The Ballad Of Joe Strummer : Rope And A Double-Bill To Die For

Originally titled "Rent-A-Riot", the second album by The Clash was released on 10th November 1978 and was called "Give 'Em Enough Rope". After their astonishing debut album, their difficult follow-up gave them the chance to cement their reputation as one of our top bands of the moment. As far as I'm concerned, the album delivered in spades, but many people I spoke to felt the sound to be sanitised, pointing the finger squarely at producer Sandy Pearlman. The album peaked at number 2 in the UK album charts, ensuring a successful outcome for the band, though Joe Strummer suffered as a result of Pearlman's involvement. Pearlman was no fan of Strummer's vocals and made sure Topper's drums were mixed louder on the whole album.
"Give 'Em Enough Rope" spawned two chart singles in "English Civil War" and "Tommy Gun" - the latter dealing with terrorism, reflecting the bands political focus, and kicked off with one of the most dynamic opening tracks you could wish for with "Safe European Home". This would go on to be a live favourite with fans and was joined by the intensely moving "Stay Free"; the swagger of "Last Gang In Town" and the immense "All The Young Punks" with lyrics that would stay with you for ever.
The album was voted 'Album Of The Year' by Rolling Stone and Time magazines and by influential UK music paper Sounds, and deservedly so, showing the band could evolve while staying true to their roots.

The recording sessions for the album also realised some terrific tracks that would grace both vinyl and concert halls in the future. "White Man In Hammersmith Palais" (in my view, their finest hour), "Pressure Drop" and "The Prisoner" were just a few of the songs recorded during the Rope sessions and showed their output to be fiercely creative.
I spent a fortnight with the album rarely off my turntable, growing to love the songs and eagerly awaiting the 24th day of that very same month when The Clash would return to the Kings Hall Derby with The Slits and The Innocents as support bands. I'm ashamed to say I missed The Innocents, due to time spent in the bar trying to spy anyone from Ashbourne who could give me a lift home, but made bloody sure I got out in time to see The Slits who were simply magnificent. I can see Budgie now, pounding the skins with Tessa providing solid backing while Ari prowled the stage and Viv layed down her wonderful skeletal guitar. The hall was naturally packed for their set, and expectations went even higher as the lights dimmed and The Clash took the stage. Late again, but I had a lift home so I could enjoy the night without the prospect of kipping out under the stars as I did a year earlier.
Beginning with the already classic "Safe European Home", The Clash tore the place up, with "Police And Thieves" and "Pressure Drop" rubbing shoulders with the more frantic "White Riot" and "Janie Jones" and "Career Opportunities" inducing mass pogoing from the front to the back of the hall. As always, I departed from the frenzy down the front and moved to the balcony to watch the band for a couple of numbers and Strummer's stage presence seemed to energize the crowd, making us think that whatever the New Year had in store, we could handle it.
It seemed the band were at the height of their powers, and I was simply drooling at the thought of what was next on the agenda. As it turned out, London was calling.

Chaos At The Kings Hall: My First Night With The Clash

Music first got me in its clutches during my schooldays. The likes of Bowie, Mott The Hoople, Roxy Music, Marc Bolan and The Sweet kickstarting my musical education, and making albums and 45rpm singles a must when birthdays, Christmas or just special treats rolled around. I began to read the music press when I was 14, and became aware of the wonderful world of live music, where bands would play at concert venues up and down the country with loyal followings taking the chance to see their heroes play live. When I was 16, I started going to concerts, and some good friends lined up a series of gigs to go to at the Kings Hall in Derby. Bands came thick and fast in those days, and almost every week offered a new band to see: Man, Budgie, Curved Air, Steve Hillage, Streetwalkers, Fruupp.... they were great nights out, but deep down inside, I was bored. Like many others, I was waiting for something to happen, and didn't really know it.
Then Punk hit the headlines and the airwaves and I knew this was it. John Peel's radio show from Monday through to Friday unleashed a host of exciting new bands, and The Kings Hall - built over a swimming pool - took the baton and ran with it. In October 1977, The Boomtown Rats played there, and I enjoyed watching them as they were one of the flavours of the month at the time, even though Bob Geldof's onstage patter didn't particularly convince me and several others I talked to. At the time, I was out of work, awaiting my first job which would turn up out of the blue in December of that year,and would give me some much-needed cash to fuel my passion for music. London was calling to me, but a gig on 24th November at the Kings Hall was the only thing on my radar at the time, and would mark the first time I saw The Clash onstage.

