Buzzsaw guitars, a lack of musical proficiency, and lyrics about anarchy; the distinctive sound of first-wave punk rock became tiresome very quickly. As it turns out, there are only so many songs you can construct with three simple guitar chords and a book on political theory for beginners, which left many of the early punk groups with nowhere left to go. In contrast, The Clash managed to keep their popularity and relevance for years after the punk flame had been snuffed out. The enduring success of the Joe Strummer-fronted outfit was largely down to their diversity in sound, which they established from the very beginning,

If you look across the entirety of The Clash’s celebrated discography, you will find clear influences of old-school rockabilly, blues rock, and even hip-hop. Perhaps the most obvious influences on Strummer and company, however, came from the diverse world of reggae, ska and rocksteady. These musical styles first originated in mid-century Jamaica, inspired by American R&B, and quickly spread across the world as the definitive sound of the Caribbean. In the UK, the joyous sounds of ska and rocksteady arrived with the Windrush generation, and the respective members of The Clash were keen to take notice.

The Clash were not the only white rock band in Britain to embrace reggae music. In fact, during the early days of punk, dub reggae was the sound-du-jour for legendary punk venues like Covent Garden’s The Roxy Club, so the distinctive rhythm and off-beat percussion of the genre soon became inseparable from the scene. Groups like The Slits, The Ruts and, later, The Specials began to combine punk rock with reggae, with undeniably brilliant results. However, nobody did it quite like The Clash.

From their earliest releases, The Clash’s love of reggae music was clear. It was so much so that their stunning 1977 debut featured a cover of the ska classic ‘Police and Thieves’, originally written and performed by Junior Murvin alongside legendary reggae producer Lee “Scratch” Perry. As their discography progressed, The Clash never lost their appreciation for the Caribbean music style, with some of their all-time greatest compositions having roots in reggae music.

Five songs by The Clash that paid homage to reggae:

‘Police and Thieves’

The Clash’s eponymous debut album wasted no time in establishing the musical manifesto of the Joe Strummer-fronted group, calling to tear down the establishment and question authority in every form. Nestled towards the end of side two, however, the group also espoused their deep appreciation for ska music, covering Junior Murvin’s ‘Police and Thieves’.

The cover is certainly a stand-out from across the album, and helped to establish The Clash as being different from the deluge of other punk bands springing up around London. ‘Police and Thieves’ also brought punk music and The Clash onto the radar of the truly iconic reggae producer Lee “Scratch” Perry, who ended up working with the band on the production of their 1977 single ‘Complete Control’.

‘Wrong ‘Em Boyo’

Punk had taken something of a backseat by the time the 1970s came to a close, but a few entrepreneuring young bands in the Midlands were making waves with their own combination of ska and punk. The 2 Tone scene of Coventry was vitally important, but the sound which it claimed to establish had clearly been influenced by The Clash. Their 1979 record London Calling featured a plethora of reggae influences, most notably on ‘Wrong ‘Em Boyo’, which would have sounded right at home on the 2 Tone label.

The song itself is a cover of The Rulers’ 1967 track of the same name, which The Clash reportedly had on a jukebox in their rehearsal space at the time. In typical Clash fashion, however, the band increased the tempo of the reggae track, bringing it up-to-date for the adrenaline junkies of the punk age. 

‘Revolution Rock’

Another excellent reggae cover which appeared on London Calling was ‘Revolution Rock’, which had originally been released by Kingston-born, London-based reggae singer Danny Ray. The singer had held a heavy presence on the Trojan Records label during the early 1970s, at the peak of the first wave of the skinhead subculture, prior to setting up his own independent label.

It was in 1976 that Ray first released ‘Revolution Rock’ but it went largely unnoticed. Luckily, the seven-inch vinyl found its way into the hands of a young Paul Simonon, who held a deep appreciation for its groove and meaning. For their version, The Clash altered some of the lyrics to the original, which featured a message of self-motivation, to make the track more relevant to the punk movement and the political standpoint of the group, but it remained a faithful homage to Ray’s original.

‘Armagideon Time’

Reggae tracks don’t often come as iconic as Willie Williams’ 1979 track ‘Armagideon Time’. Recorded by Coxsone Dodd in Jamaica and released via the legendary reggae label Studio One, the track is pretty self-explanatory, detailing the plight of modern man and a decline in quality of life. Obviously, these themes were already very much part of The Clash’s repertoire, so it should come as no surprise that the band chose to cover Williams’ track for the B-side of ‘London Calling’. 

Although the original single was only released shortly before ‘London Calling’, giving the group limited time in which to hear, learn and rearrange the reggae track, The Clash’s version of the track is undoubtedly one of the defining tracks of that beloved album. Their consistent ability to reimagine tracks in their own voice speaks to the unique quality of the band within the context of the punk scene.

‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais’

In addition to covering a variety of reggae, ska, dub and rocksteady tracks over the course of their time together, The Clash also penned a few reggae numbers themselves. The best example of this comes with 1978’s ‘(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais’, which is certainly one of Strummer’s strongest moments of songwriting.

Featuring a slow ska rhythm, and name dropping reggae singers like Dillinger, Leroy Smart and Delroy Wilson, Strummer uses the song to express his disillusionment with reggae’s growing move towards pop, as opposed to the roots revolution it was first built upon. In the midst of this criticism, Strummer also draws parallels with the disappointing reality of the punk revolution, taking a sideswipe at Paul Weller and The Jam in the process.