All language subtitles for The Clash - Westway to the World [2000]eng

It seems to me that origination
is perhaps instinct, not intellect.

In '68,
the whole world was exploding.

There was Paris,
Vietnam, Grosvenor Square,

the...counterculture...

It had an affect on me,
that kind of...

taking direct action.

I remember somebody shouting out,
"The Rolling Stones are on telly!"

And so we sort of cut across the
railways and went over to their house

and some bloke's
jumping around on the TV.

Street Fighting Man
We just accepted as a fantastic song.

The first records I bought with
my money was Jimi Hendrix Smash Hits

and also Disraeli Gears by the Cream.

I don't think we had the faculty

to take on board really
what it was saying.

The sounds that I remember hearing...

Was probably reggae, really.

I used to pass by a lot of houses

where there was
West Indian music playing.

I can remember hearing
Not Fade Away by The Rolling Stones

coming out of this huge wooden radio.

I did my first concer playing a
Beatles number with a tennis racket

on the front lawn of the block
of flats I lived at -

I was about 10 years old -
for all the people passing by.

My brother'd be in the room
with headphones on,

then he'd take the headphones off
and he'd been listening to Yes.

There'd be birds twittering. I'd go,
"God, what are you listening to? "

The Beatles, The Stones,
The Yardbirds, The Kinks...

It was a great year to come of age -
fantastic!

Maybe music became an escape for me.

I think it did to a cerain extent -
my parents used to fight a lot.

And my gran
used to take me downstairs -

they had a bomb shelter
in the basement of the flats.

My father was in the Foreign Office
and that's why I was born in Turkey.

She'd take me downstairs
and we'd wait for it to, like...

for the raid to pass.

And then I came to England,
to boarding school.

Because my parents had split up,

I was able to come and go
as I pleased.

My father pulled himself up
by his own intelligence.

He had a very big ethos of...
"You study!"

Playing on the railways, going into
people's houses, a bit of robbing...

I was living with my gran
and her sister and her sister-in-law.

So it was like three old ladies.

I often think about my parents
and how I must have felt about it.

Cos it was like being sent away.

I think I definitely have
a built-in self-preservation thing.

I just went straight
to the hear of the matter,

Which was, "Forget about your parents
and deal with this."

Authority is supposedly
grounded in wisdom,

but I saw from an early age that
it was only a system of control.

It didn't have any inherent wisdom.

When I went to see a concer,
I'd be like...checking it all out.

I was checking out what the drummer
was doing, the guitarist,

if they were gelling together,

if they had any kind
of telepathic communication.

I remember having a birhday party
and my mum said,

"You can have a party
for your friends."

We were sitting at the table and
I looked up and there's my brother

and I looked around
and every face was black.

And that's what made me realise
there's something different here.

Then The New York Dolls came along,
and they were everything.

They were incredible, the way
they looked, their whole attitude.

They didn't care about anything.

They were just more...
a group that was more about style.

I suppose when I was about 17,
I stared wondering about...

Well, this is not really my story -
even though it was in one way,

because that was my background.

I quickly realised that you either
became a power or you were crushed.

I went to art school
because I wanted to be a painter.

That was how I thought
you got into bands and stuff.

The last resort
of malingerers and bluffers

and people who don't want
to work, basically.

I didn't really meet that many
musicians. I was disappointed really.

It was one way
I could excel in the classroom.

I'd have kids coming up to me
and they'd go,

"Oi, Paul! If you don't draw this
for me, I'm gonna beat you up,"

or whatever, you know??

They weren't teaching us
to draw an object,

they were teaching us
to make a drawing

that looked like
We knew how to draw the object.

I was doing it for the grant really.

Cos you'd get that and then
you could buy more equipment.

Maybe the ar school thing
had messed me up too much already.

I just thought,

"I can't see myself for the rest
of my life doing this stuff.

"I've gotta do something
a bit more exciting."

I wasn't in any choir, I didn't learn
any instrument, nothing.

But we were fervent listeners.

Taking in music... It was before
I had any discrimination.

It seemed to be a mystical world
where only...

mythical beings could actually play.

We used to have
a careers officer at school.

I honestly did go in there and say,
"I wanna be in a band."

It wasn't like no creative choice.

You know what I mean?? It wasn't like
a vegetarian option on the menu.

When I managed to get some chords
together...

I was chuffed.

In '74, it did seem
like life was in black and white.

There were rows of buildings bought
up by the council and left to rot.

And that's what gave birh
to squatting.

If we hadn't had the squats -
A, for a place to live,

and B, we could set up a rock
'n' roll group and practise in them.

The first time I met Mick,
I went into this room

and there's these four guys
standing around.

And Mick's hair was really...
It was like this -

Iittle eye and nose looking through.

He looked so stunning
that we said, "Can you sing?? "

And then he said, "Try this song,"
and it was a Jonathan Richman song,

Which I was completely unaware of,
and they said,

"Oh, just sing 'radio on'"
or something. So I did.

I just ranted it non-stop
and that was the end of that.

The 101ers had been playing
for about two years

and by the time we reached Thursday
night at the Elgin we were flaming.

The place used to be packed.

What I remember is glasses smashing,
fighting, dogs running around.

I remember going to Mick's flat and
he was trying to show me this E chord

that went this way and went that way.

