Good Morning, welcome back (or thanks for your first ever visit), I’m armed with coffee and a touch of melancholy today. Some sour things (there’s a trio of deaths lingering around us this week….these things really do happen in threes) are offset by the fact that the sun is out the breeze is lovely and Arsenal just won another critical game (staying alive one game at a time) and if Wolves can win in the next hour a pint of lager will be in order later on.

I’ve only got one real bit of news this morning but I’m quite excited about it. Since the earliest days of the blog I’ve always felt it natural to lend our support to Strummerville as much as possible. As most of you know Strummerville was established shortly after the death of Joe by Lucinda Strummer who oversaw the original ideas behind the trust, she remains a trustee. I don’t think it would be wrong of me to say that for many of those who love Joe and The Clash that Strummerville has become a living, breathing idea keeping alive the spirit of Strummer. If not the embodiment of what Joe was all about then certainly as near as we can ask for. If someone had to keep the ideals going, far better that it was the people who work hard each day for Strummerville than CBS/Sony, the rock and roll hall of fame, or some other option. Elvis has Graceland and Strummer has Strummerville, having experienced both I know which side our bread is buttered on. What’s remarkable about the trust is the growing diversity of projects that they support, you may be surprised at the breadth of work that they now do. The assistance they provide in developing new music is about the most fitting tribute to Joe Strummer that I can imagine.

Joe was someone who never gave up his desire to make a difference via music and relished sharing his love of new artists from all avenues. From his boyhood days in boarding school being obsessed with listening to pirate radio under the covers, to his final touring when nothing made him happier than digging through a record shop to see what he could uncover and add to his carrier bag. His passion for music never waned. For some of us the importance of music in our life remains as critical in our 30’s, 40’s, 50’s as it did when we waited for the next single by our favourite band when we were thirteen. It seems though that for so many getting an education, a good job, having a family, new hobbies gradually relegate music until it becomes little more than a soft soundtrack to life in general and the passion for new music flickers out and then dies. I can’t relate to that. I’ve been asked ‘why do you still care so much about music?’ and ‘why didn’t you grow out of being excited about new bands’ – I’ve been just as confused by their stance when reality TV, a bigger car, or new golf clubs take the place in their heart and desire that used to be occupied by music. I’ve never found a substitute for music and I hope I never do – I feel lucky to be in the same place that Joe Strummer always seemed to be – that the next record you hear might be one of the best you’ve ever heard. Accidentally (as usual) I’ve gone way off topic.

I write about Strummerville today as I’m thrilled and honoured to announce an exclusive interview with Trish Whelan the Charity Director at Strummerville. Trish is just getting all the loose ends together for the trip to the SXSW festival in Austin which is having a huge slice of Strummer related events (see yesterday’s post). As much as I lament living in a world without Strummer (I constantly read ‘we really need Joe Strummer in days like these’) I think we should be thankful that we have a world with Strummerville and the work that they do.

I’ll ask Trish as many questions as I can think of but hoped you might be able to help me out with other ideas? If there is a specific question you have for Trish about Strummerville I’d love to include it when we speak. Email me via the blog – or contact me via the facebook page or twitter – I’ll do all I can to get all questions answered. I know Strummerville are proud and excited at the growth of these last six years and a growing profile in North America can be anticipated. Get in touch – this will be fun.

Cheers – Tim

December 22nd, years ago this date held no significance to me and since 2002 it’s become a date on the calendar that sometimes I feel needs to be endured and when in better spirits a date to be celebrated. It was a mild (for December) day in the West Country of England and windy, a Sunday afternoon and the last weekend shopping day before Christmas that holiday season. As it turned out that was part of the reason why Joe Strummer died alone as his wife Lucinda had taken the girls out for some last minute Christmas shopping. According to what I’ve read she’d asked if he’d like to come but he refused saying he was a bit tired.

