Odeon on Sunday.

The Clash are at their best when they're at their most militant, and the older material like Police and Thieves, Garageland, and Safe European Home still sounds angry and right.

It's no coincidence that in all these songs, Mick Jones keeps a tight rein on his guitar, something not particularly evident on the newer stuff. No more guitar heroes?

Jones and Paul Simonon seemed to be outdoing each other with the matinee idol look (white face, white shirt, collar up, jet black slicked-back hairstyle), Simonon winning with a low-slung bass and a shake from the hip.

They even got a song each—Mick's Stay Free and Paul's Stranglers-esque Guns of Brixton.

Blockhead Mickey Gallagher made himself at home on keyboards, most effectively on the haunting Armagideon Time, while Topper Headon just took everything in his stride—a drummer in a rock 'n' roll band. Maybe the rock 'n' roll band.

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Sounds 2nd February 1980 - Interview and review 4pp

Armadgideon Time

On the road with The Clash
Words by Robbi Miller, pix by Paul Slattery

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February 2, 1980 SOUNDS Page 25

ARMAGIDEON TIME

On the road with The Clash
Words by ROBBI MILLAR, pix by PAUL SLATTERY

QUOTATIONS:

"Heer you with the pass, are they goin' tae do Jimmy Jazz' tonight? It's the best bit o'the album," pre-gig pubescent Glaswegian punk.

"Yeah, 'Jimmy Jazz'. Me and Mick just started messing around in a studio with that song and I never thought I'd see the Apollo full of Scotsmen pogoing to it! Never, never, never," after-gig incredulous Joe Strummer.

LONDON CALLING & EVOLUTION

Just one song at one concert through three albums; but The Clash are treading footmarks into new ground and sort-of fusing people. "Hey, what's this? America does out—you look what—too soon energy course I like songs but it's not the cost of the song once a punk, sa punk and directions changing."

In 1977, The Clash were the greatest hope, inflicting gross unique opinions via the almighty rattle of 'White Riot', the snarling disgust of 'Career Opportunities' with officious conflict against the rock establishment fuelled by the power of their songs.

In 1980, the revolution comes with a whisper rather than a bang as The Clash learn to experiment, stretching out guidelines to cover many individual tastes—from country and jazz to their excellent interpretations of reggae—mixing and weaving them into the utterly "listenable" London Calling album.

Strummer's reaction glows with amusement: "Now that's about music progress, the way they put one on all the time. It stops you getting big-headed. Look at the way they treat bands like Yes." (He splutters.) "I listen to what people think, to what they say (like when Bushell reviewed the album) because I want interest. Like London Calling—listen to it. I'm not scared to say that I wanted a listenable album this time, one that you can just put on the stereo and sit down and hear."

I've landed in the middle of a great big Good Mood. Joe is just part of the multiple evidence of the strong sense of satisfaction resting around The Clash these days. It's boosted, of course, by the joint success of both album and single and adjusted by the complimentary public live response but shines through as a clear indication that the band are writing the music that they really want to. They've lost the need for aggressive walls of defence, for snarling self-righteousness, even for the fluttering political banner of intent.

And the sweet reward is that it works so well. Sales figures aside, the telling live airings of many of these experiments prove them far less permeable, much harder and Clashier than I was expecting. 'Clampdown' kicks out and rolls over 'Rope' style while 'Brand New Cadillac' overdrives on extra energy. 'Armagideon Time' is simply the best Clash reggae classic and embellished with the gleeful Mikey Dread, it's ecstatic. True, I could do without 'Koka Kola' or the second half of the overlong 'Guns Of Brixton', but that's not important. Opinions are single-minded, actions say the most and anyone who doesn't bother to see what's happening with The Clash is a loser.

GLASGOW GIG & ATMOSPHERE

Glasgow isn't highland flings and haggis. The city wears a dirty dour expression on a face made up of sludge-coloured houses and olive-toned grass and, like Manchester, you wonder why it isn't always raining. The inhabitants are abruptly friendly, the language is abrasive, the entertainment looks like nil. To see their favourite band, kids of Glasgow cram into the largest, draughtiest venue in the entire British Isles and stare ever upwards at the twelve-foot (maybe more) high stage.

"It's like playing on the edge of the white cliffs of Dover," muses Joe. "Last time, on a previous tour, was a bloodbath. I looked down from the stage, over the edge, and I could see patches of blood in between the fighting. It was the last night before the Apollo was due to be closed down so all the bouncers were getting even with whoever had caused them trouble in the past."

"The stage was higher last time," decides Mick Jones. "But we were littler then." Dressed in a long black coat, protruding white cuffs and half a pot of Brylcreem, he's full of tongue-in-cheek vanity and odd smirks (who knows if he's laughing at you or with you?) plus lots of bouncy bonhomie.

"I thought I'd better see some daylight today so I came charging out of the hotel, head down, snarling, and there were loads of people waiting," he mock-whines. "'Look,' they say, 'it's Joe Strummer!' Had me signing autographs so I escaped into this churchyard but they even followed me there. Can't get any peace." I don't think he minds so much.

Switch round to ace press wind-up merchant and man of a thousand solutions, Kosmo 'Look-you'll-have-to-wait-I'm-busy' Vinyl, who's decided that if Slattery teaches him how to take photos properly, he'll be able to take all the Clash pics and "sell 'em to the music papers!"

Messrs King and Jenner, official Clash + Blockhead managers, are lurking within the dressing room; Paul and Topper are lurking without, and support 'band' Mikey Dread is doing a brilliant job onstage with only his voice, his backing tapes, and shaking Donald for company. "Takes some nerve," mutters Joe.

16 TONS TOUR & PERFORMANCE

Half an hour later and it's The Clash in command, throwing Glasgow head-over-heels into the 16 Tons tour with the thrashing intro to 'Clash City Rockers'. It wouldn't be fair to use a tour, especially after waiting this long for one, to showcase London Calling so the band grasp handfuls of each album, throwing out a roughed-edged 'Safe European Home' before an incredible Jones guitar-stamped 'Jimmy Jazz'. (As for pogoing, it's the only way you can dance when you're jammed between two rows of seats!)

Strummer's twisted facial contortions alongside Paul Simenon's grim beauty echo the rough and the smooth. 'Janie Jones' and 'White Riot' hustle into the encores in the wake of 'I'm Not Down', a tendency to leave the older songs till later though the set's being changed continually with a top-rate 'White Man In Hammersmith Palais' slotted in between.

You name it, they probably played it, and even on a pokey balcony with the dreaded Kosmo bouncing up and down and shouting in my earhole, the sound's little short of perfect with Paul's big white bass lending the guts to Topper's shamelessly perfect drumming.

Jones, ever in danger of sliding right off the stage and into the arms of the mean bouncers—give 'em a bow tie and watch 'em turn into gorillas—vocally spot on and lead guitar-wise mighty pleased with himself. I'd like to hear 'Supermarket' and 'Spanish Bombs' but not tonight. Rats!

The funny thing is, if you didn't know beforehand you'd probably not notice much difference between the variously aged songs and The Clash, having already surfaced from the teething troubles at Aylesbury unscathed, have fixed their act into such unobtrusive control that I'm not nudged into looking for imperfections. Simply doesn't cross my mind or the minds of about three thousand other folks who also happened to be watching.

Though the audience are all clad in the obligatory 'Destroy' leather gear plus variations, punk is somehow in the past. They've all got the album and they've queued for the posters and programmes. Politics is for Maggot Thatcher; they've come to see The Clash play music, and the next night'll be even better.

GLASGOW POND HOTEL CHAOS

Chaos-ville in Glasgow's Pond Hotel tonight. Not only is everyone in high spirits 'cos of the show but some idiot's gone and booked a convention of the Scottish Crime Squad into the self-same building—which is much like testing a gas leak with a lighted match.

The two factions are not on agreeable terms as the faithful cops have managed to turn up at pretty well every hotel the band has yet stayed at, these being hard to come by at the best of times, and cheering up the hotel bosses greatly. Whether this is because of Topper's ghastly attempts at whipping tablecloths from banqueting tables without adequate practice, or because The Clash are associated with a certain 'evil' cult known as punk rock, I shall leave the reader to decide. But when tour manager Johnny Green loses his glasses, his temper, and his ability to avoid breaking glass, it's time for bed—as Zebedee would say.

INTERVIEW

Calling. The time is midnight; the place is Joe's room. He's in the grey trilby and the hooded eyes while I'm in the red corner with ballpoint pen.

Whether it's through choice or circumstance, it's Strummer that seems to be doing the main explanations on this season's round of Clash interviews, though with easy manner and ready smile, he's content to answer any queries that me or Slattery put forward and if he's trying hard not to put his foot in it or make any of the 'quoted mistakes' that the Clash used to make then it don't show one bit.

Joe airs vast musical knowledge, stuns me into the horrified silence, that too bad a memory and too little worldly music knowledge is bound to invite, and doubles back.

"You know, I listen to the radio and a record comes on and, click, I know all about that record. I think, 'What's the use of knowing a million and one completely useless facts about rock and roll?' Most people forget them but I seem to retain everything!"

What Joe won't forget is that the present Clash single is the highest charted Clash single yet and still no Top Of The Pops.

"Yeah. Seems to have been steady in the charts for ages. I mean, I was listening to the radio today and the bloke said 'London Calling', great song though, it's down the charts a bit' so I rushed right round to Kosmo to see what had happened. It was only two or three places: I was imagining number twenty-nine or something."

Strummer's contentment on that score is clear, and the success has ironed over a lot of wrinkles including the CBS situation. How's relations now?

"Explosive!" he laughs. "No, about six months ago I think it was pretty bad. I really thought they were going to boot us out or something. We did the album as almost a last try, it's funny how things work better in that situation, and today it's such a different thing. You know, I've finally realised that we can actually sell records!"

Autumn's a strange time to release an album?

Joe: "Only superstars and lunatics release albums before Christmas—we're in the second category but it had to be done then you see."

What's next on the agenda?

"Single? In Manchester, we're going to record 'Bank Robber' with Mikey Dread and see what happens. If we can get a three-track single organised then we could have a track off the album and another new song for the B-side."

'Bank Robber' is strange. I've still to make up my mind as it's not catchy in the same vein as 'London Calling' for sure. Still, any idea set against pilfering hit albums for singles, Blondie style, is welcome and with Mikey Dread "at the controls," who knows?

"Mikey's a great bloke. He was a d.j. on a Jamaican radio station and they tried, you know, to keep everything calm and relaxed and easy but Mikey'd come on the air and liven things up too much for them so they threw him out. I think he's got so much front to do his show in front of that lot" (indicating the Scottish crowd) "with only his tapes."

A black guy producing a Clash single seemed inevitable. Their sole form of tour musical entertainment depends on an enormous collection of reggae tapes played continuously from hotel to dressing room, but the Clash are, sure, one of the only white bands that are capable of doing it the way it should be done.

"The reggae boom's bigger and stronger now than it's ever been. Look at what the Police have done, especially in America. The elitism of the music scares a lot of people away but over in America we used to get these typical middle-class Americans coming up to us saying 'Hey! Are you gonna play any of that reggae?" (mid-west accent) and we'd ask why—and they'd say 'But we like it!' Now, if they lap up the Police, why not get them to try some of the real stuff.

"There was a lot of prejudice against playing anything that had black-sounding voices. They only took to Chuck Berry, you know, 'cos he sounded almost white. They didn't find out he was black until afterwards."

INTERVIEW CALLING

Moving back to Clash music, I wonder how many people have only just adopted the band with the advent of London Calling; so much more generally accessible than the last LPs.

Joe recalls: "We always used to get people coming up to us and saying 'Why don't you put the lyrics in the album?'. Well of course, this time we did and one guy in Edinburgh comes up and says to me 'Why do you always say put the lyrics in the album?' I creased up laughing. I could see that one coming."

THE FUTURE AND POLITICS

People's memories are short and, apparently, Slattery pops in with the neat question of how much the future depresses Joe. With conflict all over the globe, does he get bothered about another world war?

"No. I've given it all up now. What's the point; I couldn't give a toss. I was watching this programme called Weekend World, you know, the one with the really mad bashing Mountain theme music. They were going on about atomic missiles. Bollocks to it! If there is another war, then nuclear arms are up to such a high standard that it'll be a case of pressing a button and eliminating an entire army. What's the point of worrying? I just enjoy myself. Have you seen Apocalypse Now? That's an incredible film. You know, it doesn't leave you, it's like a dream. Marlon Brando's the craziest general I've ever seen; and they have this shot with him in the dark with just the light shining on his bald head. Incredible film."

The whole doomy, newspaper frenzy about the future shows through on the present single, with Joe heaping together a load of snippets that he's read in papers into the words.

"I kept seeing all these headlines warning about the future like the sun getting closer to the earth, at the same time, another ice-age—how's that possible?—and thought that, well, whatever happens you're best to be right in the middle of it. I'd rather have a missile land on my head than die slowly with radiation sickness."

LOOKING AHEAD

A pause for alcoholic sustenance ensues before a return to less morbid future events. Simenon's going to the States to do a film after the tour finishes, and the rest of the band may well go too.

Joe: "Joe Ely's recording an album so me and Mick might go and help on that score."

The band's interest in the States, as far as Joe's concerned, seems more a fascination than a liking for the place. "I like all the old movies on TV. Over here, the television ends at midnight but there you can sit and watch really great films all night."

Such films have ranked high in the Clash's collective ideas for London Calling and Joe can't understand why national entertainment is so limited in Britain, as he looks with disgust at the hotel-fitted transistor with its tinny "late night Radio Two" type garbage. Slattery suggests that the English like being told what to do; that they love a Hitler figure. Strummer reckons we've already got one:

"I never thought Thatcher would be the way she is. I mean, I knew she was an arsehole but she's bulldozed through everything. Even so," (harping back to morbidity and looking out over the uninspiring Glasgow skyline) "this place is still better than America. I'd rather be blown up here than there."

ON NEW MUSIC

Ask what Strummer thinks of the new music awareness; bands like Joy Division, even mod bands.

Joe: "I haven't seen any of the mod bands. I don't go to gigs that often now 'cos sometimes, I don't know, I can't take it. I'd rather stay at home. But I don't like the 'new musik' that's being picked up on. It's got no real tune to it, there are no songs and it's not what I think of as music."

I point out that these bands are gaining phenomenal interest and large advances.

ADVANCES AND RECORD LABELS

"But when I see a group boasting about how big an advance they've secured I just think about how naive and stupid they are, just like we were. If you get a small band that makes just enough advance to set them up in good equipment and pay off any costs, then I think they're sensible. It's only a loan. You're supposed to pay it back and, honestly, there is no such thing as a free lunch!

"I wish the independent record labels had had more success. Perhaps in three, five years' time or so I'd like to think we might reach a position, like in Jamaica, where there's lots of small labels and all the big ones, like CBS, are reduced right down to the size where they operate from tiny offices."

CLASH FILM WRANGLES

On a completely different subject, what does Joe think about the Clash film wrangles? He smiles: "I don't really know much. I don't know what'll happen. We don't want it released but Bernie Rhodes signed the contract over the film just before we parted company with him. None of us have signed it and it's only written on a really scrappy bit of paper, the back of an envelope or something. The band are promised a set wage and there's a quote about percentages but it's all very dodgy."