And after about an hour of complete
frustration on both sides

We decided to get hold of a bass.

I spent like a year in the bedroom
just playing along with records.

That's how I learnt.

I thought rather than
make it a hard job,

I'd get stickers and write A, B, G
and stick them on, and it was fine.

Mick would say G
and I'd go, "There's G."

"Up an octave, Mick...?? "

It was very much
Malcolm had the Sex Pistols

and Bernie was gonna go out
and get a group.

He was a really interesting guy,
Bernie, and he had a lot to say,

and we just sort of
struck up a relationship.

And then we saw Joe - the 101ers -
play the Nashville with the Pistols.

Five seconds into their first song

I just knew we were yesterday's
papers, I mean, we were over!

That was the moment when we realised
that Joe was the best guy out there.

I think we needed a fresh input.

And seeing Joe I think it crossed
all our minds about nicking him.

Bernie and Keith went to see him play
at the Golden Lion in Fulham,

and that's when they made the offer:?

"We're getting it together,
do you want to join us?? "

And he came up to the dressing room
after the show and went,

"Hey, come with me.
I want you to meet some people."

I said, "OK." We went to Shepherd's
Bush to a squat on Davis Road

Where Mick Jones and Paul Simonon
were waiting in a room.

We gave him 48 hours
to kind of make his mind up.

I thought about it for 24 hours and I
rang him back and said, "OK, I'm in."

"Complete control" was
one of Bernie's favourite phrases.

He said to us that,
"I've gotta have complete control."

I first saw Mick and Paul
in Lissen Grove labour exchange.

I was queuing up to get dole.

He definitely caught us looking
at him and he was a bit worried.

He looked like he thought
he was gonna be done over.

I could see them staring at me

and I didn't realise they'd seen
the 101ers the previous weekend.

For that moment he looked really
timid and he was in terror it seemed.

I just ignored them, got my dole.

And I was expecting them to tangle
With me on the way out to the street.

We were looking on in awe, really.

And then later he said
that's not what he was getting.

Well, I thought I'd punch Mick first
cos he looked thinner.

And Paul looked a bit tasty.

So I thought I wouldn't... I thought
I'd smack Mick first and then leg it.

We were nervous. Well, I was anyway.

And he came in and we went
into this little tiny room.

It was really small and we all
sat around with our guitars.

And we went like,
"This is one of ours, right??

"One, two, three, four...
I'm so bored with you!"

I said, "Never mind all that.
Let's write it now.

"I'm so bored with the USA."

USA!

And he went, "I didn't say that.

"It's about my girlfriend -
I'm So Bored With You."

We went to an ice cream parlour
in Edgware Road

and wrote "I'm So Bored With The USA"
on the window with the ice cream.

We were always taking about how
there was too many MacDonald's.

Although we'd been brought up
on American TV shows and all that.

There was still too much
of an American influence.

That was really
What the song was about.

The day that I joined The Clash was
very much...back to square one.

Year zero.

He didn't want to do any of this
stuff. He wanted a clean break.

We were almost Stalinist in the way
that you had to shed all your friends

or everything that you'd known, or
every way that you'd played before.

So we were really going through
the motions of...

just getting the unity between us.

It was Bernie that...

told us to write about what we knew.

Mick Jones lived
in a tower block with his granny.

You looked down on the Westway and
wondered what'll happen to your life

and your town and your country.

Say, like, Paul looking in the paper,
"What about career opporunities?? "

I mean we were trying to grope
in a socialist way

towards some future
Where the world might be

Iess of a miserable place than it is.

Tower blocks and urban alienation
and disaffected youth and all that.

That all came from somewhere real.

I don't know why it was called
Rehearsal Rehearsals,

but I always thought
it was like kind of a Jewish thing.

Where you going??
Rehearsal Rehearsals.

There was like a one bar heater.

So I spent a lot of evenings with Sid
huddled over it, just gobbing on it.

We had this jukebox which we put
all our favourite records on,

Iike Pressure Drop
and Two Sevens Clash,

MPLA, by Tapper Zukie.

We used to play those records
in rehearsal sometimes.

It can't be stressed how great
The Ramones first album was

to the scene in London.

It was simple enough
to be able to play.

Me and Paul would definitely
spend hours, days, weeks

playing along to the record.

Paul was learning the bass.

I wanted to be the one that jumped up
and down and throws his arms around.

Mick had already played really great

and I could hack in there, and we
didn't have a drummer really.

I don't think Terry was officially
hired or anything,

he just had been playing with us
and was one of the best drummers.

They had something different.
I didn't paricularly like them.

But there was something about the way
they did things that said,

"We mean business.
Nothing's going to stop us."

Terry Chimes was a bit freaked out
by our...

kind of lunatic...overboard...
Stalinist-type behaviour.

We used to have a lot of political
discussions about...

you know, our lives
and things that affect us.

And then Bernie helping us like
to realise what we were about.

I think that concerned Terry
because, you know, we'd say,

"Well, what'd you wanna do
if you had some money?? "

He'd got into music so he could get
a Lamborghini spors car.

I don't remember the Lamborghini, I
think it was an E-type Jag, actually.

The point was I wanted one kind
of life and they wanted another...

"Why are we working together?? "

The Clash came from just looking
at the Evening Standard really.

