Perhaps one of the first punk albums I ever enjoyed, London Calling provides a bracing account of musicians articulating their disdain for the systems in the world that keep some people in power while keeping the majority down. I was told once that the first punk band to hit the scene was the Tacoma based group from the 60’s called The Sonics. While some songs like Strychnine support this narrative, The Sonics still don’t sound as though they’ve truly broken into the world of punk. The Clash however is the first band I have discerned as being true punks, with aggression and agitation being communicated through a highly emotive Joe Strummer.

I still remember the first time I listened to The Clash, however perhaps that’s an invalid statement since I’m sure Should I Stay Or Should I Go off of Combat Rock is played everywhere. The first time I remember listening to The Clash was in Chris Mcginley’s car. Mr Mcginley was one of my favorite teachers, teaching me writing, history, and baking. In the car, Chris Mcginley, Emmet Allen, his brother Leland, and I were on the way to a schoolwide retreat I still remember Chris being impressed by Emmet’s music knowledge as he hooked up his iPod and played some songs from London Calling.

To me, The Clash is a perfect band through and through. They use their voices to call out unjust systems, push music to new heights, and every who has interacted with the band articulates how kind Joe and the group were. I met a man in the music industry once at Pop’s bar that told a very personal anecdote to me and his friends that included an interaction with Joe Strummer in which Joe told the man to call him Uncle Joe. The progressive style of The Clash as well as their ability to promote other music styles and artists outside of the confines of what was popular such as hip hop and reggae helps solidify them as one of the best bands of all time in my mind, as their influence on music can’t be overstated.

London Calling, the opening songs and title tune, is immediately recognizable, with that bold and brash downstroke announcing a tune made to stir things up. I find the far away fields and landscape that is being articulated to evoke the grey and dreariness that is synonymous with England and contrast well with the sinister tones of this song’s instruments and vocals.

This album covers everything from envy of lovers and mistreatment of relationships in Brand New Cadillac, to the Spanish Civil War in Spanish Bombs, to one of my favorites, Lost In The Supermarket. I’m sure this song has some deeper meaning to it, but when I hear it I imagine how internal and preoccupied one must be to get lost in the most predictable spaces out there.

Two other songs I love are Death Or Glory and Train In Vain. Death Or Glory for me provides this beautiful insight stating that there’s no glory in death, and even if there was, you’re not going to be around to imbibe in it. At the same time, there’s no alternative but to strive for glory at all costs. In the end, regardless of if something is your live’s passion, it’s just another story. Train In Vain is perhaps the most poppy song on the album, providing me with an upbeat sad song, discussing the failing relationships that we all experienced some point or another. While a relationship can’t exist unless both parties are emotionally invested and attached, Train In Vain elucidates the pain that can result from promises of forever.

In January of this year (2023) I visited Fields down in LA, where I had an absolutely lovely time. One morning with Paul us three went down to the West Hollywood farmers market and had some amazing Saint Simon Oysters (AKA Little Saints). Walking back to the car we stopped inside a record store, where after browsing for a while I picked out a copy of Feats Don’t Fail Me Now by Little Feat, a band that makes me think of Spencer Parsons! I remember spotting an original copy of London Calling behind the register on a wall. After much internal conflict, I decided it was too pricy to buy. As we were standing outside rearing to leave, I was overcome with the feeling that I was going to regret leaving that record behind. Now I look at the iconic photo of Paul Simonon smashing his bass next to the Elvis Presley album sporting the same font and colors every day. It’s a beautiful way to see how quick rock music evolved in the 23 years between these albums.