Mick Jones. Clash-er, guitar-wielder, Brixton superhero.06/26/55.
If you thought I was gonna post anything other than "This Is Radio Clash" in tribute to Mr. Jones, there's just no hope for our relationship at this point. Those faux-ominous booms and that cackle at the beginning like the sound of a villain entering the room! C'MON. There was no other option. Get your mind right.
Oh and did I mention: CLAPS, echo, lasers, bassline, Strummer trying to get me to take my pants off with his vocal stylings, and on and on.
(That "Teheran" screencap, too--planet Earth's cyclical history game is the tightest)
The real question here is, why the fuck don't you go 'head and make me something just as great as this piece of banging sonic bliss? They did it in '81 and I need more in these current times. Hurry, please.
Years later (i.e., today), Mick wears a suit and demonstrates what time does to beautiful tortured young Cockney punk boys when they outgrow their vices. Sigh, oh dear, that's unfortunate, etc.Look at your boy next to him, though! Laugh out loud!
That's how we'd all feel if it were us getting snapped with Mick, most definitely.
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