A diplomat’s son who rejected his patrimony to become a punk, Joe Strummer still wound up an ambassador — an elder statesman of music admired for his passion and originality. The heart attack that killed the British singer-guitarist at age 50 on Dec. 22 silenced one of rock’s most direct and eloquent voices. The only consolation in Strummer’s sudden passing is the renewed attention it brings to his work.
Strummer distinguished himself as frontman and founding member of the Clash and as a solo performer. The songs survive in abundance, from the Clash’s 1979 self-titled North American debut through Strummer & the Mescaleros’ Global a Go Go, released in 2001. The Clash canon, in particular, also lives on in the punk, rock, roots, reggae and ska played by younger groups that admire the British band, still, for its combative streak, openness to other genres, and its uncanny knack for writing hit singles. Here are a few albums that speak — and shout — volumes about Strummer’s legacy.
The Clash (1979). Though inspired by the Sex Pistols, the Clash was at least as motivated by love of music as it was by contempt for authority. This spare-sounding record included two covers, the 1976 Junior Murvin reggae song Police and Thieves and the 1959 Sonny Curtis rocker, I Fought the Law. The band that skewered American mores on I’m So Bored With the USA — “Yankee detectives are always on TV/’Cause killers in America work seven days a week” — also bared its love for the primal power of early American rock ‘n’ roll.
London Calling (1980). The Clash album to have if you can only have one, London Calling was a veritable second British invasion upon its release. Apart from launching a thousand garage bands and landing the Clash its first U.S. hit single, the giddy Train in Vain, the album proved a genre born angry could evolve, build bridges to other genres and grow smarter without turning soft. On the apocalyptic title track, Strummer’s voice cuts across the lancing rhythm with a mix of desperation and wit: “Quit holdin’ out and draw another breath.” His hoarse cry curdling into a rooster’s crow — the sounding of some last dawn — still is one of the most harrowing moments in rock.
Global a Go Go (2001). This avidly melodic album has a wandering spirit that Strummer, born in Ankara, Turkey, might have acquired young. Go Go’s melding of rock, folk and ethnic music is purposeful and clearly drawn on songs such as Johnny Appleseed and Bhindi Bhagee. The subject, as often as not, is globalization and its power to reshape all cultures for better and for worse. Strummer sings with a soulful empathy about the casualties on the last album he released before his death, and about the hope for a dignified outcome.
The Pogues: lf I Should Fall From Grace With God (1988). It’s too simple to call the Pogues’ music Celtic unplugged Clash; there is a moodiness to it that also recalls Bob Dylan. But the Pogues’ pub-worthy ballads, jigs and reels bristle with a ragged energy that mark front man Shane MacGowan as a Clash disciple. Strummer would produce the group’s 1990 album, Hell’s Ditch.
Rancid: And Out Come the Wolves (1995). This manic ska-punk band from Southern California never hid its love of the Clash, and on its exhilarating third album wrote an unabashed clone, Ruby Soho, pure Clash down to the fast, bumping rhythm and shout-along chorus.
Waco Brothers: Cowboy in Flames (1997). This album’s stomping finale, Death of Country Music, could have been written by Strummer on a Southern jag. The “Brothers” have no blood ties, just a shared love of country music before country went pop and Nashville sent one of its heroes, Johnny Cash, packing. They deliver their cultural critique with canny zeal and a dead-honest ethic that Rolling Stone aptly described as “Cash meets Clash.”
Sean Piccoli can be reached at or 954-356-4832.