INTERNATIONAL TOUR PLANS

The Clash are taking bigger steps towards the band world circuit now, and thinking of all the countries, continents and islands to be visited. What about going to, say, Japan?

"We've sold a few albums out there and the band might do some sort of tour later on. See how things go. We always put off the idea of going to Japan, thinking that the scene was very repressed with careful supervision and great big concert halls but some of the gigs only hold about three hundred or so."

EARLY GIGS AND FAN BASE

What's the smallest place the Clash have played? Their second gig, in a pub, had an audience of one lone drunk refugee from the club/disco below where the bouncers were having the shit beaten out of them by a bunch of squaddies. The Acklam Hall was larger and quieter.

Joe: "Those gigs were good. It was mainly people from the area who turned up, like the Ladbroke Grove skins. They wanted White Riot and they were yelling that it was about that area. O.K. we thought and we played it. There wasn't any trouble at all."

EVOLUTION OF CLASH GIGS

The days of disrupted Clash gigs seem over. They died a death when Rotten became Lydon and Virgin 'lost' Sid to wherever he took the decaying remains of punk rock, leaving only scarred devotees in Boy bondage pants to keep the tradition alive.

So there was never really any need for the Clash to desert "the cause" for it died its own unnatural death and left two choices: carry on fashion or carry on music. The Clash chose the latter, and changed, and hung onto their individuality by doing what they wanted in their own way. But it's certainly worth the thought that even if the nation was still throbbing to the 1-2-3-4 beat of Rotten and the Pistols, if the Clash still wished to explore their own interests, be they reggae, jazz or disco, then they would surely have done just that and nothing would have made a blind difference.

LIVE PERFORMANCE AT THE APOLLO

As for selling out, the Apollo is sold out on Tuesday night. From the safest vantage point of a corner of the stage, I can see the balcony not swaying but bouncing under a mass attack of numerous moving bodies, and punters defying the wrath of bouncers in order to dance to the Clash. The gig is ace and there're three encores and I remember something that Mick Jones said to photographer Slattery last Autumn in Boston, USA.

"I think we're getting better."

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source (1) ---- source (2) ---- souce (3)

CBS Internal News magazine

CBS Internal News magazine released (containing 12 printed sides) on this the 14th of March 1980 Covering the Clash's 16 Tons Tour & Toppers torn thumb ligament.

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THE CLASH 

The Clash and their fans had a disappointing end to an otherwise triumphant 16 Tons Tour when a tom thumb ligament put drummer Topper Headon out of action, forcing several gigs to be cancelled. We felt sure that the fans would rather wait for a proper Clash show than a half-assed Clash show with a substitute drummer, said the band's manager, Peter Jenner. The lost dates will be rescheduled for June, when the band return from overseas commitments. People with tickets for the cancelled dates can obtain a refund from the place of purchase, or check with the box office about holding onto the tickets. Ticket holders will have priority for the new dates. 

As soon as Topper's thumb healed, The Clash dashed from a Paris television appearance to San Francisco, where their U.S. tour started at the beginning of the month. Aher coast-to-coast dates (including two benefit gigs for singer Jacky Wilson, who is seriously ill), the band knock off for six weeks. During the break bassist Paul Simonon will be in California making his acting debut in a film tentatively entitled "The Punk" in which, he says, he will be playing himself 

THE CLASH

Meanwhile The Clash's magnificent "London Calling double album has hit the U.S. Top Forty (with a bullet) to mounting excitement and in-creasingly heavy nationwide radio airplay. Elsewhere the LP (Clash 3) is Number Two in Abbaland (Sweden, of course), Top Forty in Australia, Top Ten in various parts of Europe, and has leapt into the Top Ten in Japan first week. It looks like the whole world is receiving the message from "London Calling loud and clear. 

Clash photographs by Pennie Smith

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Record Mirror, If I had a hammer

2 pg interview, Vol 27 - No 03

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10 Record Mirror, January 19, 1980
Interview by Barry Cain | Picture by Bob Hope

IF I HAD A HAMMER

Will The Clash win? Can they knock down the system? Will Joe Strummer get his head kicked in?

Soho Streets and Slow Bucks

Three years ago. And it's raining in Soho. The James Cagney of punk, Joe Strummer—stone-faced, steel-capped, stacked high—steers and stares, as usual. The pub crawls with music scene middlemen, many of whom have since made their quick buck on the shores of insincerity. They deserved to drown. Strummer swam—and found the slow buck.

"Back in those days," he says, "I’d often switch on to the sentiment in the street. People now haven’t got control of anything. They’re lost. So they’ll do everything in their power to increase it. I know I’m never gonna beat them. I don’t believe in people. They must be morons to stand for all this. There’s nothing after ultimate control—just bombsites and a few survivors. Roll the credits—end. You’ll know when that control comes. Things will start BOOMING. Industry... unemployment will drop, people will march for Queen and country. And I’ll get my head kicked in."

Bunker Talks and Band Tensions

Now, Joe Strummer is holed up in the Clash bunker at Rehearsal Hill. "Political power grows from the barrel of a gun," he mutters. Next to him, Mick Jones—part Humphrey Bogart, part Casablanca anti-hero—looks depressed. "Maybe a million wasn’t really out for this," he says. In a corner, Paul Simenon—the Streatham Locarno lotus eater—sits patiently. "I never did like Mondays," he mutters. Below, Topper Headon works flat out in the basement, supplying the ammo. "They’ll never snare me in the humdrum bum," he grins.

Outside, they load the batteries into the loudspeaker. Next door, Lester Bangs hammers on the wall. "So predictable. So dull," he complains. "I’m trying to write a million-word article on The Rubettes!"

Rain pours down the back of the roadie holding the loudspeaker, storming rivulets off his trilby. "Come out with your hands up," someone shouts. "Come in and get us, Topper—sorry, copper," jokes Joe.

Television, Sell-Outs, and Subtlety

Sweat rolls down Joe's cheek. "There’s no way we’re gonna appear on Top of the Pops alive. You won’t get us standing there like pricks, propping up a load of old rubbish. How can we bash our guitars with passion when the mike’s phoney? That show’s like an anaemic rice pudding. Give me Tiswas any day."

"We’ll never prostitute ourselves," adds Mick. "You might as well give someone a blow job for 10 bob than appear on Top of the Flops." Lester bangs again. "Shut up!" he yells.

"The world’s full of assholes," says Joe. "Whatever you do, there’s always 20 people slagging you off—and they’re always the loudest. When they hear our music, they want to be hit over the head with a hammer. But we got bored with hammers. Now we throw darts in their eyes instead. Subtlety works better."

Criticism and Clash Philosophy

"Your new album’s crap!" someone shouts from the street. Joe shrugs. "No matter what, someone’s ready to slag you off. We see it differently—that’s enough for us. I love it when someone writes to the papers saying London Calling is rubbish. Ho ho ho—I get my kicks out of that."

Mick lights a cigarette. "Maybe we should’ve brought the first album out again for these idiots."

"No," says Joe. "Maybe we should’ve brought out a hammer. People expecting something heavy from us... Well, it’s still better than most of the other plastic rubbish—like PIL or The Jam. I don’t get any kicks from them."

Paul chimes in: "We never get complacent. That’s the only sin—repeating yourself. If people want the same thing, they can get it from The Ruts or UK Subs. There’s plenty of bands like that."

Touring, Reality, and Moving On

"We’ve got to take care of business," says Joe. "We might as well go to that bigger dump over there and not sell any records. We haven’t been to Japan yet, but we’ll try this year. Wind people up deliberately—that’s us. On the new album cover, we’ve got captions: Clash in Texas, Clash on Tour. It’s a total wind-up."

"People look at us the wrong way," adds Mick. "When I sang about sten guns in Tommy Gun, it wasn’t about us having guns. But people twist things."

Paul laughs. "Those army fatigues? We designed them with loads of pockets—to hide dope. Better than those bondage trousers everyone tripped over."

Legacy and Final Thoughts

"Look," Joe says, "we love music. I’m obsessed with it. If I had a weekend off, I’d spend it playing guitar—not reading Marx. People think we’re some political statement. We’re just a band—one that refuses to stand still."

Father Tracy enters, still fondling his rosary. Joe smirks, "Here’s looking at you, kid."

"But I’m supposed to say that," laughs Mick.

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Archive PDF ---- 2 pg interview,

Melody Maker ---- 26th January 1980

Consuming Passion, Out of the streets (Joe Strummer)

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Page 14 - MELODY MAKER, January 26, 1980

CONSUMING PASSION

Out of the Streets

by SIMON FRITH

White Riot and Punk Politics

The streets? He's a radical tourist...
The Clash, of course, were not the first group to write a song called "White Riot". A song of the same title appears in the Weatherman Song Book, which came out around 1969. Their song was sung to the tune of "White Christmas", but its sentiments were much the same. The Weathermen, the guerrilla remnants of the 1960s anti-racist, anti-war movements, had their own version of punk politics, their own theory of white devilry: "We're against everything that's good and decent!"

Revolutionary Youth Movement and Cultural Shifts

RYM, the Revolutionary Youth Movement, aimed to bring together the garret and the garage, the café and the beach, the commune and the classroom. Weatherpolitics was to be destructive dancing in the streets; the backing track was to be rock 'n' roll, the insistent scratching of the White Panthers. The Revolutionary Youth Movement was to be just that—a movement of youth against adults, all adults, workers too. The enemy was the flabby white American consumer.

"We are all prostitutes," The Pop Group is still singing, "Our children shall rise up against us, because we are the ones to blame." But there's no RYM in Britain, just young members of old groups, papier-mâché glory boys. And the FBI celebrated the end of the 1970s by removing the few remaining Weatherpeople from the wanted list.

The Clash and "London Calling"

It turns out The Clash are the MC5 of the modern world, and "London Calling" is, in every respect, their "Back In The USA". It's packed with good rock manners—spirited, etc.—but lacks the old rumble of discontent. Everyone likes "London Calling". Robin Denselow, in The Guardian, could almost hear it as a folk LP: "And Joe Strummer can now actually sing, which once seemed about as likely as him voting Conservative." An unfortunate simile, in the circumstances.

Shifts from Streets to Studio

The dumber cultural commentators have been predicting psychedelia, neo-hippies to follow the neo-mods, but the basic shift has already happened—the struggle has moved from the street to the studio (and the only revival we're going to get is teeny-bop idols). "London Calling" is a dexterous coda to the mass movement—but the slogan as pop song has changed. The good arguments now are about art, about music itself: the politics of meaning. It's the difference between The Clash and Gang of Four.

What's going on is the breakdown of genre confidence—the critical failure of the concepts that used to fix musical meaning. I keep hearing the same musical effects in records that come out of quite different contexts. Trevor Wishart's "Beach Singularity" comes from the avant-garde academy; This Heat are instrumental rock progressives; PIL, The Fall, The Slits, Raincoats, and Essential Logic represent strands of punk; Thomas Leer and Robert Rental are amateur mechanics. These musicians are packaged and sold variously, according to origin, but all of them use pop language in the same self-conscious way. All of them are unmelodic, improvised, and drone to unmelodic effect; all of them get most fun from rhythmic space.

Assessing the New Sound

My difficulty is to share the fun. Reviewers and friends aren't helpful. The Slits' album, for instance, is, to my ears, essentially tedious because the group can't, technically, play more than a steady variation on an eccentric range of a limited theme—percussion, nagging, free vocals. Essential Logic's album sounds more adventurous; The Raincoats sound tougher. But even with these LPs, which I like, I'm not sure how to assess them. I've got a suspicion that if I'd ever listened to jazz-based or improvised music, all these records would sound naive.

The rock critical vocabulary, meanwhile, rests on soul-pouring assumptions—music as the expression of the musicians' feelings—and so these flat sounds are judged as angry, anxious, etc. The musicians, though—John Lydon even—have substituted objectivity for rock artists' traditional subjectivity. The new art rock is self-disciplined (well, sometimes), dispassionate; scepticism and humour are, at last, replacing solemnity and pomp. Robert Rental is not, thank God, Keith Emerson; anonymity, not personality, is the style (and all record companies get to sell is Gary Numan).

Reversed Pop/Rock Terms

The joke is that the original terms of the pop/rock distinction have been reversed. Rock sound and principles (originality, honesty, vision, sincerity, technique, etc.) are now the most solid commercial formulas; the most challenging musicians work on pop noises—a disco beat. Art has to be shown to be artifice. And what I'd like to know is how all those kids I saw queuing up to buy "Metal Box" for Christmas listen to it.

Photo credit: SHEILA ROCK
PIC: Joe Strummer: The good arguments now are about art—the politics of meaning.

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Enlarge Image source 1 --- Enlarge Image source 2

22 December 1979

Record Mirror Interview - The Clash Story

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20 Record Mirror, December 22, 1979

THE CLASH STORY

As told by Joe Strummer and Mick Jones

Early Days and Formation

Joe Strummer (vocals), Mick Jones (guitar), Paul Simonon (bass), Topper Headon (drums).

If you want some information, then this is where you'll get it. In May 1976, a drummerless group began rehearsing in a small squat near Shepherd's Bush Green in London. Paul Simonon was the bass player, and he had been playing for only six weeks. He was from the wilds of Brixton. His parents had split up, and he had lived mostly with his father before landing a free scholarship to a posh art school.

Then a friend said, "Why don't you join my group?" The guy who said this was Mick Jones, the lead guitarist, also from Brixton. Mick's dad was a cab driver, and Mick lived with his parents until they divorced when he was eight. His mum went to America, and his dad left home, so Mick went to live with his gran. When The Clash formed, he was occasionally showing up at Hammersmith Art School.

These two guys asked Joe Strummer to be the singer. At the time, Joe was singing with a London pub band he had formed to pass the time and pay the rent. Upon being asked, he quit the group immediately and joined the prototype Clash. Keith Levene, guitarist, was also a founding member but left the group early on, saying he had some urgent business to take care of in North London.

First Steps and Early Gigs

In August '76, this group was refurbishing an abandoned warehouse in Camden Town. When it was finished, the rock began. Terry Chimes, drummer, was enlisted, and every day the warehouse shook with the sound of hard practice.

At this time, there was nowhere to play. For example, the famous Marquee Club, supposed to be the home of rock & roll, told The Clash: "Sorry, mate, no punk rock in here." So gigs were created by Bernie Rhodes, then manager. One day, during a particularly nasty gig when bottles and cans were coming down like rain, Terry Chimes quit after watching a wine bottle come flying over and smash into a million pieces on his hi-hat.

Oh well. A drummerless group is no good. So auditions were held every afternoon in Camden Town. Two hundred and six tried, and two hundred and five failed. Nicky "Topper" Headon outdrummed all comers and won the hot seat. By this time, although the group had not noticed, they had caused a sizeable reaction in the outside world.

Record Deal and First Album

For example, CBS coughed up a load of money and signed them. They got to use CBS Number 3 Studios in London and made an LP, The Clash, in three weekend sessions, using their soundman as producer.