And it just sort of... It had a bit
of style, flashness to it.

And, you know, I suggested it
and everybody liked it.

It describes our sound.

We were like sticks of dynamite,
we could go off at any minute.

The line-up at this point - the first
gig would be Terry Chimes on drums,

Paul Simonon, Mick Jones,
myself and Keith Levene.

Keith's approach was always
from another angle to Mick's.

And it really made
an interesting sort of sound.

keith left because he couldn't
be bothered to come to rehearsals.

And then I think Joe said, "Well,
don't bloddy come at all, then!"

Bernie used to say to me, "Paul,
you stand furher back over there."

I used to ignore him.

I said, "Well,
not if I'm gonna be Pete Townshend."

I had to stick up the front.

I suppose, in some ways,
when Keith left,

that was probably quite handy
for me in one way

cos then it meant I had my spot.

You had to be in league with each
other cos there were so many enemies.

The moment we walked on stage
I felt like I was in the living room.

I felt that comforable.

And, you know,
things would go a bit wrong.

I just remember
We had a tune called Listen

Where the bass line went...

And that was the first time
I went on stage.

Paul being very nervous, he went...

until we all fell down laughing
on the stage

cos we didn't know when to come in.

I just wanted to jump around a bit.

Somebody wrote in the Melody Maker -
we were all thrilled - but they said,

"We saw this group Clash up
in Sheffield and they were rubbish."

Home-made and do-it-yourself
expressive.

I got some gloss paint
and got my shoes

and just sort of splashed a bit here
and there and it looked pretty good.

I took it a stage furher,
I got this black shir,

did a bit on that
With a different paint.

It was all being aware of your
textures and all that arty stuff.

Mick and Paul were really, like...

they had dyed hair and all the things
we associate with punk.

There were sort of brass stencils
and you could clip them together.

And we used those to spray on
lettering...whatever.

And it became
sort of a Rauschenberg thing.

You know, like picking up things
from album covers -

Iike "heavy manners" and "heavy-duty
discipline" and all that.

Those were the things we picked up -
as well as lyrics from our songs.

And just transferred them
onto the clothing.

It gave people a bit of a shock

when you walked down the street
With "hate and war" on your shir.

Like trousers, like brain.

That was the difference between
the flared look from the '60s

and the new look which was Mod -
fast and trim and going places.

Once I was being chased
by some teddy boys

and one of them whacked me over the
back of the head as I was fleeing.

You could tell a mile off
what people were into.

The thing with The Clash is
We didn't have any shop to rely on.

Malcolm who was in charge
of the Pistols had

Too Fast To Live, Too Young To Die
and then Let it Rock

and then it was called Sex.

The Pistols had it already sewn up
for them...Iiterally.

The second gig we did was a special
gig at Rehearsal's,

a special "invited only"
private affair.

Bernie organised it
to play to the journalists

and the movers and shakers of London.

We all realised that we needed
to cut a unified look on stage.

Just up the road
from the rehearsal room

was the people
that Bernie used to spray cars.

So we went to them and they sprayed
the guitars, the amps...

the jackets, the ties,
the shirs, the shoes.

We came out and we must have
looked fairly striking...

if not somewhat ridiculous.

We had all these barber chairs
and these lovely lilac curains.

The writers kinda knew who we were
and they were like modern writers -

John Ingham and Caroline Coon.

Paul's mural was all lovely car dump.

They were people who stuck their head
above the parapet, really,

in order to publicise punk rock.

I think that they made some of the
most exciting, vital rock music ever.

And cerainly made it
impossible for me

to ever listen
to any rock music again.

Mark P stared Sniffin' Glue,
Which was like the first fanzine

and it was followed
by a million others.

That was a really great scene

because there was
like punk criticism of the punk acts.

We do it how we want to do it.

If that's not good enough,
we'll forget it.

It really seemed
and felt like the last word.

And 20 years down the line,
I sort of feel that they were.

The Clash put the boot
into ageing rock millionaires

whose music and lifestyle
have been dominant for so long.

It's got nothing to do
With them any more.

When Rod Stewar gets up there

and stars like going on
With his string orchestra,

it's not what you feel like.

You gotta have music
what you feel like.

Otherwise, you go barmy, don't you??

There just has to be new groups
and that's what you got.

The gig didn't star till about
midnight on Sunday night.

I had to sit there the whole day

watching equipment
that was stashed under the stage.

That was to make us
completely knackered.

I couldn't understand
Why we sounded so awful on stage

and then the Pistols
sounded fantastic.

I suppose they were a bit
scared of us, probably.

We were pretty done over when Charles
Shaar Murray wrote in the paper,

"The Clash are one
of those garage bands

"that should be swiftly returned
to the garage

"with the doors locked
and the motor left running."

And from that review we got the idea
for the song Garageland.

It went on all day and all night.
They couldn't control it.

The Grove burned.

In London every year
they have a carnival

that was stared
by the Jamaican immigrants to the UK,

possibly about '57, '58.

In that summer of '76,
which was very hot,

there had been some very heavy police
pressure on the black community.

Me and Joe went down there
with Bernie

and we were on the Westway checking
out all the sound systems and stuff.

And a conga line of policemen
came through the crowd.

Next minute paper cups were being
lobbed over and then cans.

We were there at the very first throw
of the first brick.

