by Mick O'Shea
The Clash had taken to the Odeon stage sporting the new bowling shirts (once again designed by the group's in-house seamstress, Alex Michon) they were set to wear on the forthcoming UK tour. The shirts – predominantly black with front panels in contrasting colours – were worn rocker style with the sleeves rolled up high on the bicep and served to heighten Rob Harper's observation that The Clash live spectacle was akin to watching three Eddie Cochrans. When the time came for Mick to join the Blockheads, however, he'd changed into tight-fitting black leathers.
To compound his folly of donning leathers to play pantomimic popstar, just before going out on stage to join Dury, Mick ran across to Johnny Green and told him to 'stick a fag in me mouth' so as to complete his Brando-esque bad boy image.
Yet while Mick could easily shrug off Joe and Paul's grumblings as sour grapes, the NME's Paul Rambali referring to him as 'a lead guitarist of tireless vanity' whilst penning his review of The Clash's performance would have found a chink in his armour.
♪♪♪
The Clash had named the forty-date UK tour '16 Tons' after the Tennessee Ernie Ford song of the same name. It was meant as a tonguein-cheek reference to their owing their soul to the CBS company store, but the true irony lay in their ongoing failure to realise their worth. They might not have been the biggest group in the world in terms of record sales, but with three albums and two successful US tours under their belt they should have raised their game and booked bigger venues instead of returning to the same low-rent halls they'd played on the White Riot Tour some three years earlier.
As they had done in the US, The Clash were keen to have one of the acts that had proved an inspiration to them to serve as main support. Toots and the Maytals, the originators of 'Pressure Drop' – which had been a perennial feature in the set, and had also featured as the B-side to 'English Civil War' – were duly invited only to pull out again offering neither explanation nor apology just days before the tour was set to commence. Following some frenzied phone calls, Joe Ely was drafted in to play the last ten dates, whilst renowned reggae DJ, producer and toaster, Mikey Dread, was booked for the majority of the dates.
The Sixteen Tons Tour officially got underway at the Odeon in Canterbury the following night, but within days of their going back out on the road for real The Clash's policy of spending every available minute rehearsing, recording, or playing, began to exact a heavy toll. Jock Scott, another of the group's inner-circle associates, recalls Mick threatening to quit the tour early on, but although his mood was mollified on that particular occasion, he became increasingly withdrawn as the dates rolled by and rarely ventured out of his hotel room.
The flip side of embarking on another full-scale UK tour, of course, was that it put The Clash centre stage in terms of media exposure. This time around it wasn't only the music press who were keen to record the group's on-the-road shenanigans as the BBC's flagship early evening news magazine programme, Nationwide, sent a film crew along to the Caird Hall in Dundee (18 January).
Aside from footage of them performing 'Clampdown' and 'Revolution Rock', and walking from the coach to the hotel, the report featured Mick and Joe relating their respective brushes with the law during the Out On Parole Tour – and the accompanying police harassment (as they saw it) – before then laying out The Clash's VFM manifesto in that they'd released a double album for the price of a single, and kept ticket prices to an absolute minimum. To emphasise the point that The Clash were always willing to go that extra mile for their fans, the report finished with footage of Joe and Terry McQuade assisting ticketless youngsters in through the dressing room window.
What the Nationwide exposé failed to pick up, of course, was the slow-burning fuse on the fractious relationship between Mick and Joe that had been festering away since the Kampuchea benefit. With Paul – and possibly Topper – also believing Mick had been wrong to accept the guest spot with the Blockheads; it was only a matter of time that matters came to a head.
The Clash were catching their breath backstage at the Sheffield Top Rank (27 January), and with the South Yorkshire crowd baying for more, Joe suggested they really bring the curtain down in style by playing 'White Riot' at the end of the three-song encore. Mick refused point blank. To his mind, 1980 wasn't only a new year; it was the beginning to a new decade, and therefore high time they dispensed with 'White Riot', and the rest of the three-chord thrashers that made up the first album.
