THE CLASH
(Pronounced ‘‘Boy Howdy!”)
HOME: European—yes, safe—no.
AGE: Old enough to go to the dentist, young enough not to care.
PROFESSION: Agents provocateurs.
HOBBIES: Smashing tape recorders, interpreting the U.S. for interested English art school students; paramilitary maneuvers; reading Margaret Drabble; creating cigarette smoke-free environments; birth control counseling, throwing the proverbial spanner into the works and living to sing about it.
LAST BOOK READ: Family Planning Perspectives by I. Reed *
Enemy.
LAST ACCOMPLISHMENT: Convincing the American public that they have indeed come for their promotion men, and it will do them a world of good.
QUOTE: “My name is Eraserhead, and I can rub you out!”
PROFILE: Gnawing at rock’s soft underside like a crazed pack of' rhythm buzzards; the Clash first started blitzkrieging the jaded tastes of the undead in the glory days of 1977 and haven’t gotten fat yet; having torn the 70’s apart, the last gang in town proceeds to rebuild the battered fusllage of the 80’s with intelligence, style and nice shirts.
BEER: Boy Howdy!