Punk Legends' Last Stand At The Apollo

Nov 18 2007

Backstage with The Clash At Scotland's most notorious punk show

THE death of punk legend Joe Strummer almost five years ago stunned a generation.

Blistering gigs by his band The Clash won a devoted army of fans and they left behind a legacy of classics like White Riot, Hate And War and White Man In Hammersmith Palais.

But Strummer's legacy lives on after his death, aged 50, in December 2002.

Chris Salewicz was a writer with the New Musical Express when punk exploded in 1976 and went on the road with The Clash.

To mark the paperback publication of his book - Redemption Song: The Definitive Biography of Joe Strummer - Chris relives Scotland's most notorious punk concert on July 4, 1978 when The Clash played the legendary Glasgow Apollo.

"I've been watching live music for 35 years and seen hundreds of bands at thousands of gigs.

And I've never seen anything like it.

I was just staggered. The bouncers and the crowd were trying to dismember each other. It was war.

The tour was called The Clash On Parole - very ironic as two of them ended up in jail that night.

I first saw The Clash play live in October 1976 and was blown away.

I had done some stuff with them through 1977 and we got along well enough that by the summer of 1978, the plan was to join them on tour.

They had just done two gigs in Manchester - one at the Apollo and an even better one at a club called Rafters - before heading to Glasgow.

I took the train up and after checking in at the hotel, The Albany I think, headed to the Apollo.

The band were already there. Guitarist Mick Jones and Paul Simonon, who played bass, had always been very open with me.

Joe took a bit more time but over the months we had been going to the same clubs in London and we were getting on a lot better.

He was often wound tight for one reason or another but even Joe seemed relaxed in Glasgow.

He used to call me Sandwich and he said to me: "Sandwich, you're an intelligent man. Help me with this."

And I helped him strap up the "Strummerguard" - bandages and tape to stop him ripping his arm apart as he hammered down on the strings of his guitar.

The only thing that made me think twice was when a bouncer pulled up his shirt in a corridor.

He started pointing out bruises and scars on his stomach saying:

"That was Bowie last month. This was The Faces. This big scar was the last time The Clash were here."

Later, the rumour was that the Clash show had been the last gig at the Apollo before it shut for a refurbishment and the bouncers had been settling scores.

To be honest, I think it was just one of those nights.

There were so many different elements. The atmosphere was so charged. The band were awesome, never better.

White Man In Hammersmith Palais had just come out and a lot of the songs from their second album Give 'Em Enough Rope were getting played live for the first time.

So The Clash had power like never before and on top of that there was a real feeling of violence, of extreme danger.

Usually I'd have been by the stage or out front but for some reason I was up on the balcony and could see it all unfolding below me.

The bouncers were standing in front of the high stage and you could see their white shirts wading into the crowd and dragging people around.

You would see two or three white shirts around someone then your eyes would be pulled somewhere else. It was happening all over the place.

The set was blistering but it was stop and start with the band shouting at the bouncers to calm down.

Eventually Joe went down to try to stop the fighting. He climbed back up on stage and he was on his knees saying: "Simmer down...control your temper."

It was a line from a Bob Marley song but I didn't realise that until later. At the time it just sounded like something Joe would say.

But nobody was listening. They were all too busy beating each other up.

Anyway they hurtled into White Riot - the very last thing that place needed to hear - and it went off again.

It was thrilling but there was a feelings of real terror, like things were tipping out of control.

As the band came off stage one of the bouncers said to Joe: "Now we're going to have you."

We didn't hang about. We all piled out of the stage door and there were a lot of fans out in the alley behind the hall.

They started on at Joe saying the band could have done more to stop the bouncers and it was just winding him up even more.

I was worried about Joe on that tour. At times he seemed to be at the end of his tether, like he was about to implode.

He had recently had hepatitis and was drinking R. White's lemonade all the time so he had this bottle in his hand and threw it to the ground in frustration.

Next thing, these two plain clothes cops stepped forward and threw Joe into a police van.

It was so sudden it took me a few seconds to realise what was happening then I saw Paul whowalking towards the van.

Suddenly this other policeman pulled out something that looked like a medieval torture instrument. It had chains and looked like a mace or something.

He hit Simonon with it and he was off to the cells as well.

Joe later told me that Paul had so many zips on his trousers that the cops had missed some speed in one of them and they took it. Hardly the ideal place to be "speeding" but there you go!

Back in the Apollo, the management had brought in a crate of beer and a stripper to divert the bouncers from beating up any more fans. So she was doing her stuff on the stage in front of the hall that was empty apart from these massive big guys, surging with adrenalin.

Joe and Paul were in court the next morning with Joe doing the full Marlon Brando impression in the dock.

There were fines for both of them and then we all piled into this big Ford Granada and steamed up to Aberdeen for a show that night. I'm not surprise at the continuing interest in Joe and The Clash. He meant so much to people...not just Clash fans.

He was genuinely interested in everyone he came across, from artistocrats to guttersnipes.

It was after the gig in Aberdeen that I spoke to Joe about his Scottish roots.

His mum was from Bonar Bridge in the Highlands and his Scottishness was important to him. He was passionate about it.

A few weeks before he died Joe had been up for a family wedding in Scotland. One of his relatives was selling a croft and Joe was really up for buying it.

On the way back home he was on the phone to everyone telling them his plan.

I'm sure that had he had lived, Joe would have had that croft. I can almost see him in it."

Redemption Song: The Definitive Biography of Joe Strummer, published by Harper Collins, £10.99