“A groove, a vibe, a shot of humanity, a bit of uplifting:" Remembering Joe Strummer

Today marks the tenth anniversary of the passing of Joe Strummer, frontman for legendary British punk outfit the Clash. In addition to his role on the frontlines of punk culture and its attendant possibilities, Strummer (real name: John Mellor) was a solo artist, film-music scorer (Grosse Point Blank, Walker) actor (Mystery Train, Straight To Hell) and radio presenter for the BBC. In 1999, he issued Rock Art And The X-Ray Style, his first album in more than a decade and first as leader of a new outfit, the Mescaleros. Strummer would go on to make two more records with the band, 2001’s Global A Go-Go and 2003’s Streetcore, which was finished by the band after he passed away in his sleep from cardiac arrhythmia on December 22, 2002.

This interview took place prior to the release of Global A Go-Go. Jason Pettigrew spoke to Strummer while he was at home curating another installment of his BBC World Service radio program, London Calling. If you’re not familiar with the man, there’s a plethora of material to draw from, including (bur not limited to) the body of work he created with the Clash, solo recordings, the Mescaleros’ three albums (a double-vinyl live album of one of his final shows was released by Epitaph as part of Record Store’s Black Friday event this past November), as well as two crucial films available on DVD, Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten and director/actor Dick Rude’s startling Let’s Rock Again! which display both Strummer’s poetic vision, as well as his tireless underdog spirit.

What music did you receive today?
JOE STRUMMER: Let’s see. [Sound of rustling papers and moving boxes.] I’ve got a record here of Congolese soukous music, a new Meters record… Something here by a trumpet player, [Bellemou] Messaoud’s Wahran. Not sure where he’s from, though… It’s Eastern jazz.

Can I assume that maybe you’re kind of bored with rock ’n’ roll?
[Laughs.] Well, you have to spread your net far and wide to get something interesting, really. But that’s also part of running a radio show for BBC World Service; it forces me to get out and about and hunt down tracks.

You talk about hunting down tracks. I don’t want to get nostalgic, like, “Let’s talk about the good ol’ days, Joe,” but when you’re young and you hear new music for the first time, it’s so invigorating and spirited, like when I was a teenager and hearing the Clash, the Specials and Delta 5 for the first time. I get that same kind of vibe off of Global A Go-Go, that sense of discovery, like I’m part of something that not a lot of people really know about …
All right! That’s great.

Like I said, I don’t want to make this about nostalgia, but I want to frame this. There’s a lot to do on this record with the essence of the vibe.
That’s very cool of you; you spotted it in one, really. [The Mescaleros] had been on the road and we made a record [Rock Art And The X-Ray Style], and then we went on the road to tour it. That’s the way you get to know each other—on the road in stressful situations. Musicians kind of build up a vibe together. When we came to record [Global], we actually didn’t have any material ready, due to some accidental circumstances. So we kind of blundered into the studio. I booked five days to begin with as a tester to see what we could do, and it began to roll so nicely. Everyone was co-writing and working together like a team. It began so well, we just kept rolling on it. We had to break to do a three-week tour with the Who in Britain, but apart from that, we kept going with it, building the whole record in the studio, on the spot. And I think that contributes to a nice cohesive feel.

Does being in the studio with the clock running and the money going away makes the situation more urgent, as well?
Well, I had a bit of luck with that because I’m a bit of a sentimentalist—or superstitious, one or the other. We made Rock Art And The X-Ray Style—which was the first record I made in 11 years—in a small studio in Willesden, North London, which is a frankly shabby neighborhood. The rate there is about a third of the rate down in the center of town. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it made us more relaxed. Because if we had [big studio time] running, it would’ve prevented us from being creative, being able to experiment or just being able to relax into it. Using this room helped chill everyone out and not worry about it too much.

These days, it seems there are a lot of things that have nothing to do with the creation of music actually affecting the music. Like, “The tour’s in three weeks, we gotta finish this, fast.”
think that comes into play. But we’re a bit more shambolic. We make the record, then we plan the tour. It takes the heat off.

Would you like to be considered a catalyst for people to discover new things about music they haven’t heard before? Or would you rather people picked up an instrument and follow a course of their own?
It’s nice to be in a position where you feel you can turn people on. I know the Clash turned a lot of people on to reggae music and what have you. If you are in a position to break new ground in a group, then you should. Groups that sell a lot of records get a lot of pressure to make the same record again. Happily, we’re not in that position. [Laughs.] So we decided to use that to our advantage. Our feeling was, “We’ve got nothing to lose here—let’s go for it.”

In 2000, you gave a reporter a list of all the things that make bands great, and I’m trying to remember it.
Let me think. [Pauses.] What did I say…

Let me ask the question again: Joe Strummer, what do you think people should expect from their rock bands in 2001?
[Laughs.] Let me say a groove, a vibe, a shot of humanity, a bit of uplifting. Some rebelliousness, some individuality. Some leads to follow things on into other musics or books or other areas of culture. I don’t know; something like that.

That’ll work. Do you think that everything in rock music has been done and the only way to get things happening is by cross-pollinating genres?
I would think so. Rock ’n’ roll came around in ’54, so it’s on its fourth decade. You can’t keep going over the old ground. The things that are interesting are branching out and melding things together, even unlikely things. You have to keep it interesting somehow; you just can’t keep making the same record over and over again.

You have several daughters.
17, 15 and a stepdaughter who is 9.

So there’s a bunch of youth culture that comes into the Strummer household.
You can say that again. Especially West Coast punk rock. And the 9-year-old has just discovered MTV.

Now considering what you’ve done with your life—where you’ve been, what you’ve experienced—do you fall into The Trap? “What? You call that ‘music’? When I was your age…”
Definitely fall into that trap. [Laughs.] I say to myself, “Is it true what I’m saying, or is that music?” Sometimes I shout that at the youngest one. You have to think, “Am I turning into my parents?” [Laughs.]

Exactly!
It’s a terrible moment! [Laughs.] There’s no way to know the answer, either. When that moment occurs, I’m thinking, “Well, is it better? Or is it worse?” Because the generations are different. If only we could get a Martian down [to Earth], sit him in a chair and say, “Right, listen to this record. Then listen to this one.” And only then will we be able to tell, ultimately, whose music is better. alt

Strummerville is a registered charity founded by friends and family of Joe Strummer to support musicians from around the world. For more information visit the foundation’s website.