2002 had been a good year for Joe, fresh from a UK tour which saw the Mescaleros playing new material from the still unrecorded third album that would later become Streetcore with Lucinda Strummer overseeing his notes. Joe was impassioned about his new band and it was easy to see why, live they were a versatile band and Strummer was at ease playing Clash songs as well as cover versions while not making the new material marginal in any sense of the word. I’d seen Joe Strummer live the December before (if memory serves) and was thrilled at how great he looked, how at ease with his growing status as the elder statesman of punk. He still insisted on working hard, touring a lot and spending as much time with the fans as was possible. Funny that, the same things that perhaps caused The Clash too self destruct were what he lived for and I guess he always did. Lucinda lamented that she wished they had more time together but Joe always wanted to tour, to play the music, to meet the people who bought the records. In one of those moments that seems too unlikely even for a film Joe was even joined on stage by Mick Jones in Acton for the final songs of his set on November 15th, just 5 weeks before he died. Remarkably this was one of his last ever performances at the tour ended just a week later in Liverpool. Everything happens for a reason I’m always told, and so it may be.

The Mescaleros album was looking  set to be recorded that forthcoming Spring, Joe was also writing a song with Bono and Dave Stewart for the Mandela Day concert that was just six weeks away. The wasteland of the 1990’s now seemed to have been firmly behind Joe as the press (who always were tough on him post-Clash) were seemingly now seeing him as having matured into an elder, better (?) and more resourceful campaigner now that punk rock had been cleaned up and filed under ‘fad’. In some senses the fact that Joe was now on the BBC world service sharing his love for all types of music and being interviewed more frequently that at any point since the early 1980’s had put Strummer back on the map. Cynics say he was becoming part of the establishment, I beg to differ and suggest you watch the Dick Rude Joe Strummer documentary DVD “Let’s Rock Again” – Joe was never seeking to be part of the establishment, much less were doors ever being opened for him.

However I think what hurt the most for me when the news appeared on my computer screen was the feeling that “NO – HE’S STILL GOT TOO MUCH WORK TO DO, SO MUCH TO SAY”, I know that’s what I was feeling (along with the despair, anger, turmoil and grief) I’d been playing Global A-Go-Go almost daily since it was released in July of 2001. That album meant so much to me, when the events of September 2001 befell the United States it seemed at such odds with what Strummer was singing (and he so loved New York). Global A-Go-Go was about unity and reflection, it was about the world being far more interesting a proposition without walls and borders, without fear and hate. The stranger danger of The Clash lyric had now been replaced by an older seasoned Strummer who wrote on Bhindi Bhagee about strangers once more, this time though inclusion was his goal.

Welcome stranger to the humble neighborhoods
You can get inspiration along the highroad

That album marked such a fantastic accomplishment for Strummer in terms of music, blending sounds from around the world and styles from the delta right back to West London. Joe was back and knowing a new album was in the works was so exciting, I couldn’t wait to see him live again…perhaps this time I’d have the courage to try and get my 7″ single of ‘Tommy Gun’ signed. I was always too nervous to try and meet Joe previously, something about that seemed too lofty for me…funny how much I regret such a daft fear now.

So it was that later on that Sunday afternoon Joe Strummer took his dog/dogs (depends what you read) for his normal early evening walk on the fields near his home in Broomfield, Somerset. By best accounts he concluded his walk, took the dog off the lead and then sat in his favourite chair to read a copy of the newspaper. That would be the last event of Joe’s life, as he passed away in that chair due to an undiagnosed congential heart defect.

I can’t begin to fully explain how badly I reacted, I’m too guarded to share how fucking devastated I was, 2002 had been a difficult year, my marriage right at it’s very ending and I was learning how to be single again. Facing Christmas was the last thing I fancied that winter and then I turned on the computer to see a yahoo headline from the Associated Press that simply read:

Punk legend Joe Strummer dead aged 50

I clicked on the link hoping I’d misread the headline, or that somehow maybe this was some shit dream that would stop as soon as the alarm went off. I clicked and waited, the odyssey that began for this eleven year old kid hearing The Clash from his brother’s bedroom was now suddenly over. I was 35 and my hero was dead at 50, I suddenly felt really old and angry about everything. I remember thinking how can Strummer be dead when (various people I abhor) are still living? This is so wrong, crying like a kid I remember playing Nitcomb from Rock Art and The X-Ray Style, I played it maybe four or five times, dug out my Clash vinyl and had a brutally sad morning playing records, looking at pictures and getting ready for a world without Joe Strummer.