They went out as the bottom-of-the-bill opening act on the ill-fated Anarchy Tour of December '76. They put together and headlined their own White Riot tour in early '77, taking along Buzzcocks, The Slits, and Subway Sect. No one had seen anything like it as the tour bus rolled further away from London. Journalists from The Sunday Times wrote detailed accounts as Rodent, the road manager, carved his arm up with Coke cans and cigarette ends. The LP shocked the group by entering the chart at No. 12. Luckily, their singles, with a guaranteed lack of airplay, could not get past No. 28.

Thus, they were saved from Bay City Rollerdom on any scale. Just to make sure, they refused to appear on Top of the Pops, which they considered an old pop TV show left over from the 1960s that required performers to mime along as their record played at low volume somewhere in the distance.

Reggae Influence and "Police & Thieves"

For a long time, the new "dub" and "reggae" from Kingston, Jamaica, had been making itself felt to those prepared to listen in London. Police & Thieves was a summer reggae hit in the clubs but not on the radio. The Clash recorded a six-minute punk rock translation of this song and stuck it on their LP. At the time, most white musicians believed that attempting to play such music showed a lack of respect and an attitude of condescension. But luckily, when they heard this, they knew it was a good idea.

Lee "Scratch" Perry, co-author and producer of the original Junior Murvin tune, added a picture of The Clash to his Wall of Fame at the Black Ark Studios in Jamaica after hearing their version. Theirs are the only white faces on this wall.

"Complete Control" and Touring Chaos

Scratch visited London in mid-'77 and found himself producing a new Clash song, Complete Control. Midway through the session, Scratch told Mick Jones that he played guitar "with an iron fist." The song also climbed to No. 28, but even this wasn't enough to stop the tour. They played every major town and city where the group was not banned, with Richard Hell from America and The Lou's from France completing the bill.

After the smoke cleared, there was nothing but a big pile of bills, all addressed to The Clash. Financial necessity forced the group to play unseated venues, with ticket prices pegging around $20. This was also the heyday of "spitting" or "gobbing." On behalf of The Clash, I'd like to thank Richard Hell and The Voidoids for drawing more than their share of the fire.

European Tour and Legal Troubles

The Clash rode airplanes around Europe ceaselessly for more than a month, struggling with police and hoteliers in Munich, irate TV producers in Bremen, bomb threats and attacks from the Rageri in Sweden, beer and short change from Rhineland barkeepers, and threats on the Reeperbahn. When they got back home, everything was different. Many contemporary groups had splintered, their daily movements became a subject of interest, some clubs shut down, and a general depression settled on the town.

Withstanding scathing and sneering press attacks, The Clash learned you had to take the rough with the smooth and decided not to break up.

During this time, various members were continually being arrested and fined for petty theft and vandalism. This culminated in an incident on the roof of the group’s warehouse in Camden Town when a helicopter and armed police arrested two members, charging them with various gun offences and the shooting of valuable racing pigeons.

Second Album and Continued Success

While the case was on remand, The Clash released White Man in Hammersmith Palais b/w Don't Wanna Be a Prisoner and embarked on a Clash Out On Parole Tour with Suicide from New York and The Specials from Coventry.

To get back to music, it was time to make a second LP. To prevent arguments, producer Sandy Pearlman was hired. He seemed keen to do it. Despite the usual disasters, recording proceeded. The new LP was recorded in London before going on tour—their best ever—with Suicide handling violent assaults from rougher British Clash audiences.

After the tour, guitar solos were added at the Automat in San Francisco, and final mixing was done at the Record Plant NYC. Give 'Em Enough Rope was completed and released in November 1978, shooting straight to No. 2 in the British charts the week of release. It also gave The Clash their first bona fide hit with Tommy Gun.

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Source / date unknown ' 2pp

Sounds Interview SOMEBODY GOT MURDERED

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Page 16, 17
SOUNDS
December 27, 1980

SOMEBODY GOT MURDERED

The Clash's Joe Strummer nukes the knockers.
Interview by PETE SILVERT
Div by JILL FURMANOVSKY

Selling Out and Early Days

"I'm sure that people who used to come and see us right at the start were shouting 'Sell out' when we put out the first album," says Joe Strummer.

"People used to get hold of me in the World's End (a pub at the 'wrong' end of King's Road) when I was living down there. Fans of Adam and the Ants would say, 'You've sold out.' I'd go, 'Compared to who?' and they'd reply, 'Adam and the Ants, that's who. He stays down here and just plays that basement over there.'"

"Now those very same people are going round saying: 'Adam and the what? Never 'eard of him.'"

Life at Ladbroke Grove

These days, Joe Strummer shares a tiny, chaotic Ladbroke Grove flat with his girlfriend of three years, Gabby. He's only got it on a short let and has to move out in March. Last week, the Abbey National turned him down for a mortgage; he wasn't considered a good enough risk.

They live virtually in one room. "It's cheaper heating one room than two," says Gabby. On the walls: Xerox postcards of guns, Marilyn Monroe, and a large poster of Elvis Presley looking coolly over his left shoulder.

On the mantelpiece: a Sandinista! card, more Marilyn Monroe pictures, and a glaring album sleeve—Dub Her Blouse And Skirt Vol.

The messy table is cluttered with half-empty containers of orange juice, grape juice, and Hellmann's Real Mayonnaise. The centre of the room is dominated by a large, powerful stereo system and a small portable TV.

Currently on the deck: Sly and Robbie In Dub, Gregory Isaacs, Hugh Mundell, and the Stray Cats.

Court Troubles and SPG Encounter

Dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and red braces, Strummer recounts his morning: "I was in court today. Picked up on suspicion by the SPG. They raided my flat and found three ounces of home-grown. I reckon they singled me out because of the way I looked—wide-brimmed trilby, leather jacket, and carrier bag. I did look a bit dodgy but nothing eccentric like a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit."

He was lucky in court, getting off with a £100 fine, but one encounter shook him: "The arresting officer had a tie with a strange motif—he said it was a striking cobra, the unofficial SPG tie. He told me, 'We were thinking of having a peach tree...' It took a while to sink in—he was referring to Blair Peach (the teacher who died at the hands of the SPG last year). I heard that with my own ears this morning."

Sandinista! and Its Reception

Whether they like it or not, The Clash are caught in a world that feels more like a battle zone than the comfortable neuroses of Crossroads. The new album, Sandinista!, has intensified accusations that they exploit others' pain for success.

After ten days of listening, I remain ambivalent: it sprawls, its ambitions exceed its achievements, but at least they've tried. Tracks like "The Magnificent Seven", "Junco Partner", "Police On My Back", and "Somebody Got Murdered" are as good as anything they've done—only calmer.

"We've got a nerve, that's what it is," says Strummer. "Coming out with three LPs when Bruce Springsteen and The Damned manage two. It's a sixties thing, like Chicago Transit Authority. But we thought, 'What the heck?' We’d been messing with all this gear; we decided to lay it on everyone."

He adds: "When we put out London Calling, I thought it got a unanimous thumbs-down. Now, people say Sandinista! isn’t like London Calling. It takes time to sink in. And as for 'indulgence,' we're not saddling fans—we're taking no royalties on the first 200,000 copies. I've seen it in shops for £4.29. The listener isn’t paying for our 'indulgence.'"

Political Intentions and Media Perception

Isn't calling it Sandinista! a dilettantish gesture?
"Could be. But if we don't do it, who will? No one's covered this ground. The Sandinistas taking power was the best news I’ve heard in years. Usually, it's repression and shutdowns. But this—people pulling themselves together, ousting Somoza after decades. I found out through the Nicaraguan Solidarity Campaign book, The People's War. We’d heard on the grapevine before that."

War Themes and Everyday Violence

But doesn’t Mick Jones wearing a battle helmet on the album cover contradict the anti-war lyrics?

"That's your interpretation. He's under an overpass in King's Cross wearing it because soon, we all might be. We spent a lot of time recording in helmets."

"Sure, no one’s strafing us, but it feels like war out there. Go to any gig: 'Ooo, you lookin’ at, John?' Five years ago at the Marquee, seeing the Feelgoods, it wasn’t like that. Violence isn’t just getting kneed—it’s systemic. The way women are treated—that’s violence."

Ambition, Criticism, and Personal Growth

Don’t you feel burdened carrying the world’s cares?

"Yeah, sometimes. I'm a sucker for it—but it's my choice. I believe in reaching for the moon. Sure, knowing your limits is supposed to be mature. But how can you know until you try? I've fallen in the mud plenty."

Critics say you’ve become 'professional.'

"I should hope so. Do something long enough—you’d better improve. We're always trying to play what we couldn’t before. I’ve even sworn to properly learn guitar—it’s usually all six strings or none."

American Influence and Track Analysis

Is Sandinista! consciously American?

"There’s influence, sure. But take Side One: "The Magnificent Seven"—American. "Hitsville UK"—that’s English. "Junco Partner"—New Orleans. "Ivan Meets GI Joe"—about American cruise missiles here. "The Leader" and "Something About England"—both English. It's mixed."

And "The Call Up" mentions an American draft address.

"True, but maybe that’s coming here too. They’ve got it already in the States."

Personal Life and Relationships

Gabby arrives home from work—she’s in a government-sponsored youth theatre group—and chides Joe for forgetting the laundry. Contrite, he heads out. On the way back, we visit Dub Vendor—he browses while I buy Dennis Brown’s "Bloody City."

Back home, Joe picks up a pink cowboy bow-tie: "Had this for days, just got the courage to wear it."

"Not surprised," says Gabby, "You look a right pansy."

Management and Band Dynamics

You’ve parted ways with your third management, Blackhill?

"They were handling tours, but with Ian Dury, Roy Harper, and others, their plate was full. We withdrew gracefully."

Now Kosmo looks after you?

"Not officially—we pay him sometimes. Just mucking about together."

Is Mick Jones in the States with Ellen Foley?

"Yeah. She stayed here ages—it dragged for her. Over there, it’s her turf."

Has that relationship caused tension?

"Not at all. We’re past that. Early on, we’d have struggled. Not now."

The 101’ers and Nostalgia

You’re releasing a 101’ers compilation?

"Yeah—live tape of us trying to impress a Van Der Graaf Generator crowd. We got nowhere—then Trouble the dog wandered onstage, crowd went mad. I gave up."

Looking back, fans wanted White Riot played every show. True?

"Yeah. Mick said I was perpetuating crap by wanting to play it. Sometimes we feel wild—we play it. If not, we don’t."

Age, Anger, and Moving Forward

You seem keener to promote this album.

"Gotta hit the market. Selling isn’t shameful—we employ people. And I’m 28 now—maybe I’m less angry. But younger people can take that mantle. People tell me I’m cool but Mick Jones isn’t—I just say, 'Go fuck yourselves.' This is me. I’m not some fringe-wearing soul-searcher—never could grow one anyway."

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29 December 1979

Melody Maker - Clash: one step beyond

Interview

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Page 12 - MELODY MAKER, December 29, 1979

Clash: One Step Beyond

Mick Jones models leather fashions, circa 1945.
Wallbeam plus support (Joe Strummer).
"Where's m' automobile?" — Paul Simonon.
Garage band in Garageland: Topper Headon, Joe Strummer (above), Paul Simonon (below), and Mick Jones.

They're Not the Same. Are You?

CHRIS BOHN talks to Joe Strummer about new directions for the original agitprop rockers.

INSIDE The Clash's new rehearsal studio, under a railway bridge somewhere in South London, Joe Strummer is singing a slow country blues about rolling boxcars, twisting his head way down to reach a low mic perched next to an electric piano.

To his right, Mick Jones, dressed in black shirt, vest, and trousers—looking like a maverick from a Western B-movie—plays with a bottleneck slide. To his left, Paul Simonon slouches on a barstool, resembling the silhouette logo on Top of the Pops. Behind them, Topper Headon occasionally drops a beat while throwing drumsticks for his dog.

This is the new Clash: relaxed, unfettered by what Strummer calls the "bullshit" chains that some would use to bind them to their past. They’ll later worry about their lack of productivity, but by the time they hit the stage in January, the music will undoubtedly be as tough and tight as ever.

Their upcoming performances will feature a surge of new material from their third album, London Calling. The album showcases an ardent, youthful-sounding band allowing itself a broader emotional range beyond the expected sentiments. The sound is exhilarating, shifting from the loping "Jimmy Jazz" to the politically charged swing of "Clampdown," the rough-edged reggae of "Lover's Rock," and the energetic rock of "I'm Not Down" and "Hateful." Inspiration comes from rock 'n' roll, old movies, Raymond Chandler, and more—not just personal experiences, which previously limited the scope of The Clash and Give 'Em Enough Rope.

Breaking Out of Their Own Confines

Those earlier albums were necessarily narrow, pushing punk’s urgent message. But life evolves, and so have The Clash. They've learned from numerous mistakes and are now more cautious in interviews—friendly and helpful, without the eagerness to provide "good copy" that’s haunted them.

"The trouble is the newspaper man likes music," says Strummer. "It’s like the fairy tale—people forget the basic thing because they’re too caught up in the bullshit. We’re just a group that releases records; that’s the face of it. But people think they have to swallow all the extra nonsense. That’s why I liked Blind Date in your paper—because the reviewer had to judge the tune and beat, not what trousers someone’s wearing. Aw, I dunno."

Easy to say now, but The Clash, with or without Bernie Rhodes (their early manager, pivotal in shaping their political identity), laid the blueprint for socio-political punk. Confrontation—whether with authority, their record label (CBS), or their audience—was integral.

Even on London Calling, Strummer romanticises the "artists at war" image in "Spanish Bombs." "I got that from reading Orwell and the like. I’ve gone through my Starsky and Hutch phase. If there was another one, I wouldn’t rush to the front line. 'Live by the gun, die by the gun'—truer words were never said."

Hard Work, Not Rock 'n' Roll Clichés

The Clash remain committed—ensuring the songs are right, the band is fit, and every performance is delivered with intensity. "It’s about 300 times more physical than just sitting on a stool," says Strummer, now 27. "Before 25, your body doesn’t keep score. Afterwards, burning the candle at both ends gets you real sick. All that junkie rock 'n' roll stuff doesn’t appeal to me—that’s the easy way out."

He elaborates on "Rudie Can't Fail": "It’s about mates who drink brew for breakfast. They think nothing of it. I noticed it because I can’t do that every day anymore. Hell of a way to start the day."

Their focus is on positivity—getting basics right and helping fans directly by cutting album prices. London Calling: 18 tracks for £5. "Most of them worth having, too," Strummer grins.

From Desperation to Victory

Ironically, the album’s vibrancy emerged from their lowest point. Legal fees, extricating themselves from Bernie Rhodes, and parting ways with Caroline Coon left The Clash reevaluating everything. "We took management into our own hands until we had the album sorted, then handed it to Blackhill Enterprises. We didn’t wanna spend all day on the phone," explains Strummer.

"We were tight economically. This album was make or break. Strangely, that relaxed us—nothing mattered anymore. Desperation—I’d recommend it," he laughs.

Their solution: a £2 wall of sound, recording on twin Teac decks to keep costs low. "We said to ourselves: we’d never put out a Clash album for six quid." They insisted on paying recording costs to prevent CBS from adding debts. "CBS finally agreed to the lowest price category with a free 12-inch single. We gave them 20 tracks; they freaked, so we said: 'Look, make it a fiver.' Against my expectations, they agreed to a double album. Our first real victory over CBS," says Strummer.

