The (Dogmatic)Clash

Mike Musilli

The Clash will forever be an unstoppable force. They stand atop an exclusive temple of punk and rock gods. They are the forbearers of ethically conscious working-class music. Beloved across the world and across time. These are just the undeniable facts.

However. What if there are some glaring inconsistencies with our accepted view of The Clash? What if we’ve missed the mark on who they were, what they represented and what they offered the eternal library of music? Dare I say we’ve given The Clash too much credit? Have we over-romanticized The Only Band That Ever Mattered?

No one ever talks about the tragically disastrous Cut the Crap when reminiscing about The Clash’s catalogue. Even Sandinista is often conveniently overlooked. The hard truth is that the double-disc fell egregiously short of expectations. And instead of being their great flight upward, it became self-indulgent concept album funk rock. What we do remember was the flawlessness of London Calling, the youthful angst of the self-titled record, the rebounding funk punk of Combat Rock, and even the inconsistent awesomeness of Give ‘Em Enough Rope. And we remember those albums fondly and fiercely.

It’s in those other convenient lapses in memory though that one calls into question that maybe, just maybe, we’ve created some dogmatic veneration for The Only Band That Ever Mattered. Did we cultivate an undeserved mythology here? Did we build these men into rock gods despite their ardent distaste for that very idolatry?

Songs like “Should I Stay or Should I Go” and “Rock the Casbah” are used more and more frequently in advertising that targets middle-aged adults. Clever nods to a band that punks-gone-normie hold in sentimental regards? Probably. And yet we deify Strummer and his boys as the untouchably perfect punk band. Socially conscious. Gritty. Full of rebellion. So then why should they get a pass when their songs are used to manipulate just those ideas to sell sports cars and advertise hotel websites?

I mean, they’re the safe bet answer to the always unfair, “Who’s your favorite band?” If you’re a young punk, dropping The Clash suggests you’ve got your historical accounting in order. If you’re an old timer, dropping The Clash only reinforces your badge as a well-seasoned elder statesmen. Does that cheapen their name though? I mean, who would ever want to think of Simonon, Jones, Strummer, and Headon as the safe bet? Not to mention name-dropping those boys as your favorite punk band willfully ignores their collective ambivalence to the modern punk scene at large.

There was the awkward interview on Mtv in which a middle-aged Strummer could recall only Green Day and Blink-182 as great punk bands. If it weren’t for Tim Armstrong’s on-air cajoling, Strummer would’ve never thought to name-drop some of the more streetwise bands like Agnostic Front and Sick of It All. So what are we to make of that? He’s certainly entitled to move and progress past genres. But is there something disenchanting about how detached that interview seemed to show Strummer was from the sound and genre that embraces him to this very day? Let’s be honest here, most any other punk rock icon would be judged and punished accordingly for such heinous trespasses.

We have Mick Jones’s Big Audio Dynamite to consider too. He certainly jumped right into the mid-80s synth pop scene without hesitation. And if we’re considering the legacy of The Clash and its members, we’re right to worry here. One need look no further than BAD’s “The Bottom Line” or “Rush” (and their videos) to be aghast out how far Mick Jones estranged himself from the punk underground.

So what we are left with here are some icky and inconvenient truths about The Clash. And so what?

When I got my first CD player at thirteen years old, my pops gave me two discs from his collection: Eric Clapton’s Unplugged and The Story of The Clash, Volume One. To this day I love Eric Clapton. But that Brit never had a chance. The other Brits, though, changed who I was and who I became as a person.

At thirteen, I simply couldn’t appreciate the lyrical depth or the musical creativity. But I couldn’t get enough of the stories laid out in the forty-page booklet that accompanied the double-disc retrospective. The narrative recounted the rise and fall of an apparently unassuming group of angry and disenchanted young men with a visceral social and political flag to wave. It was intoxicating and refreshing.

The story of The Clash didn’t speak to me. It screamed at me. The Clash affirmed so many of my developing perspectives on the world, and they influenced so many others. My appreciation of their lyrics and music would continue to sharpen, even to this very day. These too are just the undeniable facts.

And maybe it’s somewhere in that story that none of their missteps or contrivances or apparent punk rock transgressions matter to me, or to any of us. The Clash are ours. Sure people not of our underground listen to and love them. But not in the same way that we do. Our love is as fierce today as I’m sure it was some thirty six years ago. Their influence has never waned because it is our genesis story. Without The Clash, we don’t have punk music. And as we are oft to do in our musical neighborhood, we defend The Only Band That Ever Mattered with all our might and angst. For good reason too. The Clash will continue to shape and change our lives. I mean, right now there’s a young kid listening to “I’m So Bored with the USA” for the first time, feeling that same electricity we too have all felt. And maybe even more endearing is that right now there’s an old man listening to “Train in Vain” for the millionth time, remembering that electricity he felt the first time he’d found The Clash.

So do we canonize The Clash as our punk rock saints erroneously? Do we consistently build them into something they aren’t? Maybe. But maybe their divinity is born out of their ability to help us forget those embarrassing moments by having offered us some of music’s most timeless and socially conscious songs. A good friend once opined that for every “Train in Vain” pop song The Clash offered the public at large, they offered those willing to listen a bit more closely countless other songs that the true believers could hold close to their hearts forever. And those songs tell the truest story of The Clash. Those songs forever remind us that The Clash are absolutely the only band that ever mattered. Those songs are forever.

So dogmatism be damned. The Clash forever.