Almost as soon as Joe returned to Hampshire from Rockfield, something unexpected happened. Gaby and the kids had gone up to London for the weekend. On the Saturday afternoon of 8 May 1993, Amanda Govett called up Joe and said she was taking her children and a friend to a nearby funfair. Did he want to come? ‘I had gone down to stay with Amanda Govett with my daughter Eliza for the weekend,’ said the then Lucinda Henderson. ‘It was a miserable, grey Saturday, and Amanda said there was a funfair in Andover, and suggested we took the kids because there was nothing else to do. We got in the car, and she said, “I’m going to go and see if Joe wants to come, because I know he’s alone.” So Amanda went into the house and asked him. It was strange. Joe was enjoying the house: Gaby had gone up to London with the kids. He was just thinking, “Phew, I’ve got the house to myself and some space.” But something made him say, “I’ll come.” He got in the front seat. I was in the back. She turned round to introduce us, and our eyes met and that was that.
‘We went to the funfair and it was drizzly and cold. We walked round the fair together and he shot all the bulls-eyes and got all the ducks and all the teddies – Eliza had a mountain of this stuff. We just got on really, really well.
‘I wasn’t a Clash fan. I was into Dexy’s Midnight Runners and Blondie. I knew the Clash, but I wasn’t a fan – I wasn’t cool enough. But I just felt at ease with him. We just talked and he amused me, and flattered me, I suppose, but not in a flirty way but in an intellectual way. He made you feel you had something to say and were interesting and great to be with. He made you feel you were the most important person in the world. I loved being with him. We saw each other over the weekend. Two weeks later I was again staying with Amanda – I was a godmother at a local christening. I took Eliza for a walk and Joe rang up the house and asked where I was – unheard of, this was about ten in the morning. Amanda said I’d gone for a walk. Joe came and found me. We’d had no physical contact at all. And he just went to hug me, and it was completely, utterly electric. And I knew that something was going to happen. He wasn’t predatory, and he wasn’t greedy. I just completely fell under the spell which is Joe.
‘But he was down. He said he’d put his heart and soul into Earthquake Weather and had had no tour support from CBS. And that he’d come back home after the tour and felt like a failure. He was really down.’
Lucinda Tait had been born on 15 June 1962 and grown up in West London; her father was an architect who’d been an officer in the British Army and her mother had been a model. Joe was forty. ‘That’s not too old for you, is it, baby?’ he asked her. Not too old for a single woman, but this was not what Lucinda was: she had been married for ten years to James Henderson, who, almost inevitably, had been one of the 200 drummers who auditioned to take over from Terry Chimes in 1977. They had a daughter, Eliza, born on 5 January 1992, and had been the previous tenants of Bransbury Cottage, rented for five years as a weekend retreat from their London home in Fulham.
‘Joe didn’t talk about the past,’ said Lucinda. ‘I don’t think it was because he was hiding or covering anything up. It was because he lived in the day. There were never any war stories. He’d never say, “Oh, I was hanging out with Ronnie Wood …” It was never about famous musicians, but what people had to offer you as a person. He was on a constant thirst for knowledge. And he didn’t use that ever to belittle people. He would listen, like he’d heard it for the first time. The stories that he told were about interesting people he had met. “I met a baker. I sat up all night with him. And he told me how to cut bread, that you always put a loaf on its side.” Or, “I met this guy and he worked in a factory and made nuts and bolts, and he told me …” He told me, “I’ve learnt never to have opinions.” He was genuinely open-minded. I think he’d learned to be open-minded. So many things that he’d been taught by his parents, or that he’d learned in the early days of The Clash, didn’t hold water. Everyone was different and there were always two sides. And he’d always say, “Think it through, think it through.” I’m a hothead when I get cross. But he’d always say, “Think it through.”’