So, I turned up at the hall early and was greeted by a long line of like-minded souls who walked down over half the length of Queen Street to join the queue. After what seemed like an age, the queue began to move forwards and before we knew it, we were inside and making a beeline for the bar to grab that first pint of the evening. I was already aware of the supporting acts and resolved to watch them both. An all-girl bands called The Lous (who were French) took the stage first, but sadly only lasted a couple of songs, thanks to some members of the partisan crowd who only wanted to see The Clash. Shower after shower of spit, beer cans and bottles, and other projectiles usually confined to Derby County's Baseball ground battles between rival fans were all aimed at the band who took flight, leaving those of us who wanted to see them utterly frustrated. Next on the bill was Richard Hell And The Voidoids; a band that had thrilled me with songs like "Blank Generation" and "Love Comes In Spurts". Unfortunately, Richard and his band suffered the same treatment as The Lous but they never took a backward step and played their set in full, earning great respect in the process.
Now the stage was set for The Clash, but the hour was getting late for Kings Hall gigs, where the headline act normally went onstage by 9.30pm. In the event, The Clash were still in their dressing room at 10.30, and with my last bus home only 15 minutes away, I had a decision to make: Should I Stay Or Should I Go? I reckon it took me all of a minute to decide I was staying to see the band. Having made that decision, the only course open to me was to sleep rough outside as none of my friends at the time were into Punk and therefore didn't attend the gigs. At 10.40pm, the lights went down, Joe Strummer and co walked on stage and went straight into "London's Burning". I knew I had made the right decision!The band and the atmosphere were simply electric, with all the songs we knew so well present and correct, and a few new ones we would grow to love. This gig marked a first for me,in that it was the first time I extricated myself from the pogoing masses down the front and went onto the balcony where I stood and watched the band and the crowd's reaction. The song I chose was "Police And Thieves". Truth was, I needed a breather, but it became something I would do at every gig I attended. In years to come, I would appreciate just how much the likes of Iggy, Pete Murphy, Lydon, Siouxsie, Ian Curtis and others commanded the stage and Joe was the same. Police And Thieves may have originally bore the name of Junior Murvin but Strummer went on to own it, and the song became of of my live faves: quite simply one of the most intense musical experiences you could imagine.

All too soon, the gig was over and I trudged out into the chilly November evening on a high, which was slightly diluted by the fact that my nice warm bed seemed a world away. After walking for what seemed like ages, I finally dossed down in a bus shelter and waited for dawn. I know at some point, I finally got to sleep. Whether I dreamed or not is beyond my memory, but if I did, I'd like to think I dreamed of Joe and the boys. When morning came, the sound of a bus honking its horn rudely awoke me, and I gathered my thoughts and realised I would return to the Kings Hall later that night. The Jam were headlining with Neon Hearts supporting, but that's another story.

Now, an illness called Meniere's Disease has largely taken control of my life, meaning attending live music is out of the question but I've had my day in the sun and been extremely fortunate to see some terrific live acts. I've seen Patti Smith at Birmingham Odeon, The Stranglers, The Jam, The Banshees on many occasions,The Lurkers play a super set at London's Marquee club as the fog rolled in on Wardour Street outside, I've seen The Who and The Rolling Stones rock the old Wembley football stadium, Iggy, Lux, The Ramones and Lydon tear up the stage at Nottingham's Rock City, the great Joy Division play twice and got off my sickbed riddled with flu to drag myself to see The Clash at Derby Assembly Rooms. Wonderful nights indeed, but I really don't think any gig has ever matched The Clash at Derby Kings Hall.
You never forget the first time.

