Once, when asked to comment on their appearance at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival, Grateful Dead lead guitarist Jerry Garcia, remarked:
‘Monterey (laughs) we were booked to the worst place on the bill – between The Who and Jimi Hendrix. Nobody even remembers we were there.’
Despite becoming merely a footnote in accounts of what transpired, the Dead, according to those who do recall, gave an agreeable performance – but sandwiched between two of the most seminal in rock history, it paled into insignificance.
The Clash Street Kids……………….
Such is the way with the first three albums of The Clash. The 1977 self-titled set is often feted as the best debut album of all time, while Rolling Stone magazine has declared their third LP, ‘London Calling,’ as the greatest of the 1980s (released late ’79 in the UK) – either way, that assessment brooks no argument from SAMTIMONIOUS.com.
Released in the middle of those two landmark recordings was ‘GIVE ‘EM ENOUGH ROPE’ (November 1978). Appearing to mixed reviews, it was maligned and then overshadowed by the monumental efforts that precede and then followed it.
But four decades later time felt ripe for re-assessment – an exercise that revealed it to be an important bridge, albeit a sometimes precarious one, between two towering peaks.
By the spring of 1978, eighteen months after punk had given rock the colossal shake-up it desperately needed, the scorched earth stance of its origins had begun to dissipate.
The compromised punk-pop sound of bands such as the Boomtown Rats and Blondie had come to represent a face of new wave accessible to mainstream radio – this in the wake of the Sex Pistols, who led the charge of the punk brigade, falling apart following a disastrous US tour at the start of the year.
From the original pioneers it left The Clash as sole standard-bearers – any doubts (doubts, about The Clash?) whether they wanted the responsibility or were capable of carrying the fight, completely dispelled with release of the ‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais‘ single in June 1978. Following a run of magnificent singles, interspersed with an unforgettable debut album, this punk/reggae, state of the nation address, took the themes of urban alienation and disaffected youth they had already explored, to unprecedented levels of wit and candour.
That a four-minute song could contain so much politics and passion was epic on its own – leaving aside the magnificent structure of the piece – one astounding lyrical couplet after another intensifying the message.
No need for ‘possibly’ or ‘arguably’ in the case of ‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais‘ – it is the supreme 45 of the 1970s.
As the DJ and film-maker Don Letts once said:
‘The Sex Pistols made you want to smash your head against the wall – The Clash gave you a reason to do it.’
Although Mickey Foote had managed to capture their swaggering energy with his production work on the debut LP, record company CBS suggested someone more technically accomplished be at the controls for the follow-up.
Assigned the task was American Sandy Pearlman, who had previously brought his sonic textures to the work of Blue Oyster Cult, their single ‘(Don’t Fear) The Reaper‘ testimony to his technical craft.
Indeed, much of the lasting criticism attached to ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope‘ is thrown at Pearlman and his precise expertise, his hook-up with The Clash deemed totally inappropriate given their differing approach to making records.
This, however, is to conveniently overlook the fact that almost half of the ten songs are the weakest material thus far produced by Clash songwriting pair and guitarists Joe Strummer and Mick Jones (Strummer the lyricist-in-chief).
When they come up with the goods, such as the three songs which open the album and the utterly brilliant ‘Stay Free‘ on side two, the production is not an issue – in fact it is hard to imagine these excellent tracks being recorded any better. What Pearlman cannot do is breathe life into the weaker stuff, although in the hands of a less exacting producer it may have sounded more spontaneous and as a result, slightly more effective.
At times ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope‘ sounds the least cohesive album made by the most recognisable Clash line-up – and that is down to Pearlman.
Drummer Nicky ‘Topper’ Headon, who replaced Terry Chimes shortly after release of the first album – elevating the musical accomplishment no end – and lead guitar player Jones, come out of the album with reputations greatly enhanced. Not so bass player Paul Simonon or rhythm guitarist and lead singer Strummer.
Due to his background, Pearlman is a dab hand at hoisting the drums and lead guitar to front and centre – but very often the bass is buried (when it can be heard Simonon actually plays very well, his reluctance to do take after take perhaps going against him).
Neither it seems, does Pearlman have much confidence in Joe Strummer as a singer, as on occasion his voice becomes lost in the mix, with some words almost inaudible – there have been suggestions since did this to counter what he felt was over-production.
Nevertheless, as the album opens The Clash come storming out with all guns blazing – ‘Safe European Home‘ being one of the most overwhelming opening songs of all time.
They do not so much burst from the blocks as blow them to pieces, Strummer penning his impressions of a trip he and Jones made to Jamaica in order to write songs for the album. The tale abounds with pertinent, pithy lines and given the Caribbean culture they had absorbed while residents of South and West London neighbourhoods, ‘The harder they come/The home of ol Bluebeat,’ must have been as satisfying to write as it is superb.
There is no let-up in the freneticism with ‘English Civil War‘ – an ominous depiction of society being split asunder by the far right and far left. ‘Still at the stage of clubs and fists,’ yells Strummer after the song has opened with a refrain from ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home,‘ an old American Civil War song. Hopefully those who decried it as posturing were not so smug less than two years later, when areas of several English cities were aflame due to community tensions.