Joe and Gaby and Paul and Tricia had been invited to the British Grand Prix on 11 July at Silverstone; when they returned to London, Gaby went back to Hampshire while Joe stayed the night at Paul’s. Tricia had noticed that recently Joe had arrived on their doorstep more frequently. He needed an alibi as his journeys to London had one purpose: to see Lucinda. Very soon after he had met her Joe had confided in Paul what had transpired in his life. ‘Don’t tell a living soul, not even Tricia,’ he had admonished. Paul kept his lips sealed. The day after the Grand Prix, Joe asked Tricia to have lunch with him. ‘We went to 192. When he wanted to say something, he liked to buy you a bottle of champagne in 192. Walking there with him, he said to me, “Everyone’s staring at us.” I said, “That’s because of you, you silly arse.” At lunch he told me about Lucinda. He said he was thinking of bailing out from Gaby. He was worried I was going to judge him and fall out with him. I said I was not judging anyone’s relationship, because there but for the grace of God goes anyone’s. I’ve never fallen out with Mick or Daisy. It’s not my business, because no one really knows what goes on between two people. It was as though a weight had come off his shoulders. We had a good chat.’
A couple of days later Joe drove over with Gaby in their Renault Espace to Winchester, where Danny Thompson was playing with his group. ‘Afterwards he came up to me and gave me a big cuddle and said, “I think it’s a bit too clever for me.”’
Within days, Joe and Gaby were at Paul’s place, to go to a party in Fulham. They went with Paul and Tricia, driving over in Paul’s Mitsubishi jeep. At the party was a blonde girl, with a bobbed haircut, wearing a hat. ‘That’s her, isn’t it?’ Tricia said. ‘How did you know?’ said Joe. ‘If it’s that obvious to me, you’ve got to tell Gaby,’ said Tricia.
The four of them left the party, Paul at the wheel of his jeep. ‘Joe decided to tell Gaby about Lucinda in the back of our car on the way home from the party,’ remembered Tricia. ‘They were both staying at our house. Thanks, Joe! I didn’t mean now, in the back of our car. He’s a coward – he did it because we were there. Poor Gaby. She wasn’t even in her own home. We got back to our place, and she went to bed. I wanted to give them privacy, but Joe doesn’t want you to leave the room – he wants you to stay. I think Gaby knew. It wasn’t the first time she had heard such a thing about Joe, so she took it better than some people might.
‘She went back to the country the next day, and Joe stayed. I said, “Go home. You can’t drop a bombshell like that and then stay in London for the weekend with us. Go home now, and fuckin’ sort it out.” I forced him out of the house.’
‘I didn’t go to the party with the three of them,’ Gaby recalled. ‘I had been for a psychic reading that afternoon where I was told he was having an affair, which could account for his sudden interest in doing laundry. I arrived at the party alone and confronted him. After his admission I left, stunned, and went to spend the night with friends, still oblivious to the fact that it was Lucinda. Joe would not let on to her identity, as he was protecting her, as she had not yet decided if she would leave James. He turned up later that night at my friend’s house and slept on the floor next to me. We agreed to meet the next evening for dinner to talk. It’s amazing other people’s recollections: I think in this instance I would remember what happened.’
But a Strummer family summer holiday in San José had already been arranged. Nothing was going to get in the way of that, not even such an impending guillotine chop as a marriage break-up.
Joe’s own actions in San José rendered any reconciliation impossible. Although Paul and Tricia had not been scheduled to go on this holiday, Joe phoned them incessantly, insistent they come to Spain, telling them he was spending all his time finding them somewhere to stay. Having such a job to do rescued Joe from having to spend time with his family. ‘Paul and I went out with little Louis, our eighteen-month-old son, and Joe was hanging
out with us a lot,’ said Tricia. ‘There was lots of alcohol. It was always, “You lot are OK here. Me and Paul are going to see my friend in such-and-such a bar. We’ll be back.” He’d take Louis with him. Is that some sort of security blanket?
‘There were times when you’d go down in the morning and one of the kids would say, “Look what Joe gave me for breakfast: a lollipop.” Anything for a quiet life is really what it was. It doesn’t matter that it’s 7 in the morning: “I’ll give them lollipops.” The man was incapable of saying no to children. But don’t do that to my kids.’
