The Clash: It’s A Great Week To Remember One Of Rock’s Mightiest Bands
One of the less-heralded awards given out during Grammy weekend went to the Clash, who were honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Grammy’s Special Merit Ceremony. Rapper Chuck D of Public Enemy spoke about their influence. In an Instagram post, he noted, “As a late teenager, the punk movement pushed me further. In particular, the Clash, which happened to leak through the time of disco, showed me that there was this cross-cultural sound that could cut across genres and audiences.”
The Clash – guitarist/singers Joe Strummer and Mick Jones, bassist Paul Simonon, and (for most of their career) drummer “Topper” Headon – made a massive impact. Their influence has been in the air lately: other than the Grammy honor, you may have heard that “International Clash Day” is this week. How did they get their own “holiday?” They were a popular band, but not that popular. They didn’t reach the commercial heights of, say, the Rolling Stones or the Who. But to those who loved them, they were immensely important. They were famously referred to as “The Only Band That Matters.” Their record label came up with that phrase, but it stuck because it felt true. They’re one of those bands who inspired so many people to start bands.
As a punk rock band signed to a major label in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, the Clash existed in a weird grey area: they were fighting the power while signed to a huge corporate entity. They were a band with big ambitions and they wanted to reach as many people as possible. (They wrestled with this on the song “Complete Control.”) But being on a major label, despite its pitfalls, benefitted them: they reached a lot of people.
They don’t have a huge discography: it’s just five albums. (Sorry, but their lame yet aptly titled, Mick Jones-less final effort, Cut The Crap doesn’t count.) The 1977 self-titled debut and 1980’s London Calling should be in any serious music fan’s record collection. 1978’s Give ‘Em Enough Rope is great, too, as is 1980’s Sandinista! (However, the 36-song triple album could have benefitted from a bit of editing.) 1982’s Combat Rock is also great. They were a punk band, but they didn’t adhere to punk rock’s orthodoxy. Musically, they incorporated rockabilly, reggae, ska, and even hip-hop into their music. Because of this, their impact was felt in genres outside of punk or even rock. They’re one of those bands whose influence transcends numbers like record sales and chart numbers.
Radio had a complex relationship with the Clash. I remember hearing a few songs here and there on my local rock station. In retrospect, I can see that songs like “I’m So Bored With The U.S.A.” and “1977” (with the shouted lyrics, “No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones!”) may have been problematic for programmers. But they were, in a weird way, a perfect band for MTV to embrace: they were cool-looking, had a growing fanbase, and weren’t “owned” by radio. That’s where I first really got them: “Rock The Casbah” was an amazing video, and the song was an instant classic.
I went right out and picked up the 45”, which I’m pleased to say I still have. That was my gateway: I soon had my own copy of Combat Rock on cassette.
But the real game changer for me was when Rolling Stone named London Calling the best album of the ‘80s. I was in college at the time and was at the perfect age to really dive into their music. I noticed that so many of the bands that I loved referenced them as a major influence, including U2. Years later, when the Clash was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2003, The Edge was one of two presenters. He recalled seeing them at a small club with his bandmates. “It was like they were possessed,” he said. “It was the most intense thing anyone in that building had ever seen. It was truly shamanistic. For everyone there, that show was a kind of awakening. The revolution had come to town.”
Years later, Bono said in the documentary Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten, “If the Clash could do it, you could do it.”
They had a similar effect on Tom Morello, who also spoke about them at their induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. In his speech, he recalled seeing the Clash in Chicago as a teenager and buying a t-shirt that said, “The Future Is Unwritten” on it. “The Clash performed with passion, commitment, purpose, righteousness, and an unflinching political fire. There was such a sense of community in the room, it seemed like absolutely anything was possible. I was energized, politicized, and changed by the Clash that night. And I knew that the future was unwritten and maybe we fans and that band would maybe write it together.”
He spoke with reverence about the band’s leader: “When Joe Strummer played, he played as if the world could be changed by a three-minute song. And he was right. Those songs changed a lot of people’s worlds forever, mine at the top of the list. He was a brilliant lyricist with anger and wit and always stood up for the underdog. And his idealism and conviction instilled in me the courage to pick up a guitar and the courage to try to make a difference with it.”
I never saw the Clash in concert, but I was fortunate to see Joe Strummer with his mighty band, the Mescaleros, three times. They blew minds each time, but the third, in April of 2002, was the most memorable. That’s because I interviewed Joe before the show. I’ve interviewed a lot of legendary rockers in their 40s and beyond; most of them have mellowed out from their persona from their 20s and 30s. Not Joe Strummer: he was the guy who I’d seen, via video, in interviews from the ‘70s and ‘80s. He ranted about how bad pop music was (“If I was a young person sitting in a coffee house and I heard some of this crap, I’d riot!”). He spoke lovingly of his current band, and rightfully so: their latest album at the time, Global A Go-Go, was fantastic, as was the prior album, 1999’s Rock, Art and the X-Ray Style. He was incredibly grateful to Tim Armstrong of Rancid: his label, Hellcat Records, put Joe’s albums out. He was stunned that Roger Daltrey guested on the title track of his album (“Your brain can’t believe what your eyes and ears are telling it!”).
The interview was going well, so I decided to go for it. The Clash was due to be on the next Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ballot. If they were voted in, would Joe be up for a reunion performance? It didn’t seem like this was something he’d thought of, even though many of his peers certainly think about it a lot. He seemed annoyed at his former bandmates: “I’m out here playing with these guys [the Mescaleros], and those guys ain’t doin’ nuthin’!” He seemed disappointed that Mick and Paul weren’t actively making music anymore. Also, he felt that a reunion at such a posh event wasn’t something he’d want to do. (Back then, the inductions were always at the Waldorf Astoria in New York City.)
I explained to him that Talking Heads played one last time at their induction earlier that year; he seemed to be mulling that over, and then my time was up. Alas, a reunion wasn’t in the cards. Joe died a few months later; he was gone by the time the Clash was inducted.
As Tom Morello said in his epic speech, the Clash’s spirit and influence outlived the group; it might outlive all of the members. “Whenever a band plays as if every single person’s soul in the room is at stake, the spirit of the Clash is there. And whenever a stadium band or little garage band has the guts to put their beliefs on the line to make a difference, the spirit of the Clash is there. And whenever people take to the streets to stop an unjust war, the spirit of the Clash is definitely there… the best way to honor them is by putting the Clash’s philosophy into practice. By waking up each morning, knowing that the future is unwritten, and that it can be a future where human rights, peace, and justice come first. But it is entirely up to us. To me, that’s what the Clash was all about.”
Morello summed it up perfectly, and it’s why I find myself returning to the Clash’s music, over and over, and always feeling energized after listening to them. The music hasn’t lost any of its power, and it sounds more relevant to me now than it ever has before.