Exploring New Sounds and Ideas

The double album allowed lighter tracks like "Jimmy Jazz" and the misunderstood "Lover’s Rock" to sit alongside anthems like "Clampdown" and "Death or Glory." "It’s not just about the message, but how it’s said," Strummer muses. "A piece of nonsense can mean a lot—like ‘They all call me Speedo, but my real name is Mr. Earl.’ In this post-Dylan age, critics might call it tedious nonsense, but it’s brilliant."

He defends "Lover's Rock": "It’s based on The Tao of Love and Sex—the Chinese way. No one wants to talk about that, but it’s common. Boys turning into men get a great girl and mess it up. The song tries to tell you how to do it right. Also, it’s about enjoying yourself without her needing the pill, which can mess with girls. I don’t agree with the pill at all—but then you’ve got the Pope saying Catholics can’t take it. Strange world."

Learning from Past Mistakes

Reflecting on Give 'Em Enough Rope, Strummer admits, "It was a mistake of execution. Sandy Pearlman diminished our passion. Guy Stevens on London Calling was the opposite—he grabbed me by the throat, dealt with emotions, not knobs. If you capture that moment playing just right in front of a tape machine, you’ve got a million dollars. Guy understood that. Sandy was just a knob-twiddler—he’s forgotten it’s about soul."

Regarding the self-mythologizing of tracks like "Guns on the Roof" and "Last Gang in Town," Strummer shrugs: "That was just bat-piss. We like to gee ourselves up, but I never imagined we were the last gang. The title was just handy for newspaper headlines. Really, I was taking the piss out of gang violence. Back then, everyone was fighting—the teds, punks, rockabillies, zydeco kids. I invented a mythical gang to mock it all."

Moving On: No More Ranting for Ranting’s Sake

Ongoing spats with CBS? "Not the point anymore. Fighting record companies is a waste of time. Complete Control came from strong feelings at the time—but you move on," Strummer says.

As for the shelved Clash film: no comment. Political past? He sidesteps. "I like a pokey lyric—something barbed. Jealousy songs bore me unless it’s someone like Chrissie Hynde—her voice sweetens the pill. Otherwise, give me lyrics wrapped in barbed wire."

Strummer sums up: "We’re just trying to do the best we know how. You wake up, know there’s more to be done, and hope you won’t repeat mistakes. Keep your eyes open."

He adds, "I’m fed up with singing 'It’s a shitty situation' over and over. I hope we’re beyond that stage. Cold, grey, new-wave music? I wouldn’t play it to hamsters—it wouldn’t do them any good. Music should have swing and soul. Dogma’s one thing, but lifeless sounds don’t reach people. Sweeten the message so it slips into the unconscious. We play what we can now—no point ranting all the time. We’ve mastered time changes, new rhythms—why not use them?"

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27 April 1980

The Observer - UK Sunday newspaper, Joe Interv on 16 Tons Tour

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Page 16, 17
SOUNDS
December 27, 1980

SOMEBODY GOT MURDERED

Clash's Joe Strummer Nukes the Knockers

Interview by PETE SILVERT
Div by JILL FURMANOVSKY

Sell-Out Accusations and Early Days

"I'm sure that people who used to come and see us right at the start were shouting 'Sell out' when we put out the first album. People used to get hold of me in the World's End (a pub at the 'wrong' end of King's Road) when I was living down there. Fans of Adam and the Ants would go: 'You've sold out.' I'd say, 'Compared to who?' and they'd reply, 'Adam and the Ants, that's who. He stays down here and just plays that basement over there.' Now those very same people are going round saying: 'Adam and the what? Never 'eard of him.'"

Life at Ladbroke Grove

These days Joe Strummer shares a tiny, chaotic Ladbroke Grove flat with his girlfriend of three years, Gaby. It's a short-term let, and they have to move out in March. Last week, Abbey National turned him down for a mortgage; he wasn't considered a good enough risk.

They live in virtually one room. "It's cheaper heating one room than two," says Gaby. The walls are adorned with Xeroxed postcards of guns, images of Marilyn Monroe, and a large poster of Elvis Presley, looking coolly over his left shoulder. On the mantelpiece sits a Sandinista! card, more pictures of Monroe, and a glaring album sleeve: Dub Her Blouse And Skirt Vol.

The messy table holds half-empty containers of orange juice, grape juice, and Hellmann's Real Mayonnaise. Dominating the room is a powerful stereo system and a small portable TV. Currently spinning on the deck: Sly and Robbie in Dub, Gregory Isaacs, Hugh Mundell, and the Stray Cats.

Strummer is dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and red braces. He'd been in court that morning, picked up by the SPG on suspicion. They raided his flat and found three ounces of home-grown. "I did look a bit dodgy," he admits, "wide-brimmed trilby, leather jacket, and carrier bag—but nothing really eccentric like a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit."

He was lucky in court, escaping with a £100 fine. But his arresting officer left a chilling impression: "He had a tie with a strange motif. He said it was a striking cobra—the unofficial SPG tie—and joked about having a peach tree motif... it took me a moment to realise he was talking about Blair Peach." (Peach, a teacher, died at the hands of the SPG the previous year.)

Sandinista! Backlash

Whether they like it or not, The Clash are embroiled in a world resembling a battle zone rather than soap opera neuroses. Their new album, Sandinista!, has drawn accusations of exploiting others' pain for success. Ten days of sporadic listening left me torn: it sprawls, its ambitions outstripping its achievements. But they've tried—and some tracks, like "The Magnificent Seven," "Junco Partner," "Police On My Back," and "Somebody Got Murdered", rank among their best, albeit calmer.

"We've got a nerve," Joe grins. "Three LPs when Bruce Springsteen and The Damned struggle to make two? It's so un-'80s—more like something Chicago Transit Authority would do. CBS wanted to throw up when Mick suggested it."

Many feel Sandinista! falls short of the band's past standards. "Oh well," shrugs Joe. "When we brought out London Calling, I thought it got a unanimous thumbs-down. Now the same people say this ain't like London Calling. There's no dog-shit on Sandinista!—just a load of numbers. And about 'indulgence'—we're not saddling the listener; no royalties on the first 200,000 copies. It's better that it goes on for ages."

Political Undertones

Calling the album Sandinista! invites criticism of dilettantism. "Could be," Joe admits. "But if we don't, who will? No one's covering this ground. The Sandinistas coming to power was the best news I'd heard in years. Usually, it's tales of repression. Here, they beat Somoza out after his family ruled since 1919. First good news in ages." His source? The People's War, a book from the Nicaraguan Solidarity Campaign.

Some accuse the band of myth-making. "I need something to live on," Joe says. "It's optimistic—and these are pessimistic times. Everyone thinks we're doomed to get blown to bits."

War Imagery and Criticism

Is Mick Jones's battle helmet 'guerrilla chic'? "That's your interpretation," Joe counters. "He's wearing it under a King's Cross overpass—to say we'll all be wearing them soon. We spent ages making this album in helmets."

He compares today's Britain to a subtle war zone: "Violence ain't just physical. The way women are treated—that's violence. No one's strafing us with napalm, but it feels like war out there. Go to a gig: 'Ooo you lookin' at, John?'—never used to happen five years ago at the Feelgoods down the Marquee."

Personal Struggles and Band Dynamics

Taking on the world's cares weighs on him. "Yeah, I'm a sucker for that—but it's my choice. Reach for the moon. Even if you can't get there, better to try. I know you're supposed to know your limitations, but how do you until you push them? I've fallen in the mud loads of times."

Accused of 'professionalism,' Joe retorts, "I should bloody hope so. If you don't get better at something after a while, you're stupid. We always try to play what we couldn't before. I've sworn to really learn guitar—it’s usually all six strings or none."

American Influences and Track Breakdown

Is Sandinista! consciously American? "Some of it, yeah. The Magnificent Seven—American. Hitsville UK—English. Junco Partner—New Orleans. Ivan Meets GI Joe—English concern, with our American cruise missiles. The Leader and Something About England—definitely English."

What about Call Up referencing the American draft? "Sure, it's American—but soon come maybe. They've got it already."

Daily Life and Reflections

Gaby returns from her youth theatre job, scolding Joe for forgetting the laundry. Obedient, he heads out, and we pop into Dub Vendor—Joe browses; I buy Dennis Brown's Bloody City. "Look at that doorway—three feet of brick carved out. People out of work say they've nothing to do. They should be doing stuff like that."

Back at the flat, Joe picks up a pink cowboy bow-tie: "Had this for days—just got the courage to wear it." Gaby teases: "You look a right pansy."

Band Affairs and Future

Blackhill Management? "They handled our tours, but they were stretched—Ian Dury, Roy Harper, the Albertos... we withdrew gracefully."

Now Kosmo Vinyl helps out. "No formal deal—we just arse about. Pay him a wage... sometimes."

Joe’s doing all the interviews. Mick Jones? "He's in the States with Ellen Foley. She hung about here; it was a drag for her—didn't know anyone, and Mick was in the studio 23 hours a day."

Has Mick’s relationship caused friction? "Not at all. We’re not that childish anymore."

They're compiling a 101'ers tape. "Played a gig opening for Van der Graaf Generator—audience dead. Then Trouble, the dog, wandered onstage—they went bananas. I gave up. The tape’s great—fast, no sloppiness. Dunno what Van der Graaf's music is—Shakespeare crossed with Uriah Heep?"

Conclusion: Moving Forward

"People want the first album times ten. Can’t blame 'em—but we can't manage it. Mick said playing White Riot was bullshit. I thought, we’re fired up—play it anyway. If we feel wild, we play it; if not, we don’t."

Promoting the album is essential. "You've gotta get out there. Selling ain’t shameful—we employ people, gotta pay their wages. Staying the same? I’m 28 now—maybe younger folks can do the 'nyyyyaaah' thing better. People say I’m cool but Mick ain’t? They can fuck off. I’m not a guy with a fringe, staring into his soul. Could never grow one—just doesn’t grow like that."

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History of Rock 1980

includes Clash snippets only

Searchable PDF

November 1980

Record Collector - One of the most collectable New Wave bands

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THE CLASH

ONE OF THE MOST COLLECTABLE NEW WAVE BANDS

By Dominic Prince

Photo: The Clash on stage. Left to right: Paul Simonon, Joe Strummer and Mick Jones.

COLLECTABILITY AND NEW WAVE

New Wave remains a challenging area for collectors as it’s uncertain which artists will become valuable and which will fade. Bands selling records now aren’t necessarily those whose discs will be collectable in the future. For example, the Tremeloes and the Bachelors sold millions in the Sixties, but their records now sell for only a few pence. Similarly, while the Boomtown Rats were once huge, they may only become collectable later.

Typically, artists who maintain a long-term following become the most collectable. Among today’s New Wave stars, prime candidates include Elvis Costello, The Jam, The Police, and The Clash, who have expanded their audience without losing their core fans.

EARLY DAYS AND REHEARSALS

The Clash began playing together in a squat in Shepherd’s Bush, London, in May 1976. Without a drummer, the initial line-up featured Paul Simonon, a London art-school dropout who had been playing bass for just six weeks, Mick Jones, another ex-art-school student on guitar, and Joe Strummer, formerly of the 101’ers, who had released a single, "Keys To Your Heart", on Chiswick Records. Despite disliking Strummer’s former band, Jones and Simonon invited him to join.

Within days, Keith Levene (later of Public Image Ltd) joined as second guitarist but soon left to form the Flowers of Romance with Sid Vicious and future members of The Slits. In August 1976, after multiple auditions, Terry Chimes became the drummer. By then, rehearsals had moved to a disused warehouse in Camden Town. Though capable of live performances, few London clubs welcomed punk bands. With Bernie Rhodes as manager, the band secured local gigs.

SIGNING WITH CBS AND DEBUT RELEASES

Despite punk’s anti-establishment ethos, The Clash signed with CBS, defending the move as a way to reach a wider audience. Their debut single, "White Riot" (b/w "1977"), released on March 18, 1977, became a punk anthem, charting despite minimal radio play. Less than a month later, their self-titled album, "The Clash", reached No. 12. New Musical Express (NME) offered 10,000 albums with a red "NME offer" sticker, redeemable for a free single featuring "Capital Radio" and an interview. With only half claimed, originals now fetch over £40 in mint condition, while counterfeits circulate at £8–£15.

LINE-UP CHANGES AND TOURING

During the album’s release, Terry Chimes departed—credited on the album as "Tory Crimes"—due to disputes and on-stage hostility. After 206 auditions, Nicky "Topper" Headon joined as drummer.

In May 1977, against the band’s wishes, CBS released "Remote Control" (b/w a live version of "London's Burning"), which failed to chart but remained popular. Notably, top Jamaican producer Lee "Scratch" Perry praised their cover of "Police and Thieves" and produced their next single, "Complete Control", a critique of CBS’s interference. Released in September 1977, it reached No. 28.

That year, The Clash toured the UK with Richard Hell and the Voidoids and the Lou’s, focusing on standing-room venues to avoid repair costs. They also faced arrests for minor vandalism and shooting pigeons from their rehearsal roof, inspiring "Guns On The Roof" on their second album.

BREAKTHROUGH AND AMERICAN TOUR

Launching the "Clash Out On Parole" tour with support from emerging acts like The Specials, the band released "White Man In Hammersmith Palais"/"The Prisoner", later voted "Best Single of the Year" in several polls. Collaborating with producer Sandy Pearlman for their second album, "Give 'Em Enough Rope", they added tour-recorded guitar solos. Released in November 1978, the single "Tommy Gun" became their biggest hit to date, followed by the album peaking at No. 2, though some fans criticised its heavier production.

Following a UK tour, they parted with manager Bernie Rhodes and, in February 1979, embarked on their first US visit, the "Pearl Harbour Tour". Playing major North American cities with Bo Diddley at select dates, they gained critical acclaim despite limited American radio play compared to peers like Elvis Costello, The Police, and Joe Jackson.

RUDE BOY FILM AND EP RELEASE

On their return to England, The Clash began work on the film "Rude Boy", which was a small success when it was released in early 1980 with much stage footage of the band. They released an EP on General Election Day, May 11th 1979, entitled "The Cost Of Living". The EP came in a fold-out cover with a special inner sleeve and featured a new version of "Capital Radio". It reached No. 22 in the charts, probably due to the inclusion of their long-time stage favourite, Bobby Fuller's "I Fought The Law". A single combining "I Fought The Law" and "Hammersmith Palais" was released in the U.S.A. and gained a surprising amount of airplay, which held them in good stead for their next American tour later in the year.

Before that, they played a Rock Against Racism benefit gig at London's Rainbow Theatre with Pete Townshend, The Members, and The Pop Group; and began recording sessions for their next album with legendary producer Guy Stevens, known for producing high-energy rock and roll records.

"LONDON CALLING" AND AMERICAN TOUR

After their American tour (named "The Clash Take The Fifth"), when the band were joined by 'fifth member' Micky Gallagher, keyboards player with Ian Dury's Blockheads, they began remixing the album. The tentative title of "The New Testament" was abandoned after someone pointed out how pretentious it would sound, and the album was named after one of the songs, "London Calling". It was finally released at Christmas 1979, with two albums in a single sleeve selling for the price of one, and again was a big chart success.