As you enter our house there are some shelves, and instead of the traditional photos of weddings and babies I have a framed black and white photo of Strummer. It’s positioned to be noticed only as I leave the house…that’s when I need him the most.

Tim

Well it’s that time of year isn’t it – and I’m not talking about presents and religous holidays. Tomorrow marks the 7th anniversary of the death of Joe Strummer. Where do I begin to write about that tomorrow? Since I started the Clash Blog I’ve enjoyed covering many of the positive news and future developments around the band members and their exploits, however on a regular basis the nagging reminder that this is only running on three cyclinders is never far from my thoughts.

I wish I was writing about Joe Strummer’s new record and tour – and not his memorial concerts. I wish Joe was visiting Mick’s exhibition this past Summer along with Lucinda instead of her without him. I wish Joe had seen this decade unfold and heard what he had to say. However, wishing won’t change anything and I dare say many of you share these sentiments so I won’t ramble on about what isn’t.

Tomorrow I’ll try and explain what Joe Strummer means to me – I think it important to keep that in the present tense. I wasn’t friends with Joe or The Clash….I didn’t spend time with him or them. I was lucky enough to be exposed to their music and views at an early age and it profoundly shaped who I’ve become. Not ‘knowing’ Joe I suppose should make much it easier then right? Of course the grief we (as ‘fans’) share is somehow more pedestrian than the loss felt by his family and close friends. I hope that those same people are still being inspired by Joe seven years on, I know many people are.

Somehow the loss of Joe has made people explore the depths of the man with greater scrutiny and (usually) respect. I’m not a seasoned journalist looking to put The Clash on a pedestal and compare in terms of importance with The Beatles or The Stones, The Doors or The Velvet Underground, Oasis or Blur. I can only write about how The Clash and therefore by default Joe impacted my life. I’ve learned over the months of doing the blog that my ‘knowledge’ of The Clash, of punk and the scene that spawned it is still growing and so many of you have so much to offer. It could be your age, your location, the people you know or ‘dedication’ to the band and its great to share those experiences – but I know we share that one crucial thing our memory that  – THE CLASH MEANT SOMETHING – (and were somehow ‘ours’)

I’ve lost people in my life of course as we all have. When you know them personally its different, you have a personal relationship and ideally you’ve had a chance to say how you appreciate, respect and love them. I do think our sole purpose is  building positive relationships and being good to those we care about. With Joe it was different, I never was able to say thank you, never had a chance to explain how he shaped my youth and then my adult life, I was 11 when I first heard The Clash and 35 when Joe died – I lost such a great friend.

I won’t start a contest about how much it hurt to lose Strummer…at some point (maybe this year…but probably not) I’ll try and explain how late December of 2002 went for me. For whatever reason there were difficult changes all year long (many of which were on the face of it more relevant) but the loss of Joe right before Christmas allowed me to grieve for a long while. Fuck it was difficult wasn’t it? Strummer couldn’t die….that wasn’t part of the plan. If you want to write something about Joe….please please do so in the comments section (or I can extra posts tomorrow)

It took me a few years to realise that his death didn’t mean the end of what his life was about…and hopefully in some strange way it elevated it to a new place. Some days it makes me bloody angry, other days a bit gloomy but most days I feel fortunate – fortunate that I knew a band could change your life – and that trying to be a decent person was more important than possessions, accomplishments or recognition. Strummer never stopped trying to be decent and make a difference. Despite his many faults he never stopped growing – that’s a good life in my book.