Next minute
there was police everywhere.

And they literally just charged.

All hell broke loose...
and I mean hell.

The crowd pared,
We were pushed onto a wire netting.

Bernie's glasses went over there
and I was over here

and Joe was chucked upside down.

This was one time where people went,

"We've had enough
and we're going to say so now!"

And that's what gave rise
to the song White Riot.

Because we participated in the riot,

but I was aware all the time
that it was a black people's riot,

i.e. they had more of an axe to grind

and they had the guts
to do something physical about it.

It was a moment of... I don't know,
I just sort of felt relieved.

Especially when you held that brick
and you lobbed it.

And I remember Joe and me...
This car had been tipped upside down

and me and Joe were trying to light
the car to set it ablaze.

It's one thing to say, "Right, let's
burn the cars and burn the ghetto,"

but you try and set a car alight.

And this big fat woman was screaming,

"Oh, Lord,
they're going to set the car alight!"

And, like, the wind was blowing out
the Swan Vestas.

I couldn't get
anything going on this car.

It was just a comedy, some of it.

But it was a hell of a day.

Bernie was really keen
on using some of that imagery

for albums or posters or whatever.

Me and Bernie used to spend a lot
of time looking at album covers,

especially the Jamaican ones.

That's the ones we really got
a lot of influence from.

One that was really popular with us
was Screaming Target - Big Youth.

Visually, very exciting,
as well as musically...explosive.

Police And Thieves was just ringing
out all over the town.

We decided to try and cut a version.

It hasn't been said enough,
Mick Jones' talent as an arranger,

the way he just told me to go
like that...

and then kill it, and then he'd go...

When I listen to Julian Irvine today,
I think

what a bold brass neck
We had to try and attempt that.

By rights they should have said,

"You heathen man, you ruined
the works of Jah, you know?? "

But they were hip enough to realise

we'd brought
our own music to the party.

These Americans were invited down
to see the Sex Pistols.

They saw us,

and then went home thinking
that they'd seen the Pistols.

And they said,
"Yeah, it was a really great show.

"I didn't know
you had an extra guitarist."

And obviously, it must have been a
bit difficult for Americans to say,

"You've just seen the wrong group."

I suppose it was historically great
cos of Siouxsie and the Banshees

With Sid Vicious on the drums playing
and what have you.

Firstly, they came up, a few teddy
boys, and offered the sound man 5p.

And they gave him 5p,
and he said, "What's that?? "

And they said, "It's your fare home."

We was playing on stage
and this mad person jumped on stage,

and I thought, "Who's this?? I'm gonna
have to kick 'em off the stage."

And it turned out to be Patti Smith.

The whole stage
Was like all twinkling.

It was glass - all the bottles
that were lobbed on the stage.

That's why we moved around so much.

Bernie Rhodes had hung around with
Guy Stevens a lot in the sixties.

I think it was Bernie
Who suggested working with Guy.

The results were
kind of disappointing somehow.

Cos we had quite an energetic unit
and it sounded very flat.

I remember the engineer
going on about Joe,

that he's got to mind his Ps
and Qs when he's singing the songs.

Shorly after that, Terry Chimes
announced he was quitting.

We must have tried every drummer
that then had a kit.

I mean, every drummer in London.

I think we counted 205.

And that's why we were lost
until we found Topper Headon.

We hardly did any shows, we just sort
of travelled on this coach.

I think only nine gigs
out of 30 were left.

We weren't going to play a gig
Where the Pistols were cancelled

cos they had sworn on television.

And then it just kind of exploded.

You know, what with the Grundy show.

And The Damned decided
to play a gig anyway

and that caused the first rift
between the punk groups.

But it really put punk on the map.

Every truck driver and builder
and your grandma and your uncle

knew what punk rock was now about.

This was the first club for punk
groups and their followers.

We agreed to kick it off on...
I think it was New Year's Day.

It was a good place to hang out.

And there was also a punk-rasta
interface because...

the DJ at the time was Don Letts.

He would play a lot of reggae records

that we hadn't had any chance
to come across.

That gave us a lot of new
information.

That rasta-punk crossover
was like really crucial.

The whole scene would have been
piffle without that really.

Cos it...
Yeah, it was something else.

I remember thinking,

"Well, that's nice for you, but we
Were never your toy to begin with."

It didn't matter
Who we were signed to or anything.

I think we were probably outside
the Polydor building in a taxi.

At the last moment Bernie said,
"Right, we're going to Soho Square."

And within moments we signed to CBS.

Maurice Oberstein was there.

But it was only thanks to him that...

He was prepared to stick his neck out
and sign one of these punk groups.

It was so fast I guess Bernie
couldn't think of, you know...

a big stunt to celebrate it.

All that was needed from us
was to sign the damn thing.

They weren't going to sit down
and talk about Clause 95B to us.

I guess Bernie went off
to bank the cheque.

We signed for $100,000. At the time,
that seemed like a forune.

But later I found out what we thought
was a five-record deal,

in fact, in the small print -
like in every corny story -

it was in fact a ten-record deal.

I remember for days after
me and Joe walking up the street

and deliberating over
the content of the songs.

Like, "Well, we can't sing
about career opporunities any more,

"because we've now got some cash,"
you know??

It needed to break out and reach
America and be kind of global.