Many punks disliked the album, saying that The Clash had "sold out" and drew comparisons between the band and The Rolling Stones, whom The Clash disliked for their superstar status. Others, however, saw the album as a welcome progression, a sign that the band would be able to move beyond the essentially limiting sound of 'pure' punk. The band defended themselves by saying they had never intended to stick solely to punk and that many of their fans were just as stuck in their ways "as the people they were supposed to replace".

UNOBTAINABLE RELEASES AND COLLECTABILITY

The title track of the album was pulled from it to become a big hit single, issued both in 7" and 12" form. The 12" version included an otherwise unobtainable long take of "Armagideon Time". More recently, a British tour with The Joe Ely Band and Mikey Dread led to the release of another single, "Bank Robber"/"Rockers Galore". Its release was delayed, with varying reports citing reluctance from both the band and CBS. During the delay, large quantities of the German import single were brought into Britain, containing the two British single tracks plus "Train In Vain", which appears unannounced on the final side of the "London Calling" album.

Recording sessions for another two-for-the-price-of-one album are underway at the moment, and despite constant rumours of arguments within The Clash camp, the commercial future for the band seems very bright. Joe Strummer has recently been producing The Little Roosters, and although he is given to remarks like "I don't believe we've done any good at all," he still appears to be the motivating creative force behind the band.

COLLECTOR MARKET INSIGHTS

As far as New Wave collectors are concerned, this is a good time to start getting hold of The Clash's records, as all their singles and LPs are still available at the moment, though some early singles are likely to be deleted shortly. It is believed that the singles rather than the albums will become collectable, as almost all have been issued in picture covers or special sleeves that are already fetching money. European and Japanese picture sleeve singles, many including lyric sheets, are selling for around £3—the same price now asked for early British singles in special sleeves, although most can still be found at normal retail prices.

Every Clash single to date has contained at least one track not available on a British album. Singles like "Clash City Rockers", "Complete Control", "White Man In Hammersmith Palais", and "Bank Robber", besides the EP, contain no otherwise available tracks. The free "Capital Radio" single, issued in a limited quantity, will maintain its value as long as collectors are interested. Another single sure to increase in price is the 12" "London Calling"; reports indicate dealers already selling it for £8, and even £12, despite it still officially retailing at around £2. Supplies, however, are getting short.

CONFUSION OVER RELEASES

There is some confusion over the "Cost Of Living" EP. The label's catalogue number is CBS 7324, while the sleeve shows 12-7324, leading some catalogues to list it as an official 12" single. To our knowledge—though further information is welcome—only promo copies were issued in 12" form, selling for between £12 and £15. Promo items are popular with Clash collectors, with various 7", 10", and 12" discs circulating, many from the U.S.A. A 7" promo of "Gates Of The West" fetches around $5 in Mint condition, while 10" promos of "Working For The Clampdown" and "Train In Vain" from "London Calling" have been offered for £15. Almost all come in plain white sleeves with simple labels, making them easy to counterfeit. With the market flooded, proving authenticity is essential, as genuine items retain value.

Before paying inflated prices for official British Clash releases, it is worth checking if the record and picture sleeve are still available from CBS. While no one can predict if The Clash will remain collectable, fans should seek out those picture sleeve singles before prices rise.

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Paul Du Noyer | Music Book Author | NME Journalist

Joe Strummer The Clash Interview reflecting on 1980

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Joe Strummer The Clash Interview

https://www.pauldunoyer.com/joe-strummer-the-clash-interview/

This interview took place over three or four days in December 1980. I was a staff writer on the NME, and each day Joe would call into our Carnaby Street office and take me round the pubs and Italian cafes of Soho. (We had to call off one session, having awoken on 9 December to overnight news reports of John Lennon’s death.) It was the cover story of NME’s issue dated 3 January 1981. The photos of Joe were taken by the great Pennie Smith.

It was just me, Joe Strummer… and the King of Corsica. We bought a few beers and pulled up some chairs. But it wasn’t hard to see that Joe was uneasy, that he had something on his mind.

Trouble was, the King was full – the way that Soho pubs always are at that time of day – and Joe had to take a seat with his back to the door. And that was making him uncomfortable.

He says this is how they got Wyatt Earp in the end. The day the townsfolk told him to relax, he’d cleared the last gunman out of town, Earp took a drink in the saloon, back to the door. He never did finish that drink.

Well, the guns might not be out for The Clash, even if the reviewers have been using ‘Sandinista!’ for target practice. But according to Joe, “there’s a lot of people would like to see us take a dive.” Scorned by diehard punks for some supposed betrayal of the true faith, and sneered at by others for following a rock’n’roll stereotype – attacked for changing too much and changing too little – small wonder Strummer feels beset by negativity. It gets him down. But he’ll fight back.

“We might not be so ‘hip’ and mean so much to all this ‘push back the frontiers of modern music’ scene – but on a world-wide scale we’ve fucking done a lot, and given hope to a lot of people. I live here. And I walk these streets, and I’m not gonna get pushed out of town. I was thinking about going to live in Birmingham, or Australia, all these crazy ideas. But I thought, ‘Shit, I’ve always walked these streets, so why the fuck should I stop now?’ I’ve only wrote the best songs I could…”

Say what you like about The Clash’s fourth album – it’s a complex, sprawling affair and we’ve all got our opinions as to how much and which parts really succeed – one fact remains clear. Joe Strummer is still one of the most valuable characters around. He speaks with warmth and candour, as honest and clear-sighted a spokesman as we’re likely to get. So before you clamber aboard that anti-Clash bandwagon, listen in to the things he’s got to say.

Over the King of Corsica’s lunchtime noises, we begin the conversation with a brief retrospective.

What kind of 1980 was it for The Clash?

Really tough, actually. I remember at the beginning of 1980 we planned to have some fun with singles, a Clash Singles Bonanza, fire them off like rockets all through the year. And then we ran into that ‘Bankrobber’ business. When we passed them [CBS] the tape they said “We’re not putting it out,” so we shut down communications in a fit of pique, and that dragged on for the whole year. So there goes the Singles Bonanza.

We’ve had a tough time touring as well. I’ve been attacked by a mob this year, suffered at the hands of a mob.

Kids pissed off by ‘London Calling’?

Yeah, that’s right. In Berlin, there’s some German skinheads and they were saying “Oh, my grandmother likes The Clash.” Understandably, they were pissed off about that. But in Hamburg these kids attacked us, going “You’ve sold out, you’ve sold out.” But I figured that they hadn’t come to that conclusion, it was rather a trendy supposition that they thought “Oh, we’ll follow that.” I don’t think they worked it out using their own brains.

A tough year. I mean, it’s changed my mind a lot. That Hamburg thing was kind of a watershed, y’know?

You were physically attacked?

Oh yeah, for sure. It was like nothing you’ve ever seen. They were all down the front, and if they could grab hold of a microphone lead they’d pull, and it was a tug o’war. And then it started getting really violent – and that was my fault in a way. How much can a man take, y’know? I was playing and I saw this guy, sort of using the guy in front of him as a punch-bag, trying to be all tough. So I rapped him on the head with a Telecaster, I just lost my temper. And there was blood gushing down in front of his face. It wasn’t much of a cut, but it looked real horrorshow. And the howl out of the audience – you shoulda heard it. From then on it was jump in and punch.

After that, after I’d been taken down the cop station and charged with assaulting a German citizen by striking him over the head with a guitar, I began to think that I’d overstepped my mark. And that’s what I mean by it was a watershed – violence had really controlled me for once. I became very frightened that violence had really taken me over. So since then I’ve decided the only way you can fight aggro in the audience is to play a really boring song.

Also, we kind of made a few decisions this year. Like, we’ve been going on loads of tours and we just can’t do it any more. I don’t mind about the physical stress and strain. But financially it makes no sense. We’re gonna have to work something else out.

Is 1981 going to be any better?

Yeah, I’m resolved to enjoy it more. I feel that groups like Madness enjoy what they’ve achieved. And we’re not allowed to do that, in the amount of flak we receive. Like, a gang of punks that I see in the street, they’re more likely to jeer than say ‘Hi’. I’m gonna try and enjoy it more. I mean, what the hell, we work really hard.

Why do you think those kids are hostile to you?

Obviously they just turn on to the sound, and they wanna hear, y’know, DA-DA-DA, that burst of energy. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but there’s plenty of groups doing it. And that’s what I always say to them: Well, you’ve got the Upstarts doing it, lots of groups. I mean, The Ramones probably don’t get people coming up to them and saying “You’ve sold out”, right? But I wouldn’t listen a Ramones album unless you tied me to a chair.

Tell us about your new stuff, ‘Sandinista!’.

We’ve carried straight on. We’ve done what the hell we’ve wanted to do. I mean, there’s no ‘musical direction’, y’know? People in America, they go [mimics earnest interviewer] “What musical direction?”. And I always think, Can’t they see we’re just a bunch of idiots who’ll do whatever we wanna do?

‘London Calling’ went in about five musical directions.

Yeah well this time we’ve probably gone in about 36 different directions. We’ve tried things we weren’t sure we could do.

Why so many songs?

Well we sat down, right, and after a while it became apparent that we were beginning to sit on a pile of tracks. So we thought, let’s see how far we can push ’em – CBS that is – as far as price goes. Originally we were intending to make just the usual double, and we weren’t bothered about counting the tracks. And then we found it was gonna be a jam fitting them all on a treble, a tight fit. So we decided to go treble.

And I remember thinking, Is this some kind of bloated arrogance? I could imagine some US group doing it, Styx or Foreigner, all them overblown outfits. But then I figured that if we could get it for the same price as one, then fucking more power to us.

But it only counts as one to CBS, your commitment to them?

Yeah, that’s the trouble with having it at a single price… Basically, after we’d recorded all this we had to decide, Are we gonna take them to court, or are we gonna put a record out? And it’s really hard when you’ve put your life and soul on to a bit of tape to think it’s gonna stick on the shelf for another year, and when it comes out it won’t be worth nothing because times have changed – especially in the nature of the lyrics. I’m not writing moon-in-June stuff that’ll sound the same in 50 years.

Why that title, ‘Sandinista!’?

I was singing this song ‘Washington Bullets’ and I didn’t have ‘Sandinista’ written down, and I got to a verse about Nicaragua. I just came out with it, I just shouted it out. And when I got out of the vocal booth Mick said “That’s the name of the album” and I started thinking about it. I only found out about the Sandinistas through a friend of mine in San Francisco sending me literature – I’d never read it in the daily rag – so we figured we might as well use that space, it’d be printed everywhere. You could have some hip phrase like ‘My Hair Is Backward”, y’know what I mean, but I feel it’s more use like this. It’s something to find out about.

Are people going to like the album?

I don’t think your average punk rock fan should bother to buy it, not if he wants sort of amphetamine rock. Maybe he should get the others, the new Subs or Rejects LP would be a better buy if he wants amphetamine rock. It’s music, y’know?… The music’s gotta change. I wish people would understand that more, and allow for it.

[More about that in a while. Talk turns to the independent companies, and Joe’s belief that they represent the future…]

… Well I mean, I speak as one on the end of a spear, a giant corporate spear, y’know? I’m being roasted in the flames. There wouldn’t have been any blues records if it hadn’t been for independents in the America in the ’20s. And I think that’s what happening today. Like, look at CBS. I mean, we’re a walking disaster once we get near them anyway. They don’t deserve to do better. They go out for lunch, they have meals that you or I would probably freak out of we saw them on our table. Seriously!

These independents, the good ones, they’re the ones who are really in touch. I hope the majors just die away. I think it would be amusing if CBS moved into the place just vacated by Rough Trade.

What would you say, then, to a young group who are offered a major deal?

I’d say don’t take an advance. A lot of groups know this already, cos they’re smart. But we weren’t so smart when we started out. I know it now though, through bitter experience. If you wanna take a contract, great. But make sure they ain’t gonna tell you what to do, they ain’t gonna give you a producer you don’t want, they ain’t gonna hype or hang around the studios, all this bullshit that goes on, they ain’t gonna tell you what to wear. We’ve never had any of that.

But as for the advance, don’t take it, because it seems like easy money at the time, but you just spend the whole thing on touring, gear, studio. And it ain’t money for nothing cos you owe it to them. You dig yourself into a hole. It takes a lot of guts to dig yourself out.

I’d also like to say to anybody signing a contract with CBS, we walked into this trap that we can’t get out. They’ve got this trap, it works like this: this is the contract [picks up a newspaper] with this many pages, right? And here it says “This is three years plus two years company’s option.” And you think, “Five years, it’s a long time, but I can make it.” Back here, on this page, it says, “If at any time the company decide to call on seven extra LPs blah blah, they can.” So you think you’re signing a five-year contract, and it turns out you’re in there for fucking ten LPs.

That might explain why so many groups split up. I mean, we were really tempted, I tell ya. We looked at each other and said, “How far are we prepared to take this? Are we prepared to destroy the group?” And we just couldn’t do it, but we were really thinking seriously. Me and Mick Jones, we were really at the end of our tether.

So, is there life after CBS?

Well [laughs], I can’t answer that. It’s so far in the future I don’t know if we’re gonna be here still. We have talked about this of course. I wouldn’t want to be involved in a big bullshit scene like Apple, where they said “Right, we’re gonna start our company and we’re gonna help new talent and it’s gonna be wonderful” and of course it all turns out to be a load of freeloaders.

Y’know, I’ve got a mate who was fucked up by Apple, a bloke called Tymon Dogg, he sings a number on ‘Sandinista!’ [‘Lose This Skin’]. He was, like, the one they signed and couldn’t do anything with. Paul McCartney wrote him this song and it went [mimics prissy pianist doing inane ditty]: “Good golly Miss Pringle / You make me go jingle” – and this is like, one of the heaviest songwriters I ever met!

But CBS – I just think it’s really criminal. They’re a business, a giant corporation. They’re protected by the courts of law, they’ve got sixty lawyers. And yet they stoop to a trick like that and that’s how they run their business. Like, if I was to get one in here and go “Don’t you think that’s a bit nasty?” [the word Joe actually used was “cunt-ish”, subbed out due to NME policy at that time] they’d go “No, I don’t see anything wrong.” They’re just… And then society moans about how people go cat-burglaring and shoplifting, and yet this is the protected code of business. It’s such hypocrisy.

[Conversation wanders from businessmen to Bernie Rhodes, “ex Clash manager”, to Johnny Rotten and PiL’s live album.]

Huh, a live album. It’s just a joke. I don’t mind that they go on about “Rock’n’roll is dead and it’s gotta be killed off”; that’s just a load of words, what does it actually mean? Does it mean that I’m not allowed to write a song or what? Julie Burchill too is really into this “stab the dinosaur”. It’s all so boring.

We’ve always resisted the idea of a live album. I mean, don’t you think that CBS have been on to us? In fact we’ve turned up at a gig and there’d be a mobile parked outside the gig. And all the gear would be miked up by the time we hit the venue for the soundtrack in the afternoon, and we come in and we go “What’s all this about?” “Oh, CBS’d just like to get a live” and we’d just say “Get the mikes outta here, get that truck outta here.” We’ve just refused to have anything to do with it.

