Clash: Manifesto of Punk

Rock bands like to talk about their independence and integrity, but most are as concerned with what'll sell as the people who put together TV sitcoms.

When the punk movement captured headlines last year in England, dozens of young hopefuls stopped trying to model themselves after old-liners Yes and Jethro Tull and leaped onto the new bandwagon.

The rush to punk, however, was derailed in January when U.S. audiences rejected Britain's Sex Pistols, the most colorful and best publicized punk outfit.

Record companies have continued to put out a few punk LPs, but their hearts haven't been in it. Promotion has been spotty and radio airplay even worse. The labels realized conservative U.S. audiences didn't want any part of the safety pin ethic.

Bands, too, have begun running for cover. Many of the aggresive, hard-core punk units have adopted new battle slogans - power pop or new wave - and softened their stance. Punk is now a commercial liability. No one wants to be associated with it. Except the Clash.

"We're a punk rock band," boasts the Clash's Mick Jones. "We're true to the spirit of '76 (in England). When other bands saw what was happening, they thought punk was going to be the next 'big thing.' So they wanted in.

"Most of them were crap. They were just trying to cash in on what a few good people had started. But then the Pistols came over here and kinda flunked, so the rush to punk has skidded to a stop. The bands are rushing off somewhere else. Good riddance. We'll carry on. In a year, those other bands will be crawling back."

Mick Jones has the sullen, mistrusting aura, on first meeting, that makes him ideal for a role in a film about punk rock. Sitting on the floor of a second-rate West Hollywood motel, he looks as if hasn't slept in days. He's stringing his guitar and he's not sure intially whether to be outspoken or toungue-in-cheek in the interview.

Asked if he's pleased with the new album the band has been recording in San Francisco, he says:

"Yes, we're as happy as pigs in ..."

Gradually, Jones loosens up. True to the punk persona, he's got strong opinions. Like the Pistols' Johnny Rotten, he tends to exaggerate for effect, but over the course of an hour, his conversation becomes more natural, revealing him as a witty, provacative observer of the rock scene.

After the Pistols, the Clash is the most acclaimed of the British punk bands. Some critics there even place Jones and crew above the Pistols. But the foursome has received far less publicity in this country than Rotten's band. The Clash hasn't toured here and its first LP wasn't released in the United States.

CBS, which owns the rights to the album, hasn't explained officially why it hasn't released the album, but the company reportedly felt the sound quality and production of the LP were too primitive to make it competitive commercially.

Sandy Perlman, best known for his work with best-selling Blue Oyster Cult, is producing the Clash's second album in San Francisco. The speculation is that CBS insisted the band work with a name producer this time. Jones is vague on the matter, but he acknowledges the band was uncertain at first about the move.

"We had some reservations," Jones explains. "We didn't know if we wanted anyone else in the studio with us. A producer's just a translator. They're people with paid ears - wallet ears. They'll listen to what you have and they try to find a way to make sure it sells. But Perlman's cool. I can learn from him. But if CBS is hoping he's going to compromise our sound, they're going to be surprised."

Guitarist-singer Jones, 22, is joined in the Clash by singer-guitarist Joe Strummer, bassist Paul Simonon and drummer Nicky Headon. The band (with different personnel) was formed in the summer of 1976, six months after the Pistols arrived on the London scene.

Of the foursome, only Strummer came from a group that was even remotely known around town. He was in the 101ers, which had recorded a fairly conventional rock ballad ("Heys to Your Heart") for Chiswick.

After seeing the Pistols live, Strummer wanted a change. He was attracted by that band's more urgent, aggressive, relevant style. "(The Pistols) just knocked my head off," he once said. "It was the music of now."

True to the punk guidelines, the Clash's first album contained short, high-speed songs and a belief that ideas in music are more important than technical proficiency. The themes struck out at oppressive social conditions and apathy.

The music isn't as commanding on record as the Pistols, but it has a broader melodic bass and more varied arrangements. Despite fiery titles like "White Riot," "Hate & War" and "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.," the songs - Jones feels - are positive.

"That's the difference betwen us and the Pistols," he says. "I think we're more optimistic. The Pistols said there was no future and we say there is a future. But I've got great respect for the Pistols. They're my favorite group. People tried to make out there was a feud between us, but that's rubbish. The clever thing for me to do now would be to attack the Pistols. That would make us popular with some people over here, but the Pistols were great."

While not shying away from the punk tag, Jones does feel there has been too much emphasis in England on the Clash as a political band.

"I am interested in politics," he says. "I could reel off a lot of cliches about the political conditions in England, but we write about a lot of things. We're not just interested in one or two subjects. I write about anyhting that interests me.

"The thing that interests me most is the power and excitement of rock 'n' roll, what it can do to people. I saw Mott the Hoople years ago and I'll never forget the frenzy in the room. People were going crazy. I knew then I wanted to be a rocker.

"It showed me the impact the music can have on people. I thought about it for weeks afterward. It was a difficult time in my life. The music was one of the only things I had to hold onto. By the time I was old enough to be in a band, however, that frenzy and emotion was gone. People were listening to bands that my grandmother listens to. Then a bunch of bands came along and tries to revive that old energy. That's what the spirit of '76 was all about in England."

The United States gets its first sample of the Clash this fall. The band's new album is due in November and a brief tour is planned. CBS even is considering finally releasing the original Clash LP.

Given this country's conservative reaction to the Pistols, the Clash's commercial future here is highly questionable. The same arguments hurled at the exhilerating Pistols are likely to resurface against the Clash: the themes are too English, the music is too primitive, the stance is too crude.

Jones, who sampled U.S. rock tastes while recording the new album, doesn't underestimate the challenge ahead.

"I thought rock audiences in England were apathitic when we started, but I've never seen as unhealthy a place for rock 'n' roll as America. We might be too late. It may be impossible to wake them up at this point.

"What's worse than the rock audience are the rock bands here. If there were any way we could destroy them all at once, it'd be perfect. I think American rock bands - and the English ones, like Foreigner and Foghat, who pretend to be American - are a cancer. It's time for us to come here with a manifesto of change. All we can do is try. If people can't see what we are - the rock 'n' roll band of the '70s - that's their problem."

Hilburn, Robert. Los Angeles Times September 17, 1978

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