Clash
London Calling
Punk rock hit a 15 year old kid hard. Never able
to appreciate the soundscapes and sophisticated, huh, music of
Genesis, Yes, and ELP that my classmates feted, I found refuge in
the poppier sound. So, to me,
the short sharp
shock of punk was a revelation. I was soon immersed in the music. The
Pistols, Buzzcocks, Sham 69, Valves, X-Ray Spex, Siouxsie And The
Banshees, Jam, Stranglers, Another Pretty Face, Lurkers, Skids,
Undertones and The Clash all flowered in a short period of time. Not
all were punk, but they all made great simple music and most were
playing in small venues near me. Every penny was spent on great singles
and fabulous concerts. Boots For Dancing, The Freeze, Scars, Fire
Engines and TV21 were local bands that were devoured. Singles were what drove our love of the music; Teenage Kicks, Gary Gilmores Eyes, Damaged Goods and the like. Albums were a bit too long for my shortened attention span, and my budget. The Damned album was yeuuch and put me off. Bollocks was fabulous and the first Clash album inspirational, but a lot of the rest was patchy. So imagine the trepidation of a double punk album. Especially following the rank Give Em Enough Rope, London Calling was a worrying proposition. The London Calling single was great, but the double pack, even at single price, recalled horrible unlistenable triple sets by Yes or serious doubles by the likes of Tull and Genesis. A double album seemed to say our music cannot be constrained by only two sides.
First impressions were promising, the cover photo was iconic although the Elvis reference passed me by. The lyric sheets looked nice and the first single kicked it off nicely. From there on in each song was a classic. Sculpting myths from America, Spain and Brixton, each song on the first disc lived up to the previous song. The second disc was almost as good, and a bonus track as well. This was the real deal. An album that lived up to The Clash, but with more space.
The raucous sound of Brand New Cadillac and Hateful was balanced by the fragility of Lost In The Supermarket and Lover's Rock. This was a mature album that didn't lose the spirit of punk, and seemed to set up The Clash for world domination. It was not to be. Only rarely did they reach the same heights, Straight To Hell for example, but mostly they faded into mere shadows of themselves. Thank the lads that they left behind this masterpiece. It sounds so good turning rebellion into honey.