Because their music was so viscerally exciting, it's easy to overlook how strong the Clash's lyrics typically were. So let's talk about our favorite lyrics from the band. I'll begin things with my take on Gates of the West, Mick Jones's spectacular bit of wordsmithing. First, here's the tune: Because the song never appeared on an Clash LP and was never performed live, it gets little recognition. So let's change that. OVERALL MEANING: Mick has never broken down exactly what was on his mind, so I'll offer my conclusion (which jibes with others who have given this some thought) - it's about the trepidation, excitement and anticipation of a band about to leave their home (i.e. London - "the gates of the east") to conquer America ("the gates of the west). It's all leavened by a heavy sense of fatalism that adds real poignancy. I would love to be the lucky one on chill Avenue Who could keep your heart warm when ice has turned it blue But with the beggin' sleeping losers as they turn in for the night I'm looking back for home and I can see the lights We begin with our narrator expressing his regrets that he can't stay, but he has to leave. And it's not a heroic exit. The last line is heartbreaking, as it recalls the feeling of leaving your home and taking one last wistful look over your shoulder at everything you're leaving behind. I should be jumpin' shoutin' that I made it all this way From Camden Town station to Fortieth and Eighth A cheeky homage to Mick's favorite band - Mott the Hoople - and the line "From the Liverpool docks to the Hollywood Bowl" from All the Way to Memphis. The first line plants the seed of doubt about how this will really all turn out for our narrator. He senses something might be wrong. Not many make it this far and many say we're great But just like them we walk on an' we can't escape our fate Oh man, this line. The band is surrounded by supporters with high hopes, but Mick is fully aware that sooner or later everything blows apart. That's the inescapable fate of the Clash, which he's contemplating even on the verge of their greatest triumph, because.... Can't you hear the sighing Eastside Jimmy and Southside Sue Both say they needed something new America chews up artists and spits them out. He knows they may be the toast of the town one day and has-beens the next. I view the Eastside Jimmy and Southside Sue characters as a nod in the direction of Bruce Springsteen. So I'm standing at the gates of the west I burn money at the lights of the sign The city casts a shadow of the perfect crime The gates of the west is America or, more likely New York. While a bit obscure, I take the burning money and perfect crime references to be reflective of his feelings about the giant American record label he's committed his fate to. I'm standing at the gates of the east I take my pulse and the pulse of my friend The city casts a shadow, will I see you again? What an evocative line! Here's Mick and his bandmates standing in the shadow of London, looking to one another for courage as they step toward America. And he wonders if he'll ever see London in the same way again once he leaves. The immigrants an' remnants of all the glory years Are clustered around the bar again for another round of beers Little Richard's in the kitchen playing spoons and plates He's telling the waitress he's great The narrator imagines a roomful of has-beens and never-weres now ruefully reliving their glory years. While Little Richard, a symbol of greatness turned irrelevant has only an audience of a waitress to proclaim himself to. Left unsaid is the narrator's assumption that, someday, he'll end up there too. Ah say I know somewhere back'n'forth in time Out on the dustbowls, deep in the roulette mine Or in a ghetto cellar only yesterday There's a move into the future for the USA. An almost mystical line ricocheting across American history to once again come to the conclusion that, in America, things only move forward. There's today's news and yesterday's news. Because.... I hear them crying Eastside Jimmy and Southside Sue Both said they needed something new Standing at the gates of the west In the shadow again I'm standing at the gates of the west In the shadow again And here's where we leave him. caught between the shadows of his past and his future, wondering what will become of him. I hope this prompts some of you to discover (or rediscover) this wonderful song. And I'd love to hear your favorite Clash lyrics - and why you chose them.
"And every gimmick-hungry yob digging gold from rock 'n' roll Grabs the mike to tell us he'll die before he's sold But I believe in this - and it's been tested by research - He who f**ks nuns will later join the church Death or glory becomes just another story..."
Great choice. They were all over this kind of sentiment from the start. Witness this from White Man in Hammersmith Palais: Punk rockers in the UK They won't notice anyway They're all too busy fighting For a good place under the lighting The new groups are not concerned With what there is to be learned They got Burton suits, ha, you think it's funny Turning rebellion into money
A great Clash lyric from ' Straight To Hell ' " Let me tell ya ' bout your blood , bamboo kid. It ain' t Coca Cola , it' s rice."