When speaking to Uncut some nineteen years after the events in Sheffield, Joe said how it was a coupling of Mick telling him he didn't respect the stage and hurling a vodka and orange in his face that had caused him to give Mick a smack in the mouth. When giving his version of events, however, Johnny Green makes no mention of Mick's put-down, or of his hurling a drink in Joe's face. Only that Joe 'slammed him [Mick] with his fist, full in the face.'2
Mick was supposedly still lying prostrate upon the dressing room floor when Joe, Paul, and Topper headed back out on stage, and Johnny says how he hurriedly helped Mick to his feet, wiped the blood from his face, and popped on a pair of sunglasses. Just what Mick or anyone else within The Clash's retinue would need of sunglasses in January, Johnny doesn't say, but their pal Mo Armstrong had sent over several FSLN* bandannas from San Francisco, and Johnny tied one of the red and black bandannas about the lower half of Mick's face before guiding him out towards the stage.
He was still clearly dazed, but Mick dutifully dropped note perfect into 'Garageland' and bounced about the stage throwing his customary shapes. However, while he ploughed into 'White Riot' with his usual gusto, at the end of the first verse he unslung his Les Paul, propped it against a speaker and strolled off stage.
Mick's show of defiance could well have led to further fisticuffs, but in typical Clash style, neither the backstage fight, nor his abandoning the stage during the encore, was ever mentioned; though a tacit reminder came with 'White Riot' being dropped from the set until much later in the tour.
♪♪♪
With 'London Calling' having given The Clash their best placing on the UK Singles chart to date (No. 11), Kosmo – aided and abetted by the group themselves – came up with the idea of launching a non-stop assault on the UK Singles chart by releasing a brand-new Clash single each and every month; the idea being that a new record would be issued once the previous single began dropping out of the chart.
With the 1 February date at the Victoria Hall in Stoke-on-Trent having been cancelled, and their having a couple of days off before the first of two consecutive nights at Manchester's Apollo Theatre, The Clash, together with Mikey Dread, Bill Price and Jerry Green (who'd both come up from London by train) set up home in Pluto Studios to record 'Bankrobber', which had been slated as the first of the mooted 'Clash Singles Bonanza'.
Surprisingly, not everyone was happy with The Clash's marketing strategy, as Mick explained. 'We had a big row at Heathrow airport with the head of CBS, Maurice Oberstein, who was there with his dog and lady chauffeur. He didn't want to put out twelve singles. But eventually "Bankrobber" came out in England, so we got one single out in twelve months.'3
CBS' reluctance to put out 'Bankrobber' stemmed – according to Paul – because they thought the mixes 'sounded like David Bowie backwards.' With the label flatly refusing to release the single, and The Clash doggedly refusing to record an alternate song, the ensuing stalemate killed off any hopes of the singles campaign.
CBS did eventually relent to releasing 'Bankrobber' in the UK (8 August), and despite minimal daytime airplay, coupled with The Clash's ongoing refusal to appear on Top Of The Pops, the single reached No. 12 on the chart. 'We'd never appear on Top Of The Pops because it was rubbish, so they got their [in-house] dance troupe, Legs & Co, to do a routine to it,' Mick said. 'They were all dressed up as bankrobbers wearing masks and hats and did a hilarious dance.'5
Two others who donned hats and masks in the 'Bankrobber' cause were Johnny Green and Baker who posed as villains faking a bank robbery on Lewisham High Street as part of D
on Letts' promo video. During the filming Don, Johnny, and Baker were stopped and questioned by the cops who reluctantly accepted their tale that they were 'art students working on a project for our final grades.' 'They (Johnny and Baker) were standing outside a bank wearing hats, long coats, and masks like gangsters from an American movie and the police pulled them because they thought they looked dodgy,' Mick chuckled. 'As if robbers would be that stupid!'6
On 27 February, Rude Boy received its premiere at the Zoo Palast, as the official British entry at that year's Berlin Film Festival. With the exception of Johnny Green and Baker – who'd both impishly disregarded Mick's order to the contrary – no one from either The Clash or Blackhill were in attendance. Their joint refusal stemming from The Clash having distanced themselves from the film – despite having pocketed some £2,550 of the £4,000 advance as per the contract the outgoing Bernard had signed with Dave Mingay and Jack Hazen back in October 1978. Also in accordance with the contract, the group would receive ten per cent of the net profits over £25,000.
