When The Clash Came to Kent State

JOE STRUMMER, 18'' x 22''  November 2011

Brace yourself for a steamin' cupful of coincidence.

The year 1979 was a great one for me.
Finished high school, started Kent State University.
Had a job in a hospital, bought a bitchin' Camaro. Red, like my hair.

The Clash's "London Calling" album arrived.

It was in 1979/1980 that I discovered Brits other than The Beatles, Yes and Emerson, Lake & Palmer made music. All sorts of New Wave and punk acts were popping up. A lot of it was crap, some of it was OK in limited doses. But The Clash and "London Calling," the third album, offered something more: Intelligence. Huge musical variety (rockabilly, ska, reggae, hard rock). Lyrics that were current, political, funny and easy to remember. You could sing along to it, think, and it kept your feet tapping and your head bopping.

PAUL SIMONON, February 2011

The album cover is a photograph by Pennie Smith of Paul Simonon smashing his Fender Precision Bass at The Palladium in New York City on September 21, 1979 -- my 18th birthday -- during the "Clash Take the Fifth" tour. The cover and lettering echo the look of the first Elvis Presley LP for RCA. Both artists and records opened new frontiers for music.

 

I've had the "London Calling" 8-Track tape (in the bitchin' Camaro), the double album (still play it) and the CD. The sound is awesome. Guy Stevens and Bill Price recorded it at Wessex Studios in the UK, chairs were thrown to keep things lively, soccer was played in between, and in about three weeks it was done. Not one stinker on the track list.

I used to haul this record over to my pal Dennis's place. He worked with me at the hospital and was the first of us to get out on his own, get married, have kids. He and his wife had a trailer in Niles, we'd get shitfaced on Old Milwaukee and I'd make them listen to The Clash. I don't think they liked this new music much, but we're still friends.

Imagine my thrill, then, when in 1982 The Clash came to Kent State University. The Combat Rock tour came to Memorial Gymnasium, in support of the fifth album, released that year. It was the last album to feature the classic line-up before singer/guitarist Mick Jones was fired and drummer Topper Headon was kicked out for his heroin addiction. Fortunately Mick was still on the stage for the KSU show, but Topper had been replaced by the band's first drummer, Terry (Tory) Chimes (Crimes), who held them together fine. Joe Strummer (R.I.P.) wore combat duds and sported a mohawk, stabbed at his guitar and screamed direct into the microphone. The bassist, Simonon, as shown in my January 2010 drawing, was a towering figure who jumped around but didn't say a whole lot.
It was "Revolution Rock" -- "El Clash Combo now in the bandstand!" The Memorial Gymnasium felt like it was shaking apart -- and I was standing on concrete.

The concert was great. I took my neighbor pal, whose dad was a dentist, into the world of safety pins, black clothing, pierced ears and foul language. He was never the same. Perhaps he liked the combat duds, though -- he's career military. Hmmmmm.
I wore a Van Halen T-shirt. Risky. Still have that T-shirt. Still fits, too.
I also took my girlfriend, in the bitchin' Camaro. She married me.
Dennis was in the wedding.

I was in good shape for the concert: Not stoned, I knew the music, and I could still hear it. Here were four British punk rockers with massive radio hits at the time ("Rock the Casbah" and "Should I Stay or Should I Go?") playing a gig in a school gym in Ohio. They could probably have cared less.But they were magnificent. I was astounded by the level of musicianship. They tore into it and played tight versions of all the great ones: "London Calling," "Armagideon Time," "Capital Radio," "Casbah," "Stay or Go," "London Calling," "Safe European Home," "White Man in Hammersmith Palais," "Train in Vain."
Everyone was so well behaved, too. No spitting, no violence. Just a lot of sweat.

Soon The Clash would be done. They put out two barfy B-sides to the Combat Rock singles, then Strummer then formed a Fake Clash and put out "Cut The Crap." I bought it, but it sounded LIKE crap. Soon Jones formed Big Audio Dynamite and was more interested in hip-hop music and audio snippets from old movies. Strummer put out "Earthquake Weather" and it tanked. Simonon became a professional painter, even painting a Big Audio Dynamite album cover.
Joe soldiered on with the Mescaleros; great but not The Clash. His heart gave out while jogging.

To their credit, they had reconciled but had no fake reunions, no further half-baked tours with half the original cast. The legacy is preserved.

I finished KSU, got a job at a newspaper, bought a house, had kids, acquired dogs and cats and bills and chores. Started listening to jazz and all sorts of other music.

But I kept my Clash albums in mint shape, put them in plastic sleeves and stored them right. London Calling is 31 years old now. I went to my 30th year class reunion a year ago and the DJ played Bee Gees, Jackson Browne, Journey, Heatwave, Commodores and Fleetwood Mac. Not a Clash song in the lineup.
I never danced. I had The Clash CD in the car, a boring Impala. But it still rocked.

Joe Strummer, $200.
Paul Simonon, $150.
Clash vinyl albums and singles: Priceless
Tom Wills Productions, 2010. 2011