“It’s a jolly good fucked up story, The Clash’’. Not wrong, Johnny Green (Clash crew legend). Having listened (several times) as Chuck D brilliantly narrates his way through 7 hours of first-hand Clash memories, from studio punch ups to ‘jingle bells dribbling from 36 tracks’ (Sandinista!), you’d be a fool not to agree with the former Clash roadie. Legendary producer Sandy Pearlman disagreed once – and ended up being punched out by Green after being invited to a show by their record label CBS. Pearlman saw the funny side – subsequently producing the band’s second album..
Every good story needs a little humour, there was plenty on offer during the recording of London Calling at Wessex Studios. Take Infamous producer Guy Stevens hurling chairs around the studio during sessions because someone pinched his booze, or the aforementioned Johnny Green whisking Stevens off to the pub so Mick could do the mixing. Accountants in rabbit outfits. Taping a journo to a pool table at 5 am to hear your new album is not your regular Sony Music playback party. The Clash were never regular.
The tears still sting – from hearing the news of Joe’s premature death or Mick screaming at the bouncers ‘Let them go, they’re fuckin’ dancing not fighting’. Tears because we cared so much – and because the band did too.
Later episodes of the podcast reveal the pressures of being a 365 day a year working class band struggling with fame and the looming lure of filthy lucre. The podcast brilliantly captures the mood as the band descend in an abyss of exhaustion, conflict – and ultimately drugs. Despite fatigue and disillusion, Joe’s passion still fires. His ranting diatribe about the ‘underside of society’, ‘affordable housing, educational programmes’ and ‘taking care of the madman on the street corner’ is reminiscent of the iconic ‘without people you’re nothing’ spiel he would make in his final years. We’ve still not put the humanity back, Joe.
The Clash’s story is not the classic rock n’ roll tale of self-destruction either; a quick flick through the pages of ‘Please Kill Me’, confirms US punk bands were the real gutter snipes. And there’s no ‘doing it for the fans’ mega bucks happy ending al la Jonny and his Pistols (minus poor Sid) – or indeed the ‘Ha ha ha ever get the feelin’ you’ve been cheated?’ 78 San Fran. ‘Pistols onstage meltdown.
However, like the ‘Pistols you can choose your ending to the Clash’s story; Joe’s Mick-less Clash Mk 2 busking for free or the teary reunion of Joe and Mick (‘hold me coat I’m going up’) back together on stage for the first time in 19 years for a striking firemen’s benefit gig. Months later Joe was gone. Choose either ending – but the Clash’s ultimate farewell was miles away from the mega bucks’ reunions – bringing the story full circle to the early days of ‘open up the back door’ so fans could get in for free. Complete Control.
‘The only band that matters’? – for me, for a time, yes – rightly or wrongly the Clash shaped my thinking, my politics and gave me the desire to see the world – through those dribbling jingle bells of Sandanista! 40 years on and I’m still not ‘wearing blue and brown’….
The Lonely Chopstick 