Clash at the Controls?

THE CLASH
Sandinista!
Epic E3X37037

By Ira Robbins
Trouser Press April 1981

The first time the clash ventured into a recording studio they emerged with a concise blockbuster 45 ("White Riot") that delivered the goods in under two minutes. Four years later they unburden themselves of their fourth album - a three-record mammoth clocking in at well over two hours. From a momentary rush to an evening’s diversion, the Clash continue to amaze on one hand and stagnate on the other.

Sandinista! confronts us with the most overt and pointed political statements of the band’s career, as well as their least organized and most trying work. The Clash is predictable and somewhat doctrinaire in its rhetoric (cleverly stated though it might be), but totally surprising in musical direction and execution. In a sense, Sandinista! institutionalizes the Clash; they are no longer a controversial band laying down the gauntlet for polarized rock armies but a skilled organization doing what comes naturally - with some amusing self-criticism chucked in.

Historical significance aside, Sandinista! could use a major pruning job. Like Elvis Costello (whose Get Happy!! proved that more is less), the Clash tosses in everything but the kitchen sink: a little chatter, a few friends, some send-ups, a couple of tracks that go on way too long and some that just don’t go anywhere. This six-sided monument openly exhibits stretch marks; someone - probably to confirm the band’s beneficence and irk their record company - went a little too far. This would have made a great album and a half.

Although Sandinista! suffers from excess, it provides more than enough good stuff to stand proud in the clash catalogue - that is, if you’ve got the time to find the good stuff. Sitting still (or even dancing in place) through six long sides is difficult but not impossible, and this isn’t an album to be enjoyed in chunks. Sandinista! depicts the Clash as long-time, perennially difficult friends - the kind who are never on time for appointments but always a pleasure to see.

The Clash has never been known for displaying light humor or casual attitudes in public, but Sandinista! lets down the guard a bit. Keyboard player Mickey Gallagher’s children sing silly versions of "Career Opportunities" and "Guns of Brixton" so charmingly as to strip the songs of any self-importance . Another oddity, "The Sound of the Sinners," finds guitarist/vocalist Joe Strummer pledging his troth (with apparent sincerity) to the god of his choice. A straight gospel tune with clever lyrics, "Sinners" conveys no discernible sarcasm, and may very well embody Strummer’s new faith. Or may be it’s just a triple sec in-joke.

The other novel aspect of Sandinista! is its reliance on guest musicians. Not only does the indispensable Gallagher turn up everywhere, but his fellow Blockheads are also here, along with Ellen Foley, Lew Lewis - and that’s just the beginning. Someone named Timon Dogg (see this issue’s Clash feature for further identification) wrote and sings a track on which one guesses the Clash merely plays backup; reggae toaster Mikey Dread also takes a few turns vocally and mixes dub versions of a few tracks.

Which raises an interesting notion; whether or not American clash fans (like those who were dragged in by "Train in Vain") are ready for this aspect of reggae. How will ears still adjusting to the bleached skank of Joe Jackson (or even earlier Clash) react to dub’s bizarre fade-ins, fade-outs and infinite echo? Personally, I think dub is awful; it’s one of those haphazard modern arts that requires little skill and achieves no real effect. Also, Mickey Dread’s voice has all the charm of Phyllis Diller’s - whiny, nasal, indecipherable and interminable.

Sandinista!’s first side is uniformly excellent, with no bad tracks among six madly divergent songs and styles. "The Magnificent Seven" is a long, clever Strummer polemic set to a chunky disco swing. Lead guitarist Mick Jones and Ellen Foley, this year’s Sonny and Cher, duet on "Hitsville UK," which uses a jivey beat, xylophone and pretty melody to deliver a message of encouragement to the indie record business. "Junco Partner" is a medium-tempo, sing-song reggae 16-bar with synthesizer and fiddle; it’s the side’s weakest link, but a good example of the clash’s narrative ballad ability. "Ivan Meets GI Joe" has the ambience of a cyclone; synthesizer blips and horns over a blazing funk track, while the lyrics employ the dance floor as a metaphor for the cold war. Tracks like this make the clash unique; who else could make a hoppy number out of international politics?

"The Leader" is routine clash rockabilly with lyrics about governmental indiscretion and scandal, but "Something About England" is as original an effort as they have ever attempted. Beginning with airy tacked piano and a plaintive Jones decrying the decline of the Kingdom, the number breaks open with Strummer portraying a down-and-out who has witnesses the failure of the English dream firsthand. An odd piece for the Clash, but one that breaks new, sophisticated ground.

Side two opens with celestial guitar, glockenspiel and harpsichord; the masterful "Rebel Waltz" sounds like Mike Oldfield (if you can swallow that ). Until Strummer opens his gap-toothed mouth to sing, no one would ever peg this as the same band responsible for "Hate and War."

The side’s other interesting cuts include Mose Allison’s "Look Here," given a cool jazz treatment; "The Crooked Beat," an overlong (and Mikey Dread-damaged) reggae track sung by Paul Simonon; and the Mick Jones-sung "Somebody Got Murdered," which continues along the musical path set by "Stay Free" and "Lost in the Supermarket." The side closes on a less successful note - a seven-minute twin number, "One More Time/One More Dub," which takes a great slashing guitar line and extends it (with Dread’s aid) into a tepid piece of tedium. Instead of mesmerizing workout, "One More Time" is merely overlong and pointless.

The second disc (third side) starts off with a snatch of audio verite radio and another wordy rhythm rap, "Lightening Strikes (Not Once but Twice)" - more evidence of Strummer’s New York fixation. As his lyrical talents turn increasingly early-period Dylanesque, the Clash is becoming the only rock band doing protest (or what used to be called "topical") songs. A hefty guitar lick introduces "Up in Heaven (Not Only Here)," another Jones vocal that moves along nicely without ever working up a full head of steam - 1981 Clash understatement, perhaps. The other four songs on this side are best ignored, although the unexpected gospel of "The Sound of the Sinners" merits attention.

The fourth chapter starts off tremendously. Eddy Grant’s "Police on My Back" is sung by Jones with enough energy to recall the angriest of early Clash repertoire. The most exciting rocker on the entire album, it stands out on a side which also includes the anti-draft (English) single, "The Call Up," whose brief riff of a melody with reiterated lyrics to match will never get it off the ground. "Broadway" has roughly the same idea as "Something About England" and succeeds just as well; "Midnight Log" and "The Equalizer" are unimpressive, while "Washington Bullets"’s cheerful calypso and specifically political lyrics make an odd but effective match not too far from Evita.

Sandinista!’s fifth side (whew!) starts off with Timon Dogg’s Celtic-sounding "Lose This Skin." (Try not to think of Three Dog Night’s "Joy to the World.") The rest of the side - in fact the rest of the album - is hopeless assemblage of amateurish musique concrete, and would have been better left behind when the record reached the mastering stage.

That the Clash can produce 36 songs, two-thirds of them generally high caliber, and then deliver them with a variety of conception and execution proves this band’s collection talent runs ever onward. Epic Records probably will have a lot a trouble moving this album off the racks simply because there’s no easy way to deal with it, much less absorb it. (Also, a $14.98 list price makes it less accessible economically than London Calling.) Like a difficult book, though, Sandinista!’s rewards are there for those who make the effort.

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