Despite his behaviour with the children, Joe himself didn’t immediately get into the spirit of beach life. At first he would lie on the sand, tightly buttoned up, dressed in black jeans and black shirt; as time wore on he relaxed more about this, taking off his uniform and swimming and splaying out in the sun. Gaby was largely oblivious to Joe’s machinations. Resigned to the end of their relationship, she tried to largely ignore him in San José and make the best of her time there with the girls.
Jem and Marcia Finer would be in San José each summer, having been going there even longer than Joe and Gaby. ‘I was there at the split-up,’ said Marcia. ‘Right after it had all come out, I was having a meal with them and Gaby went to the lavatory. I was left with Joe. He said he was worried she’d get involved with some deadbeat and he’d have to pay – very practical. I said I very much doubted it. I said to Joe, “Don’t feel too bad. She’s been sick of you for years.” He looked both relieved and hurt. She came back, and then he went to the loo. I told Gaby I’d said a terrible thing to Joe, but she thanked me and said she had been sick of him for years. After the split I talked with Joe about coping strategies and non-coping strategies, and he said, “I’ve got to survive.” I don’t think he had such an easy time loving himself. I remember something he said, when we were talking about depression, that that stock line about having to learn to love yourself first is narcissism.’
While Joe was in San José that summer of 1993, the Pogues – who by now to all intents and purposes had split up – were surprised to find they had a hit record. Jem had to fly back to London to appear on Top of the Pops. When he returned three days later, he learnt of the splintering relationship. ‘It all sounded pretty mad. But separating was probably much better for Gaby. I don’t think it was better for Joe. It was quite destructive. He threw himself to the wall in a sense.’
A few days after this complex Spanish sojourn, Joe was in New York, conferring with Sara Driver. When Pigs Fly had financial difficulties. While in Manhattan Joe visited Kosmo, not breathing a word about the romantic developments in his life. Kosmo had been stimulated by the success of the film music sessions to consider there could be further trips by Joe to the recording studio. ‘I wanted to keep the momentum going. Joe seemed a little revitalized. When Pigs Fly had gone fairly smoothly, so I was thinking we could exploit that. I thought the film-jazz and the beat thing might be a way to go, if we could also get a contemporary remix. Joe was very dubious about remixes, but I was thinking of getting someone from Sting International, the Brooklyn reggae studios.’
To play on these new sessions, set for another four-day period at Rockfield at the end of September 1993, Kosmo again enlisted Danny Thompson; he also brought in Aaron Ahmun, a session drummer with a strong reputation. Kosmo wanted to use only these two musicians at Rockfield, to maximize the minimalization. Joe spoilt Kosmo’s plan, pulling in a couple of musicians who’d played on When Pigs Fly. ‘If it had been the bare thing I wanted,’ said Kosmo, ‘Joe would have been more involved. I think Danny was too much pressure for Joe. His reputation was such, just being there was hard for Joe. There was pressure for him, seeing Danny Thompson sitting around waiting.’
It was evident to Danny Thompson that, after the success of the April sessions, these September recording dates were ‘anti-climactic’. ‘We turned up and there was nothing planned for the second sessions. It was a pity after the first sessions, which were brilliant.’
Joe did have one new song, ‘Forbidden City’, but couldn’t work out a satisfactory arrangement. He was not focused, disappearing for twenty-four hours as another domestic crisis exploded. Even when he was in the studio, said Kosmo, ‘it was fairly obvious that Joe wasn’t really there. There was a lot going on on the home front. The sessions didn’t really work out.’
But on one tune they came close to Kosmo’s movie-jazz beat template. ‘The Cool Impossible’ was a tune Joe worked up in the studio, a meandering, moody, piano-based tune, a song about a past success: ‘Because they’re sick of hearing about it all / So rev your motorcycles and piss against the wall / I know about a man who lost it all / Suddenly it all becomes probable / possible / a certainty surely / When you’re riding on the crest of a wave / You’re riding to the top of the world / You’re throwing cool shapes and you’re letting it spin / When you’re riding on the crest of a wave / To the stone cold cool impossible.’ He keeps repeating it: ‘When you’re riding on the crest of a wave / You’re riding to the top of the world / You’re throwing cool shapes and you’re letting it spin / When you’re riding on the crest of a wave.’ These last lines conclude the song. For Joe knows that when the wave crests it must fall. ‘I thought “The Cool Impossible” sounded very where he was,’ considered Kosmo. ‘The lyrics are amusingly telling. I was very keen on him writing in that vein. I don’t think he was keen to go down that path. We did half a dozen tracks but “The Cool Impossible” was the only one that we really got. I was applying the wrong pressure and we ended up with this music that Joe didn’t really want and I didn’t really want. He left me on my own one afternoon. He said, “I’ve got to go somewhere, so you do it the way you think.”’