You know that thing we were saying about PiL and Burchill; “Rock’n’roll’s got to die” – I agree if they mean overblown masturbation on stage, passé drivel. But they never define their terms. Don’t they earn their living from the rock-buying public? They do.

That aside, PiL are moving away from rock as it’s sounded for years.

PiL sounds to me like Uriah Heep on Mandrax, that’s the first thing I said when I heard them. But I’m no bloody expert on their music. Levene’s a brilliant guitar player. He pretends he doesn’t know any of them rock’n’roll solos but he does. I know, I’ve seen him play ’em.

Music’s gotta change, though. Cos who wants punk to be like heavy metal? There’s no difference, and who’d have thought that would ever come to pass?

Are The Clash innovative, musically?

Musically? I think we’re learning to be, yeah. We’re not afraid to play around. What we’re doing now is experimenting. But I’ll only put on a record if it’s worth listening to. I hate music that’s so concerned with being ‘new’ that it forgets to have any soul, y’know? We experiment, but with those limitations: it’s gotta be worth listening to.

I’m sure a lot of groups don’t bother to apply that. They want to be smarty-pantsy and they don’t think what fucking use it is to a stoker in Aberdeen, is it going to make HIM feel better, or what?

But innovative… we are in some ways. Like we were one of the first groups that dared play reggae. We’ve really fused some stuff. We are interested in mixing it up. I’ve gotta say that hearing stuff like ‘Banana Republic’ from The Boomtown Rats – it just makes me feel ashamed. And hearing ‘The Tide Is High’ [by Blondie] – those two make me ashamed about white reggae, make me wanna puke.

Of course, the other innovation is politics.

Yeah, and on that score we’re getting a lot more political in our old age. As I get older my politics are clarifying themselves, becoming more pointed. More potent…

My politics are definitely left of centre. Yet I believe in self-determination. I don’t believe in Soviet Russia at all, because there’s hardly any choice. You’ve still got a ruling class riding around in big cars. Our bass player went to Moscow to see for himself and he said that people walk around like this [heads down]. Tourists and party members have special shops, but your normal Joe Russian isn’t even allowed in the bloody shop, never mind that he’s got no dough to spend in them. And where’s that at?

I believe in socialism because it seems more humanitarian, rather than every man for himself and I’m all right and Jack and all those arsehole businessmen with all the loot. But you can’t bring socialism in with orders. I mean, look at the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. They just massacred and butchered the whole country to make them to do what they were told. That’s ten times worse than the shit we’ve got going on here.

When I left art school, I took a dive: no future, no skill, nothing. So I just laboured and doled, fucked off around the place. Took a job when I was really skint, if I could get one, got fired every time for late timekeeping. The usual.

And I made up my mind from viewing society from that angle. That’s where I’mfrom and that’s where I’ve made my decisions from. That’s why I believe in socialism. When I was on my uppers, every door was slammed in my face. Once I asked a lady outside a sweetshop to buy me a bar of chocolate. I’d been hitching all day and I was really hungry. I just thought I’d turn around and try society on. And this lady came along and I said, “Would you give me the rest of the money for this bar of chocolate?” And she just said “No, why should I?” Things like that annoyed me.

D’you want a drink?

Nah, let me get it. I’m supposed to be the big pop star around here.

II.
I really think that we’ve got to devise a plan for this country. I’m not interested in the others, really. I mean, we put out records world wide, but “home is where the heart is,” it’s really true. We spent a month in New York, recording in Jimi Hendrix’s studios, and when we got back the sun was shining on Leicester Square, y’know? It felt great to be back, just to stand there.

We’ve gotta devise some sort of plan. Cos all these groups like the BM [the far right British Movement], they’re using patriotism to recruit. And that’s my number one guideline: if anyone gives me a patriotic pitch I know he’s an arsehole,I know he’s a rip-off merchant, I know he’s trying to have one over on me.

“Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.”

It’s true! It really is!

And yet there’s something genuine there too.

Mmm. I’ve only been able to detect it in myself in the last couple of years. Whereas before, I’d been shat on by the system, as it were, and seen it from the underside – any patriotism at all made me wanna throw up. As far as I saw it, we’re all earthlings – not English or French. And if we ever discover a new civilisation, that’s gonna get more in perspective. I mean, think of us all on this planet, fighting and shooting each other. You crack up thinking about it. That’s how I used to think. I still do, mind, but I do feel patriotic, y’know, when England does something good. But what about Northern Ireland, how can you feel patriotic with all that going on? We gotta sort something out.

It’s complex, but with The Clash you’re accused of just sloganising problems – maybe you can’t do anything else in a two-minute rock song?

I think that criticism belongs to someone else, perhaps Tom Robinson in his early days, or groups who followed our line, tried to crash in our territory. Cos I always understood that you had to be personally involved. Or, you have to feel for something before you can write about it. If you really feel for something then you don’t write slogans, you write truths. You’re really on the ball. Obviously in a rock song the situation’s gotta be simplified down from, say, a grand scale debate, when you can take into account all of the nuances. But I just don’t see why subject matter has to be so bloody bland…

But, y’know, I’m getting more political as I get older. And I think there’s gotta be a plan, and a party. I mean, I’ve always hated parties because I don’t believe in toeing the party line. But there must be some way that we can get ourselves together here, not let Thatcher walk all over us. Like, Foot’s going on about unilateral disarmament – and what the fuck have we got to lose by disarming? As soon as they start the argy-bargy Russia’s gonna dump missiles on us straight away anyway, I think Britain should show the way now. Kick Thatcher out. Get Foot or Benn in. Disarm.

Everybody’s taken it for granted these days about doomsday. And all these fuckers getting bunkers together. I mean, big deal.

I’m getting kinda religious and all. I really don’t believe that we just get born and die and that’s your one shot and that’s it. I really feel that we’re individual spirits and souls.

What? But religion is usually the point where people get off being concerned about social matters, the here-and-now world.

But I’m not talking about ‘born again’ and ‘saved’. All I know is that we gotta clear this mess up, here and now, by physical action. And I also know, I don’t ‘think’, I know that when we die we go on. There’s a difference between saying “I’m born again, Jesus is here to save me, and that’s all I’m gonna talk about for ever more. Amen.” Bollocks! That ain’t the case. I’m interested in every bloody thing, like how much people work for and why they should bloody bother, and who the fuck’s getting the profits, y’know? I’m into Karl Marx, really heavily…

[Joe runs quickly and accurately through Marx’s Theory of Surplus Value.]

But there’s no education going on in Britain at the moment. I mean, when I was at school, I hated the entire thing, the boring way they put it over. And yet nowadays, now I’m 28, I find myself vitally interested in going to buy books they were trying to give us at school, but they just didn’t put it right. There’s something basically wrong somewhere.

We’ve got to educate the young, otherwise they’ll just grow up with all this shit and see no way out. Then it just takes the fucking BM to come along and go “Blame it all on the blacks” and in fact it’s not the blacks, it’s the rich white people that are to blame, the white fat cats. The Stock Exchange and Wall Street. And yet, what does that skinhead from East Ham know about the Stock Exchange? And yet that’s what’s killing him off, and he doesn’t know anything about it.

[And now… the dreaded Clashbag. A collection of questions, posed by anonymous members of the NME team, hastily scrawled and thrown into a plain brown envelope, to be drawn at random by the man himself. Starting with …]

Are you any nearer opening the club you’ve been talking about for three years?

That’s easy to answer – No [laughs]. We did have a place sussed out, the Lucky Seven, bu the landlord wanted to turn it into a snooker hall, and when it came to fighting them over that, we really couldn’t beat their aces, because a snooker hall makes no noise – the clink of balls – and we were proposing mayhem. It was no contest really… I dunno, perhaps I haven’t got the clout I thought I had. Perhaps you need a ring of businessmen who can beat them at their own game.

What should unemployed kids be doing with their time?

I found my life was a drag until I linked up with other people by forming a group. Our life was full from the moment we decided to do something. Whereas before we’d just been lying around Squat City. And I’d say if anyone was unemployed and bored out of their minds they should sit down and figure out what they think’d be great, then go out and try make it happen – cos there’s plenty of other people out there.

To connect with other people and communicate with them, that’s when things really happen and are really exciting. Like the beginning of punk, the whole place seemed to be crawling with people who had some idea of what they wanted to do. It’s too easy just to throw years of your life away.

When I was younger I thought time was eternal, but growing up I began to know how long a year is, and it ain’t that long.

What can bands and audiences do about the British Movement threat?

Well, speaking for the bands I’d say a very practical way they can help is by being very careful what they write isn’t misconstrued. Like, some people write a song slagging off the NF [the National Front, another far right party] and they write it from the stance of “I’m a Nazi and I’m a bloody idiot”, but sometimes people don’t quite get the subtleties and that’s dangerous – I know I’ve done it.

And as for audiences, being British we have this thing where you leave people alone, that cool behaviour, not like Italians. And I think audiences have got to shake themselves out of it. An audience of 2,000 people will cheerfully let 30 people ruin the show. They don’t want to get involved. But they’re gonna have to get involved.

Favourite bands?

I saw The Stray Cats just the other week, and they were really great. Just three guys playing their hearts out, no hype about it. I think ‘Runaway Boys’ is a great record – perhaps it even tops ‘Ace Of Spades’! But apart from Stray Cats and Motorhead [laughs]… At the moment I’m really into Gregory Isaacs, great voice. So many of those reggae guys can really sing. We all shout over here, and they sing.

What painters/art movements have influenced The Clash?

Paul Simonon’s our resident artist, he left art school the last. I used to enjoy pop art. They had a great exhibition about ten years ago at the Hayward Gallery, and that was mind-boggling. Paul though, he’s obviously into Jackson Pollock. He’s really into customising his bass. He’ll unscrew his scratchplate and lay it on the floor; he kinda walks around it for an hour, and then he just goes flick with a bit of blue, and then another hour, and then flick with a bit of red – he’s an artist.

The Clash: What went wrong/what went right?

What went wrong was we didn’t realise exactly what the structure of the business was. And what went right was that we could handle that, and not give in.

Many things went wrong in the early days. Like that day we turned up for rehearsals and Terry Chimes said he was leaving. I could have hit him over the head with a spade…

And then we fell out with Bernie [Rhodes]. Bernie lost control of us. His scene was not to give us any money in case it ruined us, which is the way you deal with kids – which he thought we were. But he underestimated us. Like people say Bernie wrote our songs, but that’s not true at all. All he said was, “Don’t write love songs, write something that you care about, that’s real.” And it’s a pity we fell out with him cos we made a good team.

But he got really funny when The Clash all started to happen. We wouldn’t see him from week to week. If he wanted to communicate he’d just send a minion – inferring he was too busy elsewhere to deal with us.

You know ‘Complete Control’ which Mick wrote about the record company, in fact we got the phrase off Bernie one night in that pub in Wardour Street, The Ship. I remember him going – he’d obviously been talking to Malcolm and was trying to be the master puppeteer – going “Look, I want complete control, I want complete control.’ And we were just laughing at him.

But what went right was that we didn’t explode, or implode. It was desperately hip at one point, when the Pistols jacked it in, everyone was going, “Of course they did, man. That’s the ultimate end to the ultimate group.” And I was thinking, that’s just a cop-out.

What happened to the TV show you were planning to launch?

I haven’t found anyone who’s interested. I think The Clash exist very much outside the society of this town – I mean the people who run the TV, even the music industry. We’re really outside of it, no communication with anybody. Like, things happen, and I read about it afterwards. When they have a big bash and it says “Anybody who was anybody was there”, I find out about it when I buy the paper the following week! And I think that’s pretty good for us, it helps us appreciate the realities of the situation rather than be lulled into any false sense of ‘everything’s cool, man, let’s have a party.’ I’m glad we’re outsiders in that respect. But this is where it falls down, whenever it comes to getting anything together, getting a businessman to take you seriously. It’s very difficult.

And you won’t do Top Of The Pops.

There’s this farce that’s been going on for ten years, where they take the group into the studios to re-record the backing track for TOTP, they take the BBC engineer down to the pub for a drink, meanwhile they swop the tapes with the original tapes of the single, and they throw away what they just pretended to record. I mean, this goes on in 12 studios in London every week, the same charade is played out – which we haven’t had to go through not having been on the show, nor ever going to be either.

Last question: how have The Clash stayed together when everyone else splits up?

Hooray! Something good, something I can boast about! It’s not often you get a question like that. I feel a warm glow all over me. I really do. It’s like I was saying: walking out is a cop-out. And that’s the way we’ve always thought, and that’s why we haven’t done it. It gets rough a lot of the time, but we’ve just been really open with each other. And we know that to say bollocks and storm off is a cop-out. We’ve often felt like it.

And perhaps there’s another reason. I know this helps. Sometimes you think “That’s it! That’s the last straw! I never wanna hear the word Clash again.” Then you go home and you think “Hang on a minute. We’re not gonna leave it to The Jam, are we? I know The Jam aren’t the be-all and end-all, and I’m gonna stick around to prove it.

III.
Thrown out the pub at closing time we make our way to an Italian café on the edge of Soho. Pessimistically, Joe ponders the commercial rewards of a life in show business. The Clash’s stance on record prices – such as insisting that the triple album be sold for the price of a single album – is not shared by their record company. Accordingly, the financial sacrifice involved falls largely on the group. When they sell 200,001 copies of ‘Sandinista!’ in Britain, then their total royalties will amount to 30 pence. Publishing royalties will also be payable on the basis of a single album. Recently Joe was refused a mortgage.

Nor have the LP’s prospects been greatly helped, he feels, by its December release date – just in time to get buried by the Christmas rush. “There’s only two categories of people that put records out in December,” he says, stirring and staring into a cup of cappuccino. “That’s lunatics – and superstars.”

And which category are you lot, then?

Joe laughs quietly. “The first,” he replies. “Definitely the first.”

HEREHERE

Interview

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The Clash, Girlschool, top 10, punk violence, 'Punk in London' video release

HEREHERE

6 THE DAILY MAIL, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1980

CLASH PHOTO from Bridlington

THE CLASH, relaxed and hardly a drop of sweat between them, but this exclusive Mail Beat picture by Ray Brunning immediately after the band's concert at Bridlington, belies the frenetic energy they exuded on stage for more than

They are (left to right): Joe Strummer, Mick Jones and Paul Simonon with Topper Headon (seated).an hour.

OUR OPINION - CUT THE VIOLENCE

WHY, oh why, does punk incite such moronic violence?

Splitting heads, kicking, gouging and punching in the name of music is nothing short of pathetic and displays a total inability to behave like human beings.

It not only spoils the concert for genuine fans, but it also puts venues at risk.

The sickness — and that is what it is — was recently crudely turned in our faces by a mindless minority at a concert in Hull.

In the main, it is always a hard-core minority responsible for reacting to the incitement of punk bands.

But be warned — if it happens too often, venues will not stage any more gigs. And one promoter has already taken steps and banned a major concert last month in Hull. More might follow.