Rude Boy received tepid reviews within the mainstream press, but the music critics were at least all agreed that the live footage of The Clash was worthy of the admission price. This didn't cut any ice with the group, however, and upon their return to London following the final date of the US leg of the Sixteen Tons Tour at the Motor City Roller Rink in Detroit, they sought an injunction to prevent the film being screened; their chief objection being the film's sub-plot which revolved around the experiences of a black youth being arrested for pick-pocketing, as they felt it reinforced the stereotype that all black teenagers were thieves.
Mingay would later defend the film's sub-plot by saying how four white kids such as The Clash could – in late-Seventies Britain at any rate – make a million pounds from misleading the youth, supporting drug-taking and creating anarchy, whereas a black kid would be arrested and imprisoned for stealing a quid.
At the time of The Clash's injunction, he and Hazen were left somewhat perplexed at The Clash's standpoint as the scenes in question were not only amongst the first to be shot, but were shot prior to their approaching the group to appear in the film.
As with the vast majority of rock 'n' roll films, The Clash's off-stage acting left much to be desired, they were musicians not actors after all.
When penning his review for the NME, Neil Norman opined that Mick 'is the actor playing his part to the hilt, whether it's on the steps of Clerkenwell Magistrates Court or in the studio laying down the vocal to "Stay Free"'.
Johnny Green, however, says Mick was unhappy at the way he came across on screen, and suggests this was due to Mingay and Hazen's going out of their way to create a huge discrepancy between Mick's self-image and his screen-image after tiring of his playing the rock star. 'I think what you see in the film is the result of their low opinion of Mick,' he says. 'There was some really nice stuff of him in the rushes, but that all ended up on the cutting room floor.'7
Rude Boy certainly didn't have much in the way of a storyline, but one of the more interesting sub-plots was Mick's obvious antipathy towards the seemingly hapless Ray Gange, who was only following direction from Mingay and Hazen.
The film struck a chord with Johnny Green as it allowed him the chance to sit back and really savour The Clash live experience free from the worry of things going wrong. Yet betwixt the Berlin premiere and the film's London airing Johnny had come to realise that very little was going wrong with The Clash of late. 'Train In Vain' had been released as a single in the US to coincide with the Sixteen Tons Tour and was doing nicely, while London Calling was shifting product on both sides of the Atlantic. That The Clash had become a streamlined operation was very much down to Johnny's competence, but it had been the map-cap, flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants roller-coaster ride that had made being with The Clash so much fun. In recent months he'd become increasingly bored by the predictability of it all, and with Kosmo having effectively taken over the more creative aspects of his role, he gave notice in Boston that he'd accepted a job working with Joe Ely in Texas.
With the European leg of the Sixteen Tons Tour set to kick-off at the Markthalle in Hamburg on 12 May, Johnny could have been forgiven for thinking Joe (whom he'd always been closest to within The Clash) would try twisting his arm into accompanying them on one last Bash Street Kids beano, but Joe merely shrugged it off with a casual 'yeah, alright'.
If Johnny was expecting a similar reaction from Mick he was in for a surprise, however. Despite his having pandered to Mick's every whim during the guitarist's pampered rock star phase, the two had never enjoyed a particularly close relationship and yet it was Mick who took Johnny's departure the hardest.
No sooner had The Clash served their injunction on Rude Boy, they accompanied Mikey Dread to Jamaica and booked time at the island's legendary Channel One studio in Maxfield Park; the idea being they might expand on the rock/reggae crossover they'd started back at Pluto whilst recording 'Bankrobber'.