And somebody had to
take that bull by the horns.

There was a lot of struggling
With our instruments at the star.

It was that struggling,
learning to play.

It made it alive, it made it real.

It made it something
that wasn't anything else.

One of the few things the punks
had for recreation

Was amphetamine sulphate, which was
value for money - its effects lasted.

I decided quite quickly
that the up wasn't worh the down.

We didn't write anything
in the studio. We just banged it out.

We'd all come from different aspects

of what is now known
as popular culture.

We obviously all immersed ourselves
in different pars of it.

I remember Mick pulling me over
and saying,

"Paul, I want you
to sing this bit about pensions,"

in, I think, Career Opporunities.

And I remember saying, "I'm not
bloody singing about pensions,"

and Mick was going,
"What do you mean?? "

"I'm not gonna sing about pensions."

We didn't want to get compromised
by the sound

and we'd also felt burnt
by that Guy Stevens demo session

Where it had come out kinda boring.

We knocked that album out...
I think in three weekends...

four-day sessions.

I like the first album best,
actually.

I like that kind of sound
that it has overall.

From the time I first
stared playing the drums

that's all I ever wanted to be.

There's a rule of rock 'n' roll
and it says

"You're only as good
as your drummer".

I told everyone
that I played for The Temptations.

But I never... I played for a band
supporing The Temptations.

He could play funk, soul...
reggae didn't phase him.

We weren't supposed to come out
With something like that at the time.

We were a big fat riff group.
We were like rock solid beats.

Coming out with White Man
in Hammersmith Palais

was really unexpected and these
are the best moments of any career.

To be honest, I thought, "I'll join,
stay with the band for a year,

"get me name known
and then move onto something good."

This wasn't a time like today

when people play along
to DAT tapes or sequences or loops.

Everything coming off the stage
you've manufactured in that moment.

And it was really fast
and really hard and very loud.

To me it was kind of
so...so different,

I didn't have the foresight to
believe it would actually work.

Finding someone
Who not only had the chops,

but the strength and stamina to do it
was just the breakthrough for us.

That was unheard of for punk rock
groups to play The Rainbow.

That was like the Madison Square
Garden, if you like, of London.

People ripping up seats, piling them
up on stage, stuff going all over.

For punk rock groups
to fill that joint,

it meant
there was no stopping it now.

It was like the dam burst.

Our attitude was, "What??
What do you mean, second album?? "

I remember going to Jamaica with Mick
for maybe a week or ten days

and we came up with some tunes.

Safe European Home, probably,

and Drug Stabbing Time,
I think was the other one.

I was really pissed off about that,
cos I really wanted to go.

And that...

That really pissed me off.

I don't know how we weren't filleted
and served up on a bed of chips,

because me and Mick
Wandered around the harbour.

I think they mistook us
for sailors...merchant seamen.

We went down to score,
down to the seafront to score,

and I was like,
"Don't give this guy the money, Joe."

Joe was like,
"Yeah, we'll give him the money."

So I gave him the money
and watched him fly off...with wings.

And the guy just appeared
in the distance and he came back.

The record company had this idea

that they wanted somebody
to produce the record.

It wasn't even a decision
to bring in somebody

as far as the band was concerned.

I think it was like, "This bloke
Sandy Pearlman's going to come...

"and maybe produce."

Pearlman kept turning up
at our shows.

And Mick's schoolmate Robin wouldn't
let him in the dressing room.

He knocked on the door
just before we were going on stage

and my mate Robin answered
and he said, "Hi, I'm Sandy,"

and he went, "Well, the band's going
on stage so you can't come in now."

He was like,
"No, you don't understand."

And he was told to leave the room

and then he stuck his head
back through the door...

And next minute it was, like, wallop,

and Sandy Pearlman's lying on the
floor with all blood coming down.

We all stepped over him
and went out on stage.

I must admit that whole situation
of recording that album

Was just the most boring
situation ever.

It was just so nitpicking... It was
such a contrast to the first album

and it just sort of
ruined any spontaneity.

We didn't realise how
the first album sounded weird

to American record company people.

They figured it wasn't fit
for human consumption.

The audience was already well into it
in America,

far more than the executives knew.

And so they released the second album
and then the first album.

I think we were waiting
for Mick to come to rehearsal.

I walked up Camden High Street

with a rifle over me shoulder
and two pistols down me belt.

Being bored, we thought we'd go out
and try these air rifles.

And they went up on the roof and they
stared firing away at these pigeons.

..missed and then
they came back again.

Took another shot
and they kept coming back.

They didn't know but they were
priceless racing pigeons

belonging to one of the mechanics
Who had a coop up there on the roof.

And next minute there are police
coming over the roof with guns going,

"Freeze!"

Whenever we were working - especially
touring, cos I used to love touring -

I just felt on top of the world
the whole time.

I loved every minute of it.

Live performances with The Clash
were never predictable.

It was just mayhem from the word go -
running, jumping, all action.

You fall off the stage and they catch
you, you're happening.

If they don't - they make a space,
then that's it.

So sometimes I'd be going so fast,
I'd go off the end of the stage.

But I'd be cool.

You couldn't play a gig
in the punk years

that was not just covered in gob.

From the moment you stepped behind
the amplifiers to the stage

you were covered in gob,
and it didn't matter who you were,

but especially good
if you could gob on The Clash.

