I found a copy of a “London Calling” LP at a yard sale when I was about thirteen years old. I took it home, put it on my mom’s old turntable and it changed the way I think about music forever. Funny how a mind can be blown away and haunted by something as simple as a baseline.
Leafing through this huge coffee table book makes me happy. “The Clash by the Clash” is a gorgeous, massive collection of photos, copies of setlists, flyers, ticket stubs and other memorabilia, with plenty of anecdotes from the members of the band themselves, as well as various people from their entourage. I have always loved pictures from that era of punk: everything looks grimy, people are disheveled, the outfits are crazy, nothing is glamorous at all, but there is a vibrancy and an energy that you feel looking at those images that none of the polished pop stars of today could ever hope to match. The Clash were an especially (bizarrely) photogenic band, and I love to linger on the concert and backstage shots in this book. I also love the humour and humility in the stories told by Strummer, Simonon, Jones and Headon: while the Clash imploded badly in the mid-80s, those guys have no hard feelings towards each other, and seem only too happy to reminisce about their years as the “only band that mattered”.
Obviously, this is for the hardcore fans who can’t get enough Clash fixes – so maniacs like me. But anyone curious about the legendary band might enjoy browsing this oral history. It is not a complete biography or in-depth analysis, but it’s a fun exploration of a seminal and chaotic period of music history that truly changed rock and roll.