Punk film tests for reaction

Punk in Lonon video

An EXPERIMENTAL showing of a music documentary is going ahead at Hull Film Theatre on March 18.

If "Punk in London" gets good support, then enterprising producer Carl Gilliard says the theatre will feature more contemporary music-orientated films in coming seasons.

That does not mean a glut of punk films. But it might herald documentaries about rock, pop, blues and new wave to the big screen.

It is not the same as a live concert, but it is an interesting chance to see and hear the superstars who might not otherwise turn up in Hull.

"Punk in London", which has no certificate, was made by a West German director in 1977 and features a dozen bands, including Sex Pistols, Boomtown Rats, The Stranglers, and The Jam.

TO MEMBERS

It is worth noting that the 92-minute documentary is open only to members because it lacks a certificate.

Because the usual patrons will probably not queue out for "Punk in London", Mrs. Gill was anxious to stress that a 15-50 membership is now open.

There is also a special £1.50 members’ admission to punk followers who join for this movie only.

It may turn out to be a promising venture — punk might become a useful music alternative in Hull.

Girlschool

IF THE four members of Girischool play as aggressively as they look, they should do well at Hull City Hall tomorrow night when they support Uriah Heep. All-female rock bands are rare, so it should be interesting to see how the quartet from South London, formed two years ago, makes out. They are (left to right): Denise Dufont, Kim McAulisse, Enid Williams, Kelly Johnson.

Top Ten SINGLES

1 (2) "Too Much Too Young" – The Specials (Two Tone)
2 (1) "Coward of the County" – Kenny Rogers (United Artists)
3 (7) "It's Different for Girls" – Joe Jackson (A and M)
4 (4) "I'm in the Mood for Dancing" – The Nolan Sisters (CBS)
5 (6) "7 Teen" – The Regents (RCA)
6 (10) "I Hear You Now" – Jon and Vangelis (Polydor)
7 (5) "My Girl" – Madness (Stiff)
8 (11) "Brass in Pocket" – The Pretenders (Real)
9 (3) "Living by Numbers" – New Musik (GTO)
10 (14) "I Can't Help Myself" – Keith Michell (Polydor)

ALBUMS

1 (1) "The Pretenders" – The Pretenders (Real)
2 (5) "Permanent Waves" – Rush (Mercury)
3 (2) "One Step Beyond" – Madness (Stiff)
4 (4) "I'm the Man" – Joe Jackson (A and M)
5 (6) "Regatta de Blanc" – The Police (A and M)
6 (10) "The Specials" – The Specials (Two Tone)
7 (7) "Greatest Hits Vol. 2" – Abba (Epic)
8 (3) "Greatest Hits" – Bee Gees (RSO)
9 (5) "Parallel Lines" – Blondie (Chrysalis)
10 (8) "Short Stories" – Jon and Vangelis (Polydor)

*(Courtesy Scarborough)

HEREHERE

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LEICESTER MERCURY, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1980

Punk rock group to aid steel strikers

Help for Corby steelworkers facing hardship during the steel strike has come from an unusual source—a punk rock group

HEREHERE

LEICESTER MERCURY, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1980

Punk rock group to aid steel strikers

Help for Corby steelworkers facing hardship during the steel strike has come from an unusual source—a punk rock group.

Joe Strummer, a member of The Clash, won a 1968 white Fleetwood Cadillac car in a bet with Radio One disc jockey Anne Nightingale.

Now, the group has decided to hand over the car to the town of Corby for an auction or raffle to help with hardship problems that have arisen during the strike.

The group's manager, Cosmo Vinyl, told the Leicester Mercury yesterday about the circumstances surrounding the bet and Joe's decision.

The Bet

Anne Nightingale had bet Joe that their single London Calling would get into the top ten. It failed to do so by just one place.

Anne was then faced with the problem of finding a Cadillac. But help came from a listener to her programme who offered to provide one.

Cosmo said yesterday that the group would probably use the car for a week or two and then hand it over to the people of Corby.

He explained that the group had once stayed in Corby and were upset by the hardship people appeared to be suffering because of the strike.

The date for the handover of the car is yet to be fixed.

HEREHERE

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MELODY MAKER JAN 1980

Clash make it good

HEREHERE

Clash make it good

So what else is there to do at Christmas? Two nights before The Clash play the big 'un at Hammersmith Odeon, a cheery gent looks out of the tiny school-gym-like Acklam Hall in Notting Hill and calls out:

"Anyone wanna see The Clash? Fifty pence!"

Invitation is strictly word-of-mouth, because this is like a block party, the kind they have in New York, where the whole neighbourhood piles into the street and has f-u-n together.

So punks, skins, three-quarter fill the room, the intimacy of the "show"—just round the corner from the Elgin pub where Joe was playing with the 101’ers four years ago—thrust you into a time-warp of parallel audientary closeness, e.g. at the Roxy.

How strange, then, to be shrieked at by differences, like the visual of The Clash as scrawny spotty teenagers, vs. The Clash as suitably skinward adults.

It was a very friendly event, with The Clash laying wholeheartedly into some good old-fashioned rock 'n' roll, including a cover of the 101’ers track "Keys to Your Heart" and lots of old Clash stuff, even unto "Janie Jones" and "Garageland", all of which sounded great.

Sound? Well, there were endless friendly waves of back and forth trying to get it right—the Clash are not necessarily geared for playing venues this small with this level of equipment—but the major thing is that this was a party, and everyone who came along had a good time (depending on how bad their "flu" was).

They played encores, including "Armagideon Time" and "London’s Burning", followed by "London Calling".

I preferred the former, but then, that’s preference...

— VIVIEN GOLDMAN

*(Photo: Barry Plummer)

HEREHERE

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Back to the top

Avril 1980 ----- French magazine

Best Magazine #141 - Interview with Mick Jones

HEAVYWEIGHT - An interview with Mick Jones. Best Magazine on the Road with the Clash

HEREHERE

French

Poids Lourds

On vous l'a déjà expliqué, The Clash se marre doucement quand on leur bassine des insanités de pisse-froids mal baisés du genre : vous avez trahi, vous ne méritez pas de continuer, vous n'êtes plus punk, vous avez même écrit une chanson d'amour, est-ce que vous vous rendez compte, non mais, nous qui comptions tant sur vous... Ces attaques, celle-ci ou d'autres d'ailleurs, leur passent carrément au-dessus de la tête puisque fournies par les minorités snobs et surtout bouchées qui peuplent la zone des trop-branchés de Paris ou Londres. Ces coincés-là ne se montrent pas trop et si j'en parle c'est parce que ça fait une super introduction bien dans le ton, bien dans le sujet : The Clash

En tournée avec The Clash

Je vous raconte toutes ces méchancetés aussi parce que je me suis payé le privilège de suivre le groupe en tournée, et qui plus est, de leur propre aveu, je me suis farci trois des tout meilleurs concerts du tour Seize Tonnes sur la Route 1980. C'est le genre de spectacles qui vous laisse sans mots (entame-je)... Birmingham Top Rank, Coventry (patrie du nouveau ska) et l'Electric Ballroom de Londres furent les théâtres grandioses de concerts-choc. Ils eurent l'irrémédiable charme de me laisser une nette impression de rondelle d'histoire consommée, vécue sur place. Une sorte de privilège de saisir l'événement rock'n'rollien suprême sans retenue sur les lieux et à l'instant où il se produit. Et moi, vous me connaissez, je ne suis pas le genre à vous tartiner ce genre d'âneries si je ne me prends pas une overdose de flash réconfortant vraiment au-dessus de la moyenne.

Revolution Rock : un nouveau rock dur

Revolution Rock, c'est un rock tout nouveau.
Un rock dur, dur, que ce Revolution Rock.
Fais attention quand tu bouges, mec, tu me fais mal au dos.
J'ai pris tellement de pilules que j'en frissonne.
C'est moi qui ai le couteau le plus aiguisé, c'est moi qui coupe la plus grosse tranche.
Mais je n'ai pas le temps de me battre !
Que tout le monde casse son siège et rocke avec ce rythme tout neuf !
Cette nouvelle musique va réduire la nation en purée !
Cette nouvelle musique-là fait sensation !
Dites-le à 'Pa, dites-le à 'Ma, everything's gonna be all right !
Vous le sentez ? Alors ne l'ignorez pas !
Everything's gonna be all right ! ("Revolution Rock")

La tournée Seize Tonnes sur la Route

Seize Tonnes sur la Route s'intitule la tournée majeure de The Clash que rejoint Bruno Blum. Mais pour lui, comme pour bien d'autres, c'est un poids supérieur que pèse le groupe dans le rock'n'roll d'aujourd'hui : champion toutes catégories, maître du swing, ennemi des coups bas, et qui vous met K.O. en un double album historique et un show sans second. Il en parle avec Mick Jones, fondateur de ce battant providentiel.

Moments forts des concerts

Alors voilà, quoi. C'était fabuleux. En plus du bloc The Clash, on a eu droit à quelques bonus croustillants qui justifient mon boulot puisque je vous raconte. À Coventry, ils nous ont fait "Keys To Your Heart" que Strummer écrivit jadis pour les 101ers, mais aussi "Train In Vain" oublié sur le pressage français de "London Calling", puis "Capital Radio" et tout le reste. J'aurais payé trois fois ma place rien que pour voir Strummer se dandiner sur "Jimmy Jazz", morceau-fétiche du public anglais, ou assister à l'exécution de "Police and Thieves" enchaîné sur "Janie Jones" et "Complete Control" – absolument destructeurs pour le public lessivé depuis le largage de "Wrong 'Em Boyo" dix minutes avant.

Comme vous le savez peut-être, Joe Ely (country-western relevé de rock texan) faisait la première partie. À Londres, ils sont revenus pour un "Johnny B. Goode" catastrophe, suivi de l'énorme reggae qu'est "Armagideon Time" de Willie Williams (Voyageurs, ne ratez pas le maxi que Rough Trade fourgue pour deux livres : "Rocking Universally" du même auteur sur l'enregistrement de base de "Armagideon Time"). Pour ce morceau, nous observâmes Mickey Dread, le toaster jamaïcain génial, improviser un recueil de plans vocaux de mind-blowing dub.

Mickey faisait lui aussi son numéro entre Joe Ely et The Clash, toastant des parties de dub préenregistrées (en vente sur son dernier album). Pendant cet intermède roots, trois ou quatre rigolos masqués, lunettés et coiffés d'un pork pie hat prenaient un pied pas évident à se dandiner sur scène, histoire de relever la sauce. Sous la douche de glaviots – dont pas un n'atteint Mickey – on reconnut Johnny Green Glasses, road manager de toujours, Baker Glare, roadie personnel du groupe, et Robin "Eudeline" Banks, ami d'enfance de Mick Jones qui écrivit pour lui "Stay Free" du deuxième album.

La fête a continué avec The Clash qui a déboulé comme d'habitude avec un "Clash City Rockers" rugissant dont chaque accord m'a buriné l'estomac et dressé les cheveux sur la tête. Les deux en même temps, et sans les mains, encore.

Dernières anecdotes

Dernière anecdote : en plus de Mickey Dread qui fait le lion tous les soirs sur "Armagideon Time" (face B du 45 tours, au fait, non ?), à Birmingham on a aussi vu Ranking Roger, toaster-chanteur de The Beat (cf. In The City du mois dernier), faire le bœuf sur le même morceau dans le cadre de l'opération "Et si on jammait avec les musiciens du coin". Parmi les plus connus au cours de la tournée passèrent Ian Dury et Pete Townshend (dont on attend un album solo d'un jour à l'autre). Sans compter que Micky Gallagher, organiste des Blockheads de Ian Dury, fait cette tournée-ci et probablement la prochaine avec eux.

Épilogue

Vous voyez le tableau ? Ou alors c'est que vous avez loupé Chorus.

"Dis, où est-ce que j'ai déjà vu ce mec-là ? Dans La Rivière Rouge ? Ou Une place au soleil ? Peut-être dans Les Désaxés ou From Here to Eternity ? Tout le monde se demande : "C'est quel genre ?"
Tout le monde se demande : "Est-ce qu'il est bien ?"
Tout le monde se dit : "En tout cas, il a l'air marrant !"

Mais c'est... Montgomery Clift, chérie !!!

THE GUNS OF BRIXTON

Le temps que j'aille chercher mon magnétophone pour l'interview, Monty Clift avait disparu. Fou de rage, je force la porte des chiottes du backstage à Coventry et je trouve Mick Jones, un des deux chanteurs-compositeurs-guitaristes de Clash. L'endroit était mal choisi mais, en raison de sa position fort à l'écart, nous décidons d'en faire le décor de cette interview et engageons la conversation.

« Eh, j'ai un copain, c'est vraiment un homme
Quel genre ? Eh bien, il me garde de la solitude.
Il me donne ce dont j'ai besoin...
— Qu'est-ce que tu veux ? Qu'est-ce que t'as ?
— J'en ai tellement besoin...
Oh, tout ce que je veux, il me le donne,
Tout ce que tu veux, il le donne... mais pas gratis ! »
(«Hateful»)

Entretien avec Mick Jones

Et maintenant quelques détails sur l'heureux interviewé : Mick Jones, fondateur de Clash, commença sa carrière musicale en 1975 en jouant au sein des London SS. Mick Jones joue sur une Gibson Les Paul Pro et parfois sur une adorable Gibson Junior marron foncé. Des quatre membres du groupe, c'est lui le plus tourmenté, le moins sûr de lui, le plus pris dans les contradictions qui pèsent sur Clash. Il lui faut aujourd'hui assumer sa condition de star et la concilier avec le côté engagé omniprésent qui fait une bonne partie de la force de son groupe : Mick se pose sans arrêt des questions et, avec Strummer, légende vivante, il parvient toujours à garder un recul incroyable et une lucidité à peine obscurcie par les nuages de ganja qui ont sans aucun doute une part importante dans l'approche de sa musique. Doté d'un feeling absolument unique, son style de guitare est très mélodique, très simple, efficace et dénué de toutes tentatives d'exploits techniques malgré un passé de musicien déjà respectable.

Mick vit son truc jour après jour, et se réfugie complètement dans le monument au rock qu'il aide à construire : Clash. Il ne lui reste que ça, mais ça, à sa place, vous plaindriez-vous ?

Mick Jones : Après cette tournée d'Angleterre qui passe par Paris, où on enregistrera un Chorus, on ira faire une tournée de dix dates en Amérique. Et après ça, je vais me coucher et ne rien faire pendant un bon moment.

Bruno Blum : Même pas de répétitions avec le groupe ?
Mick Jones : Non, je ne crois pas, car Paul Simonon (blond, basse) restera là-bas pour y tourner un film. Ça s'appelle «All Washed Up».

Bruno Blum : Je le connais assez mal. Je crois que peu de gens le connaissent bien en fait.
Mick Jones : C'est à voir. (long silence)... Je crois que Paul va être... une très grosse star dans cette décennie.