Mikey had come to know the individual Clash members quite well by now. Perhaps not surprisingly, it was the reggae-loving Paul with whom he forged the closest bond, but though he came to understand Topper and Joe, he never quite got where Mick was coming from. 'I could never figure [Mick] out in all the time I was there,' he explained. 'He was the one who was picking on everyone else. I'm not being negative. He was a very chilled guy. But he was more like a superstar, you know?'8
Being in the company of Mikey Dread afforded The Clash a certain amount of protection, but with Jamaica in the grip of an economic meltdown that made Britain's financial woes seem a mislaid wallet, it wasn't long before the locals came a calling looking for handouts. After all, the Rolling Stones always ensured everybody had a dollar in their pocket whenever they were in town. The Clash could argue they were on a parallel with the Stones in musical terms, but they were poles apart financially. If it hadn't been for Blackhill managing to cajole CBS into providing money to cover the cost of the studio they wouldn't be there in the first place, and all other costs were being taken care of courtesy of Paul's girlfriend Debbie's credit card.
Of course, that mattered little to the local populace: The Clash were white men, ergo they had money. Though Mikey was himself threatened on occasion, he didn't think anyone would go so far as to physically harm the group. However, rather than risk being proved wrong, he advised his friends to pack up their gear and get the hell out of Dodge.
With Paul set to fly up to British Columbia to commence filming on All Washed Up, rather than head for the airport immediately, the group further availed themselves of Debbie's credit card unwinding with Mikey in Montego Bay until it was time for Paul to dust off his equity card.
London Calling was still riding high in the charts on both sides of the Atlantic, but while Blackhill believed themselves to be a forward thinking management company, they were still old school enough to insist The Clash have a new album out in time for the pre-Christmas shopping frenzy. Paul was in Vancouver with Steve Jones and Paul Cook giving the camera a taste of how the Sex Pistols' backline might have looked had Bernard and Malcolm been allowed to carry out their Machiavellian scheme, but Mick, Joe, and Topper – with Mikey Dread and Bill Price also in tow – flew to New York and settled themselves into the Power Station on 53rd Street where they messed around giving the Clash treatment to songs such as the Equals' 'Police On My Back', and Prince Buster's 'Madness'.
With the constant lack of money something of a continuing thread in The Clash story, one has to wonder why they flew out to New York when a recording studio closer to home would have equally suited their purpose – especially as the money CBS had provided for the Power Station sessions lasted but a few days? Rather than return home the group compounded their lunacy by begging CBS to allow them to remain in New York.
What was even more surprising, however, was that Maurice Oberstein relented to their cap-in-hand demands and released sufficient funding for Kosmo to secure a cut-price, three-week block booking at Jimi Hendrix' old haunt
, Electric Lady, on West 8th Street. What Oberstein didn't know at the time of signing the cheque was that in-betwixt all Kosmo's transatlantic pleadings Mick and Joe had formulated a new battle strategy… and when the temporarily-truncated Clash set up house at Electric Lady, they did so to write and record the mooted new album.
♪♪♪
The behemoth that would become Sandinista! began with another transatlantic plea, this time requesting Mickey Gallagher's presence in the studio. Mickey was also asked to bring over his fellow Blockhead Norman Watt-Roy as Paul was still away filming. While awaiting the two Blockheads arrival, Mick and Joe put the word out on the street that they were keen to meet with Ivan Julian; the ex-Voidoids' guitarist having obviously impressed them on the Out Of Control Tour.
Thinking The Clash merely wanted to renew their acquaintanceship, Ivan dutifully dropped by the studio expecting nothing more than to wile away an hour shooting the breeze over a couple beers. However, on hearing the basic backing track to one of the new songs ('The Call Up') he grabbed up a guitar and jammed some chord changes over the main riff. In the two-and-a-half years since the Out Of Control Tour, Ivan would have monitored The Clash's career upward trajectory with more than a passing interest. He would have also gained an insight into the dynamic between Mick and Joe, and although he still regarded Joe as the group's anchor in terms of creativity, he was left in little doubt that Mick was the one calling the shots.