Strummerville: Radio Clash & No Ordinary Joe!

I met Joe Strummer three times in my life, each time he gave me meaning and light, never wanting anything in return…

The first time was in a place called Shotton in North Wales, most famous for two things: its Steelworks and the Deeside Leisure Centre. It was at the latter early in 1980 where The Clash played, and was a defining moment in my life. I had waited so long to see The Clash live; this was a band that mattered, this wasn’t music, this was a lifestyle… After watching the band play myself with some friends hung outside the venue hoping to catch a glimpse of our heroes.

I was the kid with the ‘boombox’ a cassette tape/radio combo that sounded oh so good loud, and boy did we push the level to the max. It was in the freezing cold night when a door opened after around twenty minutes and a voice shouted ‘What’s that you are listening to?’ it happened to be a tape called ‘NY Beats’ which included a 7 minute ‘Adventures Of Grandmaster Flash’ all recorded from 12″ Vinyl that someone had brought me back from New York City. That voice was Joe Strummer who preceeded to invite me and my friends inside the inner sanctum of the leisure centre where we played the entire tape from start to finish and Joe just loved it. He signed my vinyl, he signed my t-shirt and he said that I should never let that boombox go! We left after around an hour with the satisfaction that not only had we just seen our heroes live, and then met them, but they were everything and more that we belived they would be. The long walk home consisted of disbelief and hope, and for weeks, even months, we told everyone that would listen. And today 30 years later on the anniversary of the death of Joe Strummer it remains a landmark moment in my life…

The second time I met Joe was during the one and only time I went to Glastonbury. I was walking through the middle of the field and standing right in front of me playing his guitar was Joe. I listened and was reminded how great a talent he really was. I introduced myself, told him what I did in life, he said, “Round here, we are all the same, just doing what we do, playing and listening to music.”

I stayed around where they were camped for the entire festival, watched some bands, drank some beer, smoked some dope, sat around the campfire. During the late evening on the last night of the stay at the festival I got out that boombox and was playing a compilation tape of dub, punk, new wave and rock which happened by chance to include ‘Radio Clash’. It was at this point a voice shouted “Turn that up, I haven’t heard it sound that good in years.” Once again it was Joe, so I brought out the box and he recognised it, and then remembered where we had met once before, he asked me about the ‘Beats’ tape and I had it in the car. I played it once again only this time sitting with the man, listening to his New York tales, I felt at home, I felt like this was what festivals were about. I never returned to Glastonbuty because I never felt I could ever replicate the moment or better it, therefore once would always be enough, and to this day it has been…

The third time I met Joe was at Liverpool university during a tour with The Mescaleros. I was astounded at how many people tried to go to watch Joe that night and how many said ‘Who?’. I was even more shocked at the amount of people I told over the weeks that I had seen him and they said ‘So What?’.

By this time I had been ensconsed in becoming a live music promoter, writer and DJ, so this time I had guest tickets and was a ‘face’ in the crowd, in my mind I mattered. I had become something or somebody who deserved to get into gigs for free, yet during the show it became evident that next to the likes of Joe I meant nothing. I had achieved little if anything and had become someone who ten years earlier I would have not liked or even wanted to speak to. It was a revelation to me and a realisation that what we do defines us, who we are reminds us of where we have come from and where we are going. You should never believe the hype.

Meeting Joe post-show, his kindness, sharp wit and sheer bloody belief in what he was doing once again inspired me. He asked me if I still had the ‘box’ I said yes, and his reply was ‘good’. Here was a man who was now spoken of as a legend yet here was a man who would help anyone if he could, wanting nothing in return, for no other reason than ‘He wanted to’. It was something that stuck with me, and I hope still does today. It took him to die to become the true legend in the eyes of the general public, but Joe was never there for them, he was here to do exactly what he did do, and after his death he continues to inspire, to create and to influence a whole new audience for his music and for artists to create their own… That’s a true legacy… Oh yeah, by the way… I still have that boombox, it still works and that ‘Beats’ tape never sounded better… Jj: Dec 2010