Another brilliant one is Know Your Rights. It's a wonderfully concise microcosm of their politics: This is a public service announcement With guitar Know your rights All three of them Number one You have the right not to be killed Murder is a crime Unless it was done By a policeman Or an aristocrat Oh, know your rights I'm always impressed by the consistency of their message. Totally humanistic, sly but angry and eternally on the side of the little guy.
He's in love with rock'n'roll, woah He's in love with gettin' stoned, woah He's in love with Janie Jones, woah He don't like his boring job, no... Lemon Curry at 18
The greatest Clash lyric comes from (of all places) that horror of an album called "Cut The Crap." It is this line from the song "This Is England" that is The Clash's greatest lyric: Black shadow of the Vincent Falls on the Triumph line It is beyond brilliant. To take a common metaphor - a black shadow - but use it in the terms of bankrupt and defunct British motorcycle manufacturers in order to speak of the decline of Empire is stunning. Not just the greatest Clash lyric, but undeniably the greatest line in music history. And then Joe followed it up with a rather simple lyric, but one that is also very apt for the decline of the English: I got my motorcycle jacket But I'm walking all the time
He said go out and get me my old movie stills Go out and get me another roll of pills There I go again shaking, but I ain't got the chills ARRRGHHHGORRA BUH BHUH DO ARRRRGGGGHHHHNNNN!!!! The whole song is hysterical, devoted to an actor the average 20 y.o. in 1979 never heard of.
My all-time fav Clash lyric, no doubt fresh from the spliff tent when recorded... As the floods of God Wash away thin air They say it was written In the page of the Lord But I was looking For that great jazz note That destroyed The walls of Jericho The winds of fear Whip away the sickness The messages on the tablet Was Valium As the planets form That golden cross Lord I'll see you on The Holy Cross Roads After all this time To believe in Jesus After all those drugs I thought I was Him After all my lying And a-crying And my suffering I ain't good enough I ain't clean enough To be Him
When the Grenfell Tower tragedy occurred killing 72 residents of a council estate, I immediately thought of these Mick Jones lyrics (Up in Heaven): You can't live in a home which should not have been built By the bourgeoisie clerks who bear no guilt When the wind hits this building this building it tilts One day it will surely fall to the ground Fear is just another commodity here They sell us peeping holes to peek when we hear A bang on the door resoundingly clear Who would really want to move in here? The children play faraway, the corridors are bare This room is a cage it's like captivity How can anyone exist in such misery? It has been said not only here He was so, so right about all of it.
The first song I thought of when I read the thread title. Also, 'The Cost of Living' EP is one of my favorite records EVER!
They were given the grapes that go ripe in the sun That loosen the screws at the back of the tongue Four Horseman That's a couplet worthy of the Bard himself.
At the end of that song, Joe drops one of the funniest lines in music history as he makes a casual aside to someone in the studio "f**kin' long, innit?". The fact that it was left in is a perfect example of why I love the Clash so much.
Man, they really stepped their lyric game on London Calling. The line about the ragged army full of poets fixing bayonets in "Spanish Bombs" is practically Dylanesque. (in all the good ways )
I always thought the end of "Car Jamming" was cool: Hey fellas, hey fellas Lauren Bacall (in a car jam!) In a car jam Yeah, I don't believe it In a car jam Ah, yeah, positively-absolutely Great group. There was nothing like have Joe Strummer, on the night of June 23, 1982, in a particular nasty mood, give the finger (and the words to go with it) to all of us in attendance at the San Francisco Civic Auditorium and then charge into one of the most massively aggressive numbers of the night (which I don't specifically remember, just that it was very aggressive!)
From Guns of Brixton: When they knock on your front door How ya gonna come With your hands on your head Or on the trigger of your gun.
Love these two verses: To the opium den and the barroom gin In the Belmont chair playing violins The gambler's face cracks into a grin As he lays down the king of spades From the Hundred Year War to the Crimea With a lance and a musket and a Roman spear To all of the men who have stood with no fear In the service of the King
One of my faves as well. I quote it ( and sing it ) often although that last line gets many different interpretations from me..
So many great lines in The Magnificent Seven... Karlo Marx and Fredrich Engels Came to the checkout at the 7-11 Marx was skint but he had sense Engels lent him the necessary pence
New York, New York, 42nd Street Hustlers rustle and pimps pimp the beat Monty Clift is recognized at dawn He ain't got no shoes and his clothes are torn And everybody say, "Is he all right?" And everybody say, "What's he like?" And everybody say, "He sure look funny" That's that Montgomery Clift, honey I see a car smashed at night Cut the applause and dim the light Monty's face is broken on a wheel Is he alive? Can he still feel?