Bruno Blum : Est-ce que sa coupe années cinquante a été faite pour le film ?
Mick Jones : Je ne sais pas... je crois qu'il est comme tout le monde ici et qu'il essaye de se débarrasser de cette habitude qu'on a tous attrapée aux U.S.A ! Faudra aussi que je me coupe les cheveux... Mais sinon Paul... je crois que c'est mon grand pote. Mon grand ami... Pendant le tournage il fera toujours partie du groupe et tout mais je crois qu'après ce film on regardera Clash d'un nouvel œil. Maintenant il fait beaucoup de choses et ça me fait vraiment plaisir qu'il se soit mis à écrire des chansons aussi super. En plus, il est en train de devenir un bassiste fantastique et ça me touche beaucoup.

Bruno Blum : Ce n'est pas toi qui enregistres les parties de basse ?
Mick Jones : Non, c'est Paul qui les joue... Je sais que tu m'as vu jouer de la basse en studio (à l'enregistrement de l'E.P. Cost of Living), mais ça ne veut rien dire. Disons que nous nous aidons mutuellement et à part égale. On se montre tous les deux des trucs. On travaille ensemble. Il devient vraiment bon. Il trouve des lignes de basse de reggae pas possibles par exemple. Et ça, c'est une chose exceptionnelle pour un blanc, pour laquelle je n'ai rien eu à lui apprendre.

« Quand ils donneront des coups de pieds dans ta porte
Comment vas-tu arriver ?
Avec tes mains sur la tête
Ou sur la gâchette de ton pistolet ?
Quand la loi fera une descente surprise
Comment vas-tu y aller ?
Tué sur le trottoir
Ou en attendant dans l'antichambre de la mort ?
Vous pouvez nous écraser,
Vous pouvez nous humilier,
Mais il vous faudra répondre aux Oh-aux fusils de Brixton »
(«The Guns Of Brixton» de Paul Simonon)

(Nous rappellerons au public l'évident parallèle entre Paul et James Dean et attendrons la sortie de «All Washed Up» pour voir si je me trompe.)

LOST IN THE SUPERMARKET

Bruno Blum: Tu écris beaucoup de musique.
Mick Jones: Et de paroles aussi. Mais je ne t'indiquerai pas sur quels morceaux.

Bruno Blum: Faudra que je devine.
Mick Jones: Il y en a où c'est évident.

Bruno Blum: Évident pour toi !
Mick Jones: C’est à dire que j’écris un genre de morceau assez précis, que je chante d’ailleurs souvent seul.

Bruno Blum: "Lost In The Supermarket", c’est de toi ?
Mick Jones: Non c’est autant de moi que de Joe.

« Je suis tout perdu dans le supermarché,
Je ne peux plus faire mes achats tranquillement,
J’étais venu pour l’offre spéciale... » (Lost In The Supermarket)

Bruno Blum: Vous semblez, comme la plupart des groupes, ignorer votre potentiel en France...

« ...de personnalité garantie...
Je suis plutôt tombé que né,
Personne ne semblait me remarquer
Il y avait une haie chez moi en banlieue
Par-dessus laquelle je ne pouvais pas voir. »

Mick Jones: Oui, c’est vrai. Quand on a joué à Paris la dernière fois, au Stadium, on avait prévu d’organiser une tournée avec Marc Zermati, que j’aime beaucoup. On en avait discuté vraiment sérieusement, on devait louer un train, faire un film et tout. Mais Marc Zermati s’est fait arrêter et il s’est retrouvé en prison, et la tournée est tombée à l’eau. En plus on a eu des tas de problèmes avec notre manager, Bernie Rhodes, avec qui nous ne sommes plus.

Bruno Blum: C’était à la sortie de "Clash City Rockers" ?
Mick Jones: C’était le premier problème. Le morceau a été accéléré légèrement par Micky Foote, c’est pour ça qu’on ne travaille plus avec lui, car ce genre de décisions ne faisait pas partie de ses attributions. On a eu beaucoup de mal à virer Bernie Rhodes (le manager) à cause des contrats qu’on avait avec lui, mais ça valait le coup. Je tiens à signaler que "Clash City Rockers" a été mis à sa vitesse normale sur le pressage américain de notre premier album (qui présente beaucoup de morceaux différents des pressages européens : des merveilles comme "Protex Blues" ont été supprimées au bénéfice des 45 tours du groupe) et que c’est la seule différence avec les versions originales. Aucun remixage n’a été fait sur les autres morceaux.

Bruno Blum: Comment as-tu rencontré Chrissie Hynde (Pretenders) ?
Mick Jones: Quand elle arrivait de Paris avec Sacha, la batteuse des Lou's. Elle était encore dans les Frenchies, et ils venaient de jouer avec Feelgood, je crois.

Bruno Blum: Les Flamin' Groovies à l’Olympia plutôt.
Mick Jones: Oui, c’est ça. C’est Bernie et Malcolm McLaren qui les ont ramenées toutes les deux. Y’avait Tony James (futur bassiste-lyriciste de Generation X), Brian James (guitariste-compositeur sur les deux premiers Damned) et moi la première fois que je l’ai rencontrée. Ça fait déjà longtemps... je l’ai mieux connue par la suite et on est devenus assez amis. On a essayé de former un groupe, on chantait des duos dans ma chambre...

Bruno Blum: Comme quoi ?
Mick Jones: « I don’t want youuu, but I need youuu », des Beatles ? Non, Smokey Robinson, et puis aussi « Have You Heard of Mmh-Mmh, Everytime I Cry-y, Everytime I Die, Everytime I Wonder Why You Treat Me Sooo-MMmh, Oh, I Can’t Let You Go-oo, Bo-Domm! ». Le Spencer Davis Group en a fait une version...

« Police et voleurs, dans les rues
Terrorisent la nation avec des fusils et des munitions
Police And Thieves, in the streets,
Se battent contre la nation avec des fusils et des munitions »

POLICE AND THIEVES

Bruno Blum: Quand as-tu entendu Police and Thieves pour la première fois?
Mick Jones: Je ne sais plus... avant qu'on enregistre notre premier album! (rires de saoûls complices)... en 1976, juste à sa sortie... C'était à Londres, probablement à Camden Town, où on était tout le temps (le studio de répétition de Bernie Rhodes se trouve derrière le Dingwall's).

Bruno Blum: Tu y habitais?
Mick Jones: Non. Paul oui. Moi j'habitais chez ma grand-mère... je dormais par terre dans son F2 HLM... c'est d'ailleurs là que j'habite en ce moment car j'ai été viré de mon appartement de Pembridge Place où j'habitais avec Tony James. Je n'habite nulle part. Toutes mes affaires sont sous clé dans un garage. Et Joe vogue entre les petits hôtels et les squatters... c'est la vérité...

LES REPRISES REGGAE

Bruno Blum: Y avait-il déjà des reprises de reggae faites par des blancs avant Police and Thieves?
Mick Jones: Non... il y avait beaucoup de hits originaux comme Fatty Bum Bum mais c'est tout...

LE PROCHAIN ALBUM

Bruno Blum: C'est Mikey Dread qui produira votre prochain album?
Mick Jones: Je ne sais pas... en tout cas il a déjà fait le prochain 45 tours... Ça s'appelle Bank Robber.

Bruno Blum: C'est définitif?
Mick Jones: Non, jamais rien n'est définitif! (Dans ce cas précis c'est en raison de difficultés avec la maison de disques qui veut que le prochain 45 tours soit tiré de l'album.)

Bruno Blum: Et la face B?
Mick Jones: C'est difficile à dire... ce sera probablement une version dub de Bank Robber avec un toaster de Mikey. Bank Robber est assez lent. C'est un reggae, mais pas dans le sens que tu as probablement été amené à croire. C'est pas "crash-crash-crash", ça tintinabule doucement, je dirais.

LES SESSIONS DE LONDON CALLING

Bruno Blum: Il vous reste probablement des morceaux des sessions de London Calling?
Mick Jones: Non, pas vraiment. Quelques versions assez "raunchy" de Louie Louie et un truc... avec une trompette, un Billy the Kid sur lequel Joe pianote comme un fou sur des accords de Bob Dylan! C'est un mélange de toutes sortes de plans de Bob Dylan... tu connais l'album Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid? C'est un peu ça mais réduit en une seule chanson. Ce Pat Garrett est un disque vraiment qui m'a beaucoup remué... tu sais que dessus toutes les chansons sont pareilles, mais il dit les choses différemment à chaque fois.

Bruno Blum: Tu as été le voir lors de la tournée de 78?
Mick Jones: Oui. Mais je n'ai pas vu grand-chose du rang Z-Z où j'étais...

LYRICS: I'M NOT DOWN

"S'il est vrai qu'un homme riche mène une vie triste jour après jour,
Je me demande ce que les pauvres peuvent bien faire de la leur.
N'auront-ils rien à dire le jour du jugement dernier?
On m'a cassé la gueule, on m'a viré,
Mais j'suis pas abattu
On s'est payé ma tête, mais j'ai grandi
Et j'suis pas abattu, j'suis pas abattu (...)
Je sais qu'il y aura bien un moyen un jour de tout mettre de mon côté
Et comme un gratte-ciel qui se construit,
Étage après étage, je n'abandonne pas..." (I'm Not Down)

ENREGISTREMENT DE LONDON CALLING

Bruno Blum: En combien de temps avez-vous enregistré London Calling?
Mick Jones: Un mois au total, et à Londres.

Bruno Blum: Il paraît que tu aurais dit que London Calling était votre Exile On Main Street?!
Mick Jones: Non, je n'ai jamais dit ça... je ne trouve pas qu'il ressemble à Exile du tout... je l'écoute cependant à l'occasion et je pense que... c'est un bon disque. Mais le nôtre n'est pas comme ça. Ils n'ont que deux choses en commun: ils sont doubles et avec une pochette en noir et blanc.

LES ÉTATS-UNIS ET CLASH

Bruno Blum: Qu'est-ce que Clash a acquis en allant aux États-Unis?
Mick Jones: Je n'en sais rien... Mais la question serait plutôt qu'est-ce que les États-Unis ont acquis en voyant Clash? Ils en ont retiré plus de choses que moi. Dans le seul sens où nous leur avons présenté une culture parallèle, différente de la leur. C'est ça que nous faisons. C'est comme brancher quelqu'un sur un bon bouquin.

Bruno Blum: Les gens changent là-bas?
Mick Jones: Je pense que ce sera l'horreur complète s'ils réinstaurent le service militaire obligatoire. Surtout que je crois et j'espère que les gens ne répondront pas à l'appel, et qu'ils feront des mouvements anti-conscription, je nous vois déjà jouer des concerts de soutien. Je connais bien le problème car nous on ne s'est pas fait avoir pour l'armée. Jamais, man... ce... ce n'est pas mon style.

LES ÉTATS-UNIS ONT-ILS CHANGÉ CLASH?

Bruno Blum: Qu'as-tu à répondre à ceux qui trouvent que les USA ont changé Clash et que la production de vos albums est faite en fonction des radios américaines? Qu'est-ce que tu en penses?
Mick Jones: J'y pense... mais je n'en pense pas grand-chose. Ce que j'en pense, right, c'est que London Calling est ce qu'on fait, il est comme nous l'avons enregistré, c'est la musique que nous jouons, comme on la fait... on a vraiment eu du bon temps à le faire. On enregistrait pratiquement live dans le studio, tu comprends, ce disque représente exactement ce qu'on est vraiment en ce moment, exactement de la même façon que notre premier album nous représentait, ou que le deuxième. Tu comprends? Ce disque, c'est nous, aujourd'hui. En fait c'est vrai, oui, il passe à la radio en Amérique. Et oui, on aura peut-être une chance d'avoir un gros hit là-bas, et oui, on l'acceptera, et oui, on fera ce qu'il faut. Oui, on fera tout ça et merde, il vaut mieux qu'ils nous aient nous qu'un autre.

Bruno Blum: Y a-t-il des disques américains qui te plaisent en ce moment?
Mick Jones: Ouais! The Roller Skaters et surtout, Chic! J'adore Chic!

LYRICS: WRONG 'EM BOYO

"Stagger Lee rencontra Billy et ils se mirent à jouer
Stagger Lee sortit un sept
Et Billy dit que c'était un huit
Alors Billy dit, hey Stagger! Je vais passer à l'attaque
Je vais devoir laisser mon couteau... dans ton dos!
Pourquoi essayes-tu de tricher?
Et d'écraser les gens sous tes pieds?
Ne sais-tu pas que c'est mal!
D'arnaquer les gens qui essayent de bien faire?
Alors tu ferais bien d'arrêter!" (Wrong 'Em Boyo)

Bruno Blum: Quand je t'ai dit hier que c'est ce morceau-là que je choisirais pour un 45 tours s'il fallait en extraire un de l'album, tu m'as dit que tu ne voudrais pas car c'est assez ska et que le ska est trop à la mode. Mais n'est-ce pas tomber dans le piège inverse? C'est un super morceau et c'est tout.

Mick Jones: Tu as raison... je crois que le problème est que je manque de confiance en moi-même... et aussi parce que je préfère d'autres morceaux...

Bruno Blum: J'aime beaucoup The Right Profile.
Mick Jones: Oui mais je ne le choisirais pas pour un single. Que penses-tu de Train In Vain (le morceau sucré par CBS sur le pressage français de l'album)? C'est le morceau qui marche le mieux aux USA. Tiens! Voilà ce que les Américains gagnent avec nous!

Bruno Blum: Tu es au courant qu'il n'est pas sur l'album en Europe?
Kosmo Vinyl (type épatant de son état, et conseiller-manager du groupe après avoir sévi chez Ian Dury): ... Ce n'est pas vrai... tu veux rire?

Bruno Blum: Non... pas du tout... alors les gens achètent l'import deux fois plus cher ou remettent leur achat à plus tard... (Kosmo et Mick se regardent, l'air catastrophe)
Mick Jones: (à Kosmo) Tu sais que Bruno nous fait beaucoup de reproches... et je commence à comprendre à quel point on a négligé la France... non seulement on n'y joue presque jamais, mais en plus Train In Vain n'est pas sur le disque... pfff...
Kosmo: Ce que tu nous apprends est extrêmement désagréable... mais ça ne m'étonne pas trop... tout le monde te dira que les maisons de disques françaises sont constituées du plus beau ramassis de... (censuré) que la terre ait porté... les organisateurs de concerts sont aussi les pires du monde (etc. air connu).

Mick Jones: Nos relations avec CBS - c'est Kosmo qui s'en occupe - sont un compromis perpétuel. Ils sont venus nous voir l'autre jour. Si on avait su on aurait dû leur dire de mettre le morceau sur l'album, ou sinon on n'irait pas jouer en France! Et ils n'auraient pas ajouté le morceau et on n'aurait pas été en France! Ça se passe toujours comme ça et c'est épuisant: on perd des deux côtés! Ni le morceau ni nous!

Bruno Blum: Faites-leur ajouter un 45 tours gratuit.
Mick Jones: Non il faut qu'ils le mettent sur le 33.

Bruno Blum: Alors un 45 tours en vente normale?
Mick Jones: Non, ça c'est pour les USA, puisque Train In Vain passe à la radio.
Kosmo: Plutôt. Il passe sur 114 des 160 stations importantes... Il est numéro 60, 62 et 80 des charts.
Mick Jones: Le problème pour tenir le coup avec tout ça c'est qu'il faut être hyper responsables tout le temps, ne pas être défoncés tout le temps, être capable d'avoir du recul sur le business...