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Where were you when you first heard that OJ was acquitted? When the challenger shuttle exploded? When Ben Johnson tested positive for steroid use? When the first plane crashed into the World Trade Centre?
History is filled with these big transcendental moments that ‘everyone’ vividly remembers and inevitably remembers exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard about it, saw it on television, etc. Similarly big musical history moments include the Milli Vanilli lip synch debacle, Michael Jackson and the dangling baby, and of course all those iconic musician deaths, like Kurt Cobain’s overdose and John Lennon’s murder. For me, the heart attack death of Joe Strummer could also be categorized as one of these moments.
On December 23rd, 2002, twenty-three years ago today, I was working a shift at my call centre job. I had gotten special permission to work out of the Toronto call centre, something I would do for a couple of years after that because it allowed Victoria and I to make the trip down from Ottawa a few days before Christmas and spend more time with her mother. That first Monday I was sat at an empty cubicle in a quad of highly seasoned call centre agents and the mood was jovial and festive. There were treats and laughter and music and I was not at all excluded from the in-between call festivities. Luckily for me, my neighbour had her radio station tuned EDGE 102, the modern rock station I used to tune in to before moving to Ottawa, which meant a more than tolerable soundtrack. At some point during the Dean Blundell morning show, the news was shared about Joe Strummer’s death the day before and they followed it by playing “London calling”.
At that time, I was still only a casual Clash fan, really only knowing the hits, but I definitely knew who Strummer was, what he stood for, and his importance to not just to alternative rock, but all of rock history. And I couldn’t help but feel some sadness at knowing the punk rock icon was no longer with us.
A handful of years later, I had changed jobs for better pay and for work more in line with my writing background. I had also become much more versed in The Clash’s back catalogue but hadn’t really delved into Strummer’s solo work, nor his material recorded with his new band, The Mescaleros. One of my new work colleagues, Ian, a fellow music nerd who had grown up in the Montreal punk and record store scene, was really keen to change this. He loaned me his CD copy of “Streetcore”, which, he explained, was the final album by Joe Strummer and his Messcaleros. It was the album Strummer was working on when he died and was released posthumously the following year. I listened to it a couple of times through at work before bringing it home to rip myself a copy. Yeah, I loved it, just like Ian knew I would.
“And the rain came in from the wide blue yonder
I thought you and me might wander
Oh, Coma Girl and the excitement gang
Mona Lisa on a motorcycle gang”
“Coma girl” starts off the album with a heart racing guitar line and Strummer’s rough-hewn vocals but when the bopping and jiving bass line pops, you know it’s not going to be just a straightforward rock song. Indeed, Strummer’s love for ska and reggae shines brightly through on this one. It’s full of joy and sunshine. The girl of the title is cool for cats, hanging tough at a music festival and taking it all in, said to be based on Strummer’s daughter, who at times joined him on tour. Even if it’s not true, it’s a compelling image to go along with an instantly replayable and relatable track. So effortlessly good.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2003 list, click here.
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