Because we weren't playing along
to backing tapes, we could stop.

When somebody's getting kicked by 30
other geezers, you've gotta stop.

Come on, you slobs.

There's no need to fight.
This is rock 'n' roll, not a fight.

There's an unwritten law,
if you turn around and go like that

and we'd all stop
and sort the ruck out

and then we'd kick it
right back in again.

We was on tour and I remember
me and Mick had an argument.

I don't know, I just snapped.

So I went to punch him
and I got him in the ear.

And then next minute, like Topper
and Joe are trying to hold my elbows

and I'm thrashing around
trying to get hold of Mick.

Joe and Topper took bruises
from my elbows.

And then we ended up in the studio
where Mick's over there

and I'm over here and Joe
has to go back and forh to tell me,

"It's E now."

Go over there, come back,
"Oh, now it's C."

Help us to carry on
our fight against racism.

This is the official collection
for the Anti-Nazi League...

When we played Victoria Park,

that was the most people
We played to at that point.

Which was kind of good, cos a lot of
skinheads were getting into punk.

Only some of who were racist
and some of them were anti-racist.

About a month later,
Bernie was manouevered out

from the managerial chair
in a power struggle.

I know him and Mick used to have
a serious falling out at times.

Whatever The Clash was, it was to do
with Bernie Rhodes and The Clash.

That's what I always maintained -
for better or for worse.

Between May and August
We'd come up with London Calling.

Then we went with Guy Stevens
into Wessex Studios.

Guy used to believe
that his job as a record producer

Was to install the maximum emotion
in the record.

He used to do this by a process
of direct psychic injection.

He used to inject his personality
into the musicians,

face-to-face,
as they were playing the master.

He made me feel really at ease.

And if I played wrong notes
he didn't care.

You'd like write, rehearse
and then record.

See the thing what I realised
was with being in a group,

you get money if you write songs.

You don't write songs,
you don't get any money.

Writing songs was a bit of a problem,

I suppose
because I always played reggae

and played reggae and played reggae.

So once I stared having ideas
for songs,

I'd throw a song in
and everyone would just go...

And if I had a bit more skill
on the guitar,

I could say, "No, I want it to be
a bit more rock, like this."

Many say that's our finest hour,
that double album London Calling.

There was a point where
punk was going narrower and narrower,

painting themselves into a corner.

We thought we could just do
any kind of music.

We were playing The Palladium in New
York and I remember doing the show

and we were sort of nearing the end
and nothing was complete -

I didn't feel satisfied.

I watched him, his guitar went up
instead of down,

he didn't do a jump, he stared
smashing the head end on the deck.

He stared coming towards me,
I stared backing off,

hence it being out of focus.

Just kept shooting.

I'd chucked me basses round before,

I didn't really have any respect
for them in the first place.

The moment I got a new bass,
I'd star getting a hammer

and I'd star smashing it around,
digging bits out...

I did spend the remainder of the
night, after they'd seen the contacts

trying to persuade Joe that it
Wouldn't make a very good front cover

basically because it was too out of
focus. I was wrong.

As soon as we'd finished the last
chord of it,

we left Bill Price to mix it
With Guy Stevens overseeing it.

We looked over in the control booth

and there's two grown men wrestling
over the mixing desk.

And we looked closer and it's like
Guy is wrestling with Bill Price.

He used to get so excited that
I used to hold him down with one hand

and try and carry on the manual mix
on the desk with the other.

When you've been into American music
for as long as I have

to go there...is a trip.

You're constantly watching out the
Window - it's like watching a movie.

To ride across the country, even
better on a bus, is another trip.

It was great to see it, cos
We'd always seen it through the TV.

It was fantastic.

I got endless inspiration from it.

After we'd been to America,
and we got off great there

and the audience was hip enough there
to get into us,

we came back to London
and we didn't have a manager

and we got into Blackhill Management.

They were
like a regular management group -

you go on tour, you record,
you go on tour, you record.

That was it - none of the excitement
that Bernie had.

As soon as they'd got a rough mix
down, we'd be like,

"Fresh tape on the reel.
Let's get the mikes out,

"cos we're gonna go like this
and this..."

And we'd just keep doing that
day and night.

And that's why it had to be
a triple album.

Even though it would have been better
as a double or single album or EP...

Who knows??

The fact is we recorded all that
music in one spot at one moment.

And in one three-week blast,
for better or for worse.

That's the document.

Sandinista! was originally
going to be a double album.

But what we decided we wanted
to bring out a single a month.

And the first one we put forward
was Bank Robber.

I think the head of the record
company said they didn't like it.

They said it sounded like
David Bowie backwards.

We weren't happy with that.

It was hard enough making the records

without having to deal
With somebody who couldn't even hear

or didn't have the grace to go,

"OK, maybe
you've got something here."

People bought it and it did well,
but we wouldn't do Top of the Pops,

so they got Pan's People
to do it instead.

We were writing a lot of material
and making it up as we go along.

There was a lot of jamming.

I remember one day the only person
in the studio was Topper.

He'd stroll around, find a marimba or
something in a corner of the studio.

He'd star jamming
all on his own on that,

and before you knew it,
we'd record some of it.

A few hours later the rest
of the band would turn up

and that would become another track
on Sandinista!

