Joe Strummer: The Only Man That Mattered
God Bless Joe Strummer. You were not a punk, you played punk, but you were a king
There are things I regret, many of which were/are beyond my control. I expect this is normal especially for other introspective and critical beings. At least I hope it is because otherwise I am in a very empty boat headed nowhere. So for temporary peace of mind I will pretend that I am surrounded by fellow questioning, reflective and even bizarre individuals. Since this is all in my mind I reserve the right to choose all topics of conversation and perhaps even send overboard those whose views I dislike. I know that is not very open minded of myself but hell, it’s my damn boat.
One common regret among those encapsulated in the wooden structure of thought, hopes, and disappointment would be that not one of us was born during the active reign of The Clash. Our conversation regarding the band would be entirely too lengthy to transcribe for you. After hours of lamenting our late births we would then move on to discussing the individuals members and what each brought with him. Given the recent passing of front man Joe Strummer it would only be fitting we begin our homage/discussion with him.
When speaking of Joe Strummer and The Clash the reference is to the pre-1983 years, with Mick Jones. Although they did not officially break up until 1985 without Mick Jones there is no perfect complement to Joe Strummer’s lyrics. All those in opposition are welcome to jump ship now. While there are others still aboard I will lead you only through my thoughts because I want to and because I am unable to accurately portray the Joe Strummer others saw or knew. I am afraid that if I misconstrue others’ opinions of the legend there maybe a mutiny and I will be cast aside by my lonesome, which is the very thing I am attempting to avoid.
His destiny was to inspire others during and after his lifetime. Joe Strummer was out starting the revolution before he was even in The Clash. In fact, it was after the 101’ers opened for the Sex Pistols that Mick Jones and Paul Simonon realized they were lacking a driving force, an essential element, and an instigator. They were missing Joe Strummer. I’ll spare you the history and changes in line-ups and start again from when The Clash was formed. With a clean start and new band mates Strummer was more than ready to spill his soul through his raw (as in not masked with aesthetics or unnecessary practice) voice and the amazing energy created by the band on the youth or anyone who would listen. Hell, he was ready to take over the world.
Unlike his punk counterparts the themes behind the songs he wrote were based on what affects everyday people. Tackling issues such as fascism, civil strife, war, terrorism, control etc. The songs were more than beautiful sounds blending together perfectly with the meanings and words. They were calls to action. Don’t get me wrong I am not saying that The Clash had hidden subliminal messages in their tracks, merely that their presence was so great that it changed people. It changed how people went about doing things; many began taking more active roles in diminishing the struggles of less capable individuals or groups, or simply questioning things and circumstances more than before.
The challenging and socially conscious albums that Strummer helped put out on the market served to a generation’s discontent. Not just to one specific generation’s angst because such works of art have largely affected my generation as well and I KNOW that generations to come will also be. Personally, I feel Joe Strummer’s passion in each word, his heartfelt emotion in each note, his indifference of precedents and expectations in the each melody of every song by The Clash. Unfortunately, I never had to chance to see him perform with the beloved Clash.
I suppose it is not my fault for being born the year the band was dismantled still I feel a big loss when I consider what it would have felt like to look up a few feet and see the faces of legends. The embodiment of an uprising through the streams of bitter sweat surging from four rebels…myself, inhaling every bit of genius, commitment, and rage I possibly can. How unbelievable would it have been to feel the idealistic wrath of Joe Strummer, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and Nicky Headon pounding through your very being and churning through your veins? Alas, all I can do is imagine.
Though I whine about not being able to go to a Strummer show, I am perfectly aware that he had been touring quite recently with his band, Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. Truth be told it was not apathy but lethargy on my part. I had this odd feeling that they would be touring for years to come so I would postpone seeing every time there was a show nearby. For this I can only blame myself and not my late conception. My limited knowledge of Joe Strummer comes from his lyrics and music and what they evoke in me. My loyalty to him was established through technology, my CD player. I will always be grateful for the pure and eternal relationship I have with him be it through records.
Currently, I find myself feeling motivated and obligated to find obtain a Mescaleros album, spin it, and absorb all I can from the last gifts left to the world by Joe. I am going to find refuge and venture to shore in attempt to pacify this longing. I suggest the rest of those still in the boat do the same. As we wade through the bullshit, bad music and other distractions that await us in this overwhelming sea I will leave you with the words of Jakob Dylan:
“God Bless Joe Strummer. You were not a punk, you played punk, but you were a king.”