#9 The Clash - London Calling

Continuing on the somewhat chronological theme that has enveloped my writing, beginning with the first album I ever bought in the last post on Linkin Park's Meteora, I am going to take you back further to a land of SMTV live, Godzilla and Action Men. Oh yes readers, we're going to delve into my childhood.

As a young boy, like most of you guys out there, I was hugely influenced by my Dad's tastes, who spent evening after evening pumping out music from his now 1,000 strong CD collection on a speaker system bigger than I was. From Bob Marley to Black Sabbath, the Sex Pistols to Graham Parker, some of the greatest music to grace 20th Century ears was blasted out on a regular basis, and now acts as a constant musical monologue to some of my earliest memories.

One particular song that left more than a mark upon me was The Clash's "Rudi Can't Fail". An album track from their seminal album "London Calling", Rudi is an upbeat, streetwise ode to liberation, a call to arms for those that share Strummers insistence that they can't "live in service".

However, for me - I was convinced it was about Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. The chorus line of "Rudi Can't Fail" over and over convinced me that it was about the crimson faced helper's ability to deliver all the presents at Christmas. I know, but I was about 5. I even remember telling a man dressed up as Santa about it, under the impression he'd be delighted at my appreciation of what I must have thought was his anthem.

However, as time went on, and I realised that the ska-punk hybrid was not a reference to Christmas delivery in anyway, I still continued to enjoy it with the same childhood optimism, even if it wasn't based on the same misinformation.

Personal anecdotes aside, the album is a masterpiece. Combining the gritty, fist pumping elements of punk with the still relatively unheard inflections of Ska and reggae, London Calling is probably the most musical and concisely written of all punk albums. In fact, it's not really a punk album. It lacks the animalistic aggression that coloured say, The Sex Pistols "Never Mind The Bollocks", but makes up for it in artistic expression and Strummers poetic rallying calls.

Rebellious rather than anarchic, and measured frustration than blind rage, The Clash's London Calling is the thinking man's revolution. And to me, a flashback to a delightfully simpler time when Rudi just meant the festive creature.

The Countdown begins: #10: Linkin Park - Meteroa

It's 2003. The USA have just invaded Iraq, Boybands are still depressingly relevant and Dewey, the world's first cloned Deer, is born in a Texas University.

Culturally, the world is still yet to embrace Social Media, defining the early part of the 21st Century as a modern time, but still holding onto the quaint restraints of the 90's, huge mobile phones and home PC's, probably named as such because of their size.


Underpinning all of this, like a cockroach to a floorboard was a odd sounding type of rock music, combining heavy, groove centred rifforama type sequences with borrowed techniques from modern hip hop and rap music, from "MC" style deliveries to the noticeable use of DJ Decks and "sratchy" sounds.

This music, known as "Nu Metal" landed in 1994 when Korn brought out their self titled first album, an opus filled with a combination of the aforementioned music topped off with an insight into singer Jonathan Davis's mind, a desolate place filled with paranoia and self loathing.

Anyway, this movement snowballed throughout the late 90's penetrating the minds of kids everywhere already infatuated with Pokemon and WWF, but still harboured enough self respect to avoid S Club 7.

Which is where this leads to me. I was a 10 year old kid fresh from discovering AC/DC and School Of Rock(A film that consolodated my adoration for all the Rock 'N Roll cliche's, including wearing top hats and rolling around the floor like Angus Young) I stumbled upon "Numb" on Kerrang Radio and immediately fell in love with the melodic, deep chorus against the sound of a gut wrenchingly heavy guitar.

I loved the simplicity of it. From the 30 second intro that leads to fist pumping "Don't Stay", to the soul searching sounds of "Somewhere I Belong" and "From The Inside", I was hooked.

For me, a naive and budding Rock fan, it molded the deliciously easy-to-hum riffs of AC/DC with the age old concept of a repeatable and relatable chorus. It connected to my soon-to-be teenage angst and gave me a t-shirt to wear, an album to stand by and a love to pursue.

The one song that hit me hard apart from the introductory "Numb" was percussion powered rock-club anthem "Faint". The almost Superman style synths, the air drumming awesomeness of the beats, and the powerful chorus making an appearance once again, it was a combination of the things I wanted to hear, I just hadn't heard them before.

It was the first album I bought, and had a profound effect on my tastes, and still to certain extent colours my perspective.

Everytime Kerrang TV put on a "Nu Metal" countdown, or someone mentions Lnkin Park, Korn or Limp Bizkit in conversation, or I'm flicking through my ipod, and those synths hit; the 10 year old inside me smiles.