All of a sudden
We were up to track 35.

Some of those takes are songs
being written as they're going down.

We always took music that was going
on around us on board

and made it par of our thing.

Mick Jones is the one who...
Again, he's the king arranger,

and he's bringing in the... He was
always looking to do the new thing.

It was really banging off
in New York -

rap was there, it was like 1980.

I was so gone with it that the others
used to call me Whack Attack!

I'd walk around with a beat box.

And WBLS was blasting
all over the city

and we just hooked on to some of that
vibe and made our own version of it.

We made an instrumental mix
of The Mag Seven

and WBLS played it to death.

You couldn't go anywhere in New York
that summer without hearing that.

And that was us...

Weirdo-punk-rock-white guys...

doing the kit.

That was when hip-hop
was just staring.

And that was like another signpost
of what was to come.

We fell in with some grafitti arists
and they made a big banner for us.

If someone had come in and gone,
"Let's play this with balalaikas,"

everyone would have gone, "Give me
the biggest balalaika," you know??

We were open about stuff.

Mick Jones bringing in the new sound
of New York and stuff

and Simo with his reggae thing
and me with my rhythm and blues thing

and Topper with all his soul chocks,
and we could just do that.

There was one point
When we went to Kingston, Jamaica

and that was great
because that's where I could...

At least I was there at last.

On the album,
the band brought in Mikey Dread.

And Mikey expanded the range of music
from rock 'n' roll

to what he had to offer
Which was genuine Jamaican dub.

And this was very exciting.

And I mean that.

I was sitting at a piano,
that lovely channel one,

completely out of tune piano
that just sounds...

It just has the sound of the town.

I was just sitting at the piano,
figuring out the chords

and Mikey Dread tapped me
on the shoulder,

and I said, "What?? "
And he said, "We have to run."

And I looked in his eyes
and realised he was serious.

Previously, a month before, I think,

the Rolling Stones had been down
there using that same studio,

and they'd been dishing out money
all over the place,

you know, to keep everybody happy.

So the guys in the studio thought,
"Well, where's all the money?? "

The gunmen were gonna come down
and slice everybody up.

"Who do you think you are,
coming into Kingston

"without paying your way,
white rass clot?? "

And they were going to come
and chop everyone up.

And we just had to leg it.

Sandinista! was three pieces of long
playing vinyl for the price of one.

I always saw it as a record
for people who were on oil rigs

or aric stations, that weren't able
to get to the record shops regularly.

I can only say I'm proud of it...
wars and all, as they say.

It's a magnificent thing.

And I wouldn't change it,
even if I could.

And that's after some soul searching.

There are cerain songs
I wouldn't have put on it,

but I'm one of many members.

Just from the fact it was all thrown
down in one go. It's outrageous.

And then released like that,

it's doubly outrageous,
it's triply outrageous.

After a couple of years
working with Blackhill,

Joe put his foot down
and I'm pleased he did,

cos he wanted Bernie back.

It was Bernie's idea to do seven
nights and really rock places out.

That's when I realised parly
the way the world works

because you can't march
into a city like New York

and take away the nightlife.

I gotta get into the show,
you know what I mean??

I have to get into the show.

We were doing residency
in Times Square, basically.

We turned up and they said, "There's
too many people, close it down."

We were presented with a situation
that escalated beyond control.

We were on the news.

"All you who wanted to see The Clash
at Bond's tonight, it's cancelled."

It was great, checking into New York
and you're on the evening news.

That was fantastic.

"They are punks, throwing out
the disco sound for something else."

Know Your Rights! Slate 75!

I think we've reached furher
than any original punk group.

We were always ambitious as a group.

I think they only need
to listen to the lyrics

to understand what the song's about.

We decided to play out,

however many tickets had been put out
we were going to play.

We hope that they've got the news
behind the news.

Because they really oversold it,
We ended up doing about 16 nights,

16 nights and a couple of matinees
or something.

Something strangely monotonous about
getting up, going to the same hall -

playing a gig.

Doing that 15 nights in a row,
it nearly killed us.

And 17 shows is...it's cushy,
you know,

it's so easy
compared to being on the road.

It wasn't hard work at all

and the good thing was
everyone thought it was,

so you could like pretend
when you got out,

"Oh, yeah, I'll manage."
Gimme some more of that.

To go to New York
and take New York... that is great.

Just listen, OK??

We did a gig in Hong Kong
and then we went to Thailand.

I was shooting what I knew to be the
album cover on the railroad tracks.

Halfway through the shoot,
something just happened.

Somehow they dissolved
in front of my eyes.

Topper's health at this point was
going. He got addicted to heroin.

Looking back on it, you know,
I was out of control.

If you try and imagine a group
and the drummer is falling apar,

then no matter what you put on top,
it's gonna fall apar.

What he was up to sort of made a
mockery of what the group was about

and what Joe was writing about.

He was saying,

"How can I write all these anti-drugs
songs with you stoned behind me?? "

In the jazz days, the saxophone
section would be addicted to heroin.

Each drug has a nature
and that surely suits horn playing,

cos you can float
over the music doing your thing.

But it doesn't suit drumming, it's
like nailing a nail into the floor.

It's so precise -
the beat's gotta be there.

So there was a lot of friction
building up over a period of time.

And so...that was the beginning
of the end really.