Headon opens ‘Tommy Gun‘ with the most pronounced rat-a-tat drum attack since Keith Moon announced his arrival on ‘I Can’t Explain.’
Shifting attention to global terrorism, Strummer confirms his place as the most incisive, politically charged rock lyricist on the planet – and while not having the answers, he alone is giving out the information so we, the audience, can ask the questions.
After roaring through the first three tracks, the brakes are applied with ‘Julie’s In The Drug Squad.’
Recounting the story of an undercover (and subsequently highly-publicised) police drug-raid from earlier in the year, the lyric, full of ‘Lucy in the Sky‘ allusions is an engaging effort – only for the song to flounder beneath a jaunty, saloon-bar piano riff which lessens the impact, turning a perceptive piece of writing into more of a novelty number.
Side one closes with ‘The Last Gang in Town‘ – another song that fails to deliver on its good intentions. With the words sounding like a first draft, these observations on gang culture tend to overstay their welcome, the riffing at the end from Jones also a touch indulgent. On the debut album ‘Hate and War‘ and ‘London’s Burning‘ added together take less time to say roughly the same thing. Ironically, it is on this below-par offering, where Simonon is heard to best effect.
When the album was released, this track was held up by certain critics as an example of how The Clash had a tendency to self-mythologise. While in photographs they looked like a street gang, ‘The Last Gang in Town‘ title was taken completely out of context with the song – in fact, if they were guilty of fueling their own legend it comes in the final track ‘All The Young Punks (New Boots and Contracts)’ containing as it does the lines:
‘Everybody wants to bum a ride on the rock ‘n’ roller coaster/And we went out got our name on the small print on the poster.’
The closing song, along with ‘Guns on the Roof‘ and ‘Drug-Stabbing Time‘ are not without merit, although in the circumstances sound strangely under-developed and over-polished at the same time.
At such times Pearlman’s critics have a point, as slick wins out over spontaneity. The slashing guitar chords that open ‘Guns‘ have obvious similarities to the ‘Clash City Rockers‘ single and therefore too Kinks/Who derivative to be overly original. The saxophone solo on ‘Drug-Stabbing Time‘ while sounding incongruous, serves as a lesson learnt – the instrument used to much better effect the following year on a couple of tracks on ‘London Calling.’
The penultimate cut ‘Cheapskates‘ makes a decent fist of responding to their critics, (‘Just because we’re in a group you think we’re stinkin’ rich/And we all got model girls sheddin’ every stitch’), yet it still feels there is a superior lyric and sharper performance lurking somewhere within.
But giving credit where it is due, nobody else was taking on the social and political subject matter Strummer was prepared to tackle – a single call to arms from him worth more than the entire career of a thousand other bands.
Ironically the most fondly remembered song on ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope‘ is not a rallying cry, but the touching Mick Jones masterpiece ‘Stay Free.’
Beginning with childhood memories, it becomes an open letter to a friend serving time in prison, (‘I practiced daily in my room/You were down The Crown plannin’ your next move’). Moving through a series of Mott the Hoople-influenced chord progressions, it builds to a poignant climax – the siren inflections from a ringing electric guitar adding one final twist of inspiration.
So, over forty years after it first appeared does a rock record, one that is flawed and inspiring in equal measure, really warrant an appraisal of 1,800 words (and counting)?
In my head and heart the answer, naturally, is yes. Admittedly ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope‘ is not the finest work in The Clash canon – yet when it soars, they not only sound the most essential group of the time, but the most essential rock band of any era.
Nineteen years into the 21st Century it is not hard to convince anybody of how magnificent The Clash were (the albums and documentaries are testament to that). But in an age dominated by mobile phones, computer games and all manner of other distractions occupying the young, the most difficult thing is conveying just how vital and compelling they were.
Dubbed ‘the only band that matters,’ for once the publicity slogan was not in any way misleading.
From the standpoint of middle-age this may sound an over-romanticised view of a group, who in essence, had broken up before the 80s were half over – but not only did The Clash matter, they made it feel you did too.
All this time later, nothing – not even the thin spots on ‘Give ‘Em Enough Rope‘ – suggest otherwise.
THE CLASH – GIVE ‘EM ENOUGH ROPE (Released November 10 1978)
Safe European Home/English Civil War/Tommy Gun/Julie’s In The Drug Squad/Last Gang In Town/Guns On The Roof/Drug-Stabbing Time/Stay Free/Cheapskates/All The Young Punks (New Boots and Contracts);
This article is respectfully dedicated to those who attended UK Clash gigs at Wolverhampton Civic Hall in December 1978 and the June 1980 show at The Victoria Hall, Hanley – also to the cherished memory of Joe Strummer (1952-2002). It was first published on 17/7/2019.
NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of ‘MONTY’S DOUBLE‘ – an acclaimed thriller now available in paperback and as an Amazon Kindle Book.