25
THE EXCITEMENT GANG
1993–1997
Joe and Gaby had now split up. ‘I wasn’t necessarily prepared to leave James, because I knew James loved me, and we’d been together since we were 16. I was 30 at the time,’ said Lucinda. ‘So it was a helluva risk. Joe said, “I’m moving out of the house anyway.” He rented a house nearby on the Guinness estate, Ivy Cottage, in Heckfield, near Basingstoke in Hampshire, which Hugo Guinness [scion of the Irish brewing family] had available. So the onus wasn’t, “Let’s leave our respective partners and set up home.” He was going to do it anyway. And he did. And about two days later, I joined him. I literally walked out of the house with Eliza and a few clothes. That was it. It was in September – late in September. When he moved in to Ivy Cottage, I said, “Where are all the suitcases?” There weren’t any: just plastic bags. I arrived and there were plastic bags everywhere.
‘Also, he was adamant that he wanted to marry me. Which was lovely, because I knew he hadn’t married before. I definitely felt there was a commitment there. He said that right from the beginning. So I didn’t feel I was just flavour of the month. Or being used to get out of an unhappy relationship. I knew that he genuinely loved me.’
With the stipulation that he could keep his shopping-bags archive from the basement, Joe gave 37 Lancaster Road to Gaby, although she had to take on the remaining mortgage on the property. Some considered this unrealistic: Gaby had never worked and didn’t have a job. No lawyers were involved in their separation. Some years previously Micky Gallagher, who had played keyboards onstage with the Clash during their middle period, had taken legal action against them, claiming that he had contributed towards the songwriting on the Sandinista! material that he and Blockheads’ bass-player Norman Watt-Roy had worked on in New York. ‘Joe was so upset about that,’ said Gaby. ‘It meant endlessly paying out to lawyers. We decided to keep away from the legal profession when we were breaking up and do it ourselves.’
There were small signs of a return to a creative life. On 16 April 1994 Joe Strummer performed live for the first time since he had played with the Pogues; the show was in Prague, a Rock for Refugees charity event; Joe played Clash songs with a local group called Dirty Pictures. Largely, though, Joe was lying fallow. ‘We had a
year of him doing absolutely nothing, workwise,’ said Lucinda. ‘He took me to New York to meet Kosmo, who he introduced to me as his manager. And to LA to meet Gerry Harrington. But apart from that we were just living totally quietly in Hampshire. We had a few friends down from London. And we’d go to London, for dinner and whatever. But he didn’t really work at all. He said, “Enjoy it. Because when I start, I’m really going to start.” He said he was re-charging his batteries and he would start again. It was almost two years really, but he was always scribbling. Always a notebook, and always a constant stream of plastic bags. But I think it was random. There wasn’t anything specific.
‘He’d take the dogs for walks for hours. At Ivy Cottage, and in Hampshire at the Govetts. He loved walking, loved it, loved the dogs. I would certainly say that I never met anyone like Joe, who knew their own mind in the way he did, was comfortable in their skin in the way he was, and was completely happy the way he was. I’m sure he had regrets, and he definitely did harbour resentments about his parents and the school they sent him to. I said to him, “If you put yourself in their position and you think, we have an opportunity to send our sons to a decent public school which will get them a decent job, or we drag them round Malawi and Persia, I said I’m sure I would do the same thing.” And he said, “No, it was the wrong decision.” He was adamant about that. I think the parents did it for the right reasons. But he was miserable, he was unhappy, and obviously it was completely devastating for David. But I think Joe worked through all that.’
Redemption Song Page 58