Although Bernie was 100% always
working on ideas for the group,

he wouldn't share with the rest of us

and so we didn't know
what was going on.

Bernie said, "We're staring a tour.

"Tickets in Scotland
are not selling that well."

He didn't understand the nature
of the beast of The Clash

is that we have a walk up, yeah??

We have a right big walk up.

And anybody, especially Bernie
should have known that.

He said, "Disappear or something. I
need an excuse to cancel the tour."

Like a fool, I did.

Joe did do that,
but then obviously couldn't stand it,

and actually vanished from everybody.

I should never have listened to that.
You have to have some regrets.

I didn't know where he'd gone,
what had happened.

I went to France
and just dicked around for a while.

And basically, he came back
and I was given an ultimatum.

And the next thing that happened
was that Topper left.

I remember when the band sacked me,

I promised them I'd stop, you know,
misbehaving and taking substances.

You need to have everyone
firing on all cylinders

if you're gonna take things
to new levels or new directions.

And I felt a lot of guilt about that,
because if I'd kept my act together,

I could see the band possibly still
being together today in a way.

You can't have
any passengers on board,

because it slows the whole thing down

and you slow it down, you lose spirit
and you grind to a shuddering halt.

I'd like to kind of apologise to them
for kind of letting the side down,

for going off the rails.

But if it happened again, I think
I'd probably do the same thing.

I'm just that sort of person,
you know??

Whatever a group is, it was the
chemical mixture of those four people

that makes a group work.

And you can replace one with whoever
you like and it's never gonna work.

We were just so tired...

tired of each other, tired
of the road, tired of the studio.

We were burned out.

We tried to mix it as we were going
along on that Far Eastern tour.

We booked studios in Australia
and that's where we ground to a halt.

All I remember really is having
this two-hour argument with Mick

about the level of the bass
on Know Your Rights.

When you're struggling,
it holds you together,

cos you're heading for some point,
"We're gonna make it. Come on, boys!

"Hang in there."

And then Rock The Casbah
went top five.

All this has gone down
in the space of, what, four years??

We were in like the fifth year.
It had to have a toll on us.

I think we should have had
maybe, like, a year off.

Combat Rock went top five in America.
This was unheard of for us.

Our placings had been 198 below that.

And suddenly, it just all blew up.

It was fun to play Career
Opporunities in Shea Stadium

cos who'd have thought four years
previously when we'd written it

that we'd be playing it
at Shea Stadium??

These are the things that makes the
world so interesting...

and the music.

The last gig was a huge gig.
It was like 200,000 people.

It was the computer
generation's festival.

I suppose, er...

you don't want to hear about this
and that and what's up my arse, huh??

Try this on for size.

Like we were on stage,
that's how it was backstage.

Like, Mick was all the way over there
and I was over here

and Joe was in the middle,
and that's how it was.

Me and Mick didn't talk.

There was a little scuffle
at the end,

that was sort of symbolic
of the whole mayhem.

I remember looking over
and seeing some bouncer hitting Mick.

I just went over and stared laying
into this bloke's head

cos I thought it was unfair
cos Mick's like...

He's not muscles or whatever.

1984 and we were gone really.

It was all over bar the...
brushing out the room.

Gunfight at the OK Corral...

or something's gonna happen.

I didn't know personally
about self-control.

I didn't know about that stuff
until much later.

Me and Joe had talked about it
and got to the point where we said,

"We're grown men.
I can't take any more of this."

We lost communication
with each other.

Even in the same room,
We were looking at the floor.

Joe said,
"Mick, we want you to leave."

And then Mick said to me,
"What do you say?? "

And I said, "Well, yeah."

You know??

Mick was intolerable to work with
by this time. I mean, no fun at all.

He didn't show up.

When he did show up, it was like
Elizabeth Taylor in a filthy mood.

And he didn't want to go on tour,

the perfect time to go on tour
When everything was moving up.

I would say that one of Mick's
talents was not punctuality.

He was fairly late most of the time.

But then, you know, talent's worh
waiting for, I think...

When all's said and done.

I was just carried away, really.
I wish I had a bit more control...

You wish you knew what you knew now.

It only happens like that
in hindsight.

It never happens like that
when it's going on

cos things are going so fast

you don't have time to step back
and take a view.

And that probably explains some of
the moments

when you didn't have
as much control...on yourself.

Always wanting to interject,
you know, "And another thing..."

We weren't parochial,
We weren't narrow-minded.

We weren't Little Englanders.

At least we had the suss to embrace
what we were presented with,

which was the world
and all its weird varieties.

In America or in Spain
or France or Sweden or Italy

or Japan or Australia
or anywhere in the world but here,

they really know
and appreciate The Clash.

Whatever a group is it was the
chemical mixture

of those four people
that makes a group work.

That's a lesson everyone should
learn, "Don't mess with it!"

If it works just let it...

Do whatever you have to do
to bring it forward

but don't mess with it.

And like, we learned that...bitterly.

If I could do it all again,
I wouldn't change anything.

I think it was fine as it is.

Who couldn't write good tunes
with such great lyrics??

and, you know, fantastic drumming,

and it was just great to be
With Paul who was just there

probably from when I first met him...

Bastard.

We did our job and that's the story
and now we're gone.

And that's it. That suits me fine.