My Daddy Was a Bank Robber

Product Information

Wait, did I say nothing rising to the surface? Spoke too soon. Because this song would be nothing without Joe Strummer singing his most passionate &—yes—beautiful performance. His conviction is the engine that runs this train, seeing through all aspects of sound, vision, & vibe. The officer led me to a holding cell where I could talk with Dad. I sat in a chair and waited, wondering what I would say. Wearing an official-issue jumper, he entered the room, staring at the floor and looking ashamed. How dare he feel shame! I took the robberies personally: the way I figured, he'd traded me for money. I didn't care that he'd been faced with the worst financial crises of his life or that all those lonely nights with the bottle had clouded his judgment. My only concern was that he'd abandoned me. Money wasn't worth walking across the street for. It certainly wasn't worth robbing a bank for. He'd thrown everything away: his life, our life. My father lit a cigarette and waved out the match in a crazy figure 8. "Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd come over and visit my number-one daughter." Young Ian Brown and Pete Garner, later of the Stone Roses, were in attendance at the studio recording session of this single. According to Brown, having heard a rumour that the Clash were recording in Manchester, he and Garner were walking through the city centre when they overheard Topper Headon playing the drums at the city's Pluto Studios: Headon subsequently emerged from the studio and invited the pair in. [5] [6] The full account of this incident is in John Robb's Stone Roses and the Resurrection of British Pop. [7]

Gray, Marcus (2005) [1995]. The Clash: Return of the Last Gang in Town (5th reviseded.). London: Helter Skelter. ISBN 1-905139-10-1. OCLC 60668626. Released by the Clash in the August of 1980—the first new music after their artistic pinnacle of the previous December's London Calling—"Bankrobber" was put out as a stand-alone single. It reached #12 on the UK pop charts, which makes it the biggest hit on their native soil outside of the anthemic #11 "London Calling" & their sole #1 hit, "Should I Stay Or Should I Go." About a week ago, I guess. I don't know what else to do. I've really had it, you know? With everything. With Molly, the little liar. Did you know she was arrested for forging prescriptions? I have no idea what she'll do next. I tell you, Jennifer, only believe about eighty percent of what your heart says. Always keep a little in reserve. As you and I both know, there's always some charming and conniving little fake out there looking to break your heart." Sometimes Dad came looking for me, ostensibly because he was worried. He'd complain about my poor judgment, just as he had in Minneapolis: "All I have to do is drive to the worst part of town and that's where I'll always find you." He was just lonely, though. He wanted me to hide with him in the beige fortress, but that was impossible. I was just starting out and his life was closing in.Ross from Leicester, United KingdomMikey Dread has died since then - hope he'd seen some royalties by then. Central to the song is its sense of romanticism. As previously noted, there is no violence in the song, as opposed to what one might find in source material like The Harder They Come or latter-day outlaw gangsta rappers like Tupac & Notorious B.I.G. Compared with these heavy cultural products, "Bankrobber" sounds like the folksong that it is—not afraid to look death in the eye but doing so in a way that feels oddly distanced & refreshing. Robb, John (2001) [1997]. The Stone Roses and the Resurrection of British Pop (Rev.ed.). London: Ebury. ISBN 978-0-09-187887-0. OCLC 59545827. We moved into a moderately priced town house in Kirkland. The town house perfectly suited Dad's needs. It was clean, generic, and a safe distance from the city's core. It represented, if not affluence, at least middle-class stability. It was also anonymous enough to serve as a hideout. At forty-two, my father had been flushed of the urge to draw attention to himself, preferring to get by quietly. He furnished the place in much the same way he'd furnished the town house in Hopkins, with earth tones and prefab shelving and television stands.

Green, Johnny; Barker, Garry (2003) [1997]. A Riot of Our Own: Night and Day with The Clash (3rded.). London: Orion. ISBN 0-7528-5843-2. OCLC 52990890. I ran my hand through my hair and marveled at how a man could be so good and so bad at the same time. I hear it less as a set of interconnected verses than I do an unintended narrative. If we take the Clash at their word (& the Clash are nothing of not literalists), the old man at the bar can mean "the old man," as in, "My daddy," i.e., the Bankrobber. It makes sense that he never went to prison (he never hurt nobody) & his wisdom about "serving one machine" could be either the life that drove him to bank robbing or a metaphor for the society that gave him the job in the first place. Needs, Kris (25 January 2005). Joe Strummer and the Legend of the Clash. London: Plexus. ISBN 0-85965-348-X. OCLC 53155325. Bankrobber’ has now been solidified in history as one of The Clash’s most memorable non-album singles, but at the time, critics weren’t so sure. Some people were alienated by the band’s continued deviation from an original more punk-oriented sound following 1979’s London Calling, but over the decades, this more experimental era for the group has been widely revered.Bankrobber’ is an interesting one,” Jones once told Daniel Rachel, author of The Art of Noise: Conversations with Great Songwriters, discussing the song. “I think my dad was a bank robber’s assistant. There was talk of him driving getaway cars. He was a cab driver, but he drove for other people. Joe wrote the words. The songs are like folk songs. They’ve become like traditional songs. A lot of it was based on truth. We made it so everybody could relate to it. It wasn’t exactly the truth; for instance, in ‘Lost in the Supermarket’, I didn’t have a hedge in the suburb. I lived in a council flat. A lot of the time, it got mythologised.” As such, the melody doesn't change, the rhythm doesn't change, the tempo doesn't change, the feel doesn't change. What makes it seem deceptively flat is the same thing that gives it its strength — every part leans equally on the other, nothing rising to the surface. The Clash's "Bankrobber" is one of those rare songs in which nothing should work, but everything somehow does.