The Ballad Of Joe Strummer (part two) The Sound Of The Westway

1976, and England really was burning with boredom now. Disaffected and disfranchised youth, waiting for something, anything, to happen.Mick Jones was one of those on a short fuse, and joined a band called London SS, with a guy named Bernard Rhodes as their manager. The Punk scene spawned many legendary bands who never played a single gig, and London SS were a prime example. The name reached legendary status, but like many, imploded with just a name for a memory. Jones and Rhodes remained in contact and contacted Paul Simonon who had previously auditioned for London SS as a vocalist. before long, drummer Terry Chimes and guitarist Keith Levene were enlisted, and Strummer soon followed when Rhodes gave him the chance to form a band that would rival the Sex Pistols.

On 4th July 1976, The Clash made their live debut, supporting the Sex Pistols at The Black Swan in Sheffield. More intensive rehearsals followed, and the band gradually improved, though Levene and Chimes would soon be out of the band; the former was fired and the latter walked out.
Word of mouth soon spread about this exciting new talent, and I jumped at the chance of seeing them play live in nearby Derby on a dream of a bill. Together with The Clash, were the Sex Pistols headlining and The Damned and Johnny Thunders And The Heartbreakers to make for an exciting quartet of acts. Unfortunately, Derby City Council met on 4th December - the day of the gig - insisted on vetting the Pistols' show. Rotten and co simply didn't turn up, leaving the council to stew for over 2 hours. In the end, the council refused permission for the show to go ahead, so hundreds of us had a disappointing trip back home, denied the chance to see 4 terrific bands perform.

So, 1976 fucked off, and in came '77 and one hell of a year was in store. At the arse-end of January, The Clash signed to CBS Records for 100 grand, releasing their first single "White Riot" in March. This white hot slice of vinyl was a stunning declaration of intent and I knew at once that all the hype was justified. Bring on the album!
Punk spawned many great albums and singles, and a whole cartload of stunning debut LP's. "The Scream", "Crossing The Red Sea", "Another Music In A Different Kitchen", "Never Mind The Bollocks", "Cut", "Real Life".... the list goes on, but "The Clash" really was something and still is. The kind of album you play loud with the bedroom window wide open, so the music goes out into the streets where it belongs. This is still a record that stands up, even more so when you consider the mediocrity of today's music scene and the utter shit perpetrated by our current government and those who have gone before.

8th April 1977 was a red letter day when the album hit the racks of my local record store, and I could not wait to get the album back home and slam it on the turntable. Right from the opening track about brothel keeper "Janie Jones", the album simply never lets up, with furious guitar, some juggernaut drumming and venomous lyrics spat out with the contempt we all felt for the wankers who sought to control our lives. Economics, class, rubber johnnies ("Protex Blue"), race, the hopelessness of unemployment and an inspired reaction to a critic who had labelled The Clash a 'garage band'... great lyrics that were soon memorised for the gigs that were to come when we were all singalongaclash down at the front. For me, one of the finest songs in this stunning album is Junior Murvin's "Police And Thieves", recorded to boost the running time of the album, and destined to be a live standard which introduced many of us to Reggae.



"The Clash" reached number 12 in the album charts, and should have made number one, but it served its purpose giving us music for the ages and whetting our appetites for seeing the band live. Happily, the wait for me was almost over.

Coming In December: Joe Strummer Month

I've written a brief acknowledgement on the anniversary of Joe Strummer's death every year since he passed away. This year, I want to do something different. To play just a very small part in a celebration of his life and the great music he was a part of. I was lucky enough to see The Clash play live on many occasions, and those golden memories stay with me. Always will. So, this December will be Joe Strummer month here on Wonderland. I'll be including reviews, video clips, concert memories... and hope to see you here.