Clash didn’t like spit but showed polish

Press, 9 February 1982, Page 6

Clash didn’t like spit but showed polish

By ]

DAVID SWIFT

. Better leave town if you only want to knock us

The Clash City Rockers nearly stopped the show during their second song at the Town Hall last evening. The singer, Joe Strummer, was furious at being subjected to a hail of “gob” (spitting) from the so-called “punk” section of the diverse crowd, which rallied to an entertaining set from England’s veterans of the new (?) music.

“I caught hepatitis once,” he screamed. Got the message, kids? Right, here we go (the showers stopped). . . . The Clash dressed, sounded, and acted exactly like I expected it to do. Which did not mean that the show was predictable. But a rebel stance is a rebel stance, right down to the last Rising Sun armband. Three chord thrash? Not these days. Although the bassist, Paul Simenon, had his instrument strapped low ’n’ mean, just like the'good old days.

"Topper” Headon, the drummer, was the musician who impressed the most. He seems to have a mastery of most styles, including rockabilly and reggae. Strummer pranced on wearing one of the worst looking guitars in history, but he played its heart out. Which rhythm guitarist works harder? Mick Jones also dressed in rebel chic (black boots, wristband) played his lead parts with more invention than the recorded versions. Simenon looked basic, but, during reggaed numbers such as “Armagideon Time” and “Bankrobber,” his looks defied his ability. The repertoire? Again not a surprise, a mixture of old favourites, stretching as far back as “Garageland,” to “Sandinista” material, which also worked far better live than is sounded on disc. “Somebody Got Murdered,” off that album, was a highlight with a great extended opening, featuring just Headon and Jones.

“We’re a garage band, we come from garage land.” spat Strummer, and, although it isn’t the truth any more, the effort seems the same.

The concert volume was just a bit low, although I wouldn’t like to vouch for the people sitting under the speaker cabinets. But there was just a little something missing.

The Clash played for almost two hours, without any real encores. They took a break now and then, ran back, strapped on or sat behind their instruments, and (the occasional “one two three four” included), slammed out another one. The Clash arrived about three years too late. Imagine what the band would have sounded like when it really was in “garageland.” But thanks for coming anyway, and thanks too to the two university students who kicked Strummer, Jones, Headon and Simenon into coming. ; '