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Spend just a few moments talking with Mick Jones and you come away with one unmistakable impression: the man is fiercely forward-looking. Proud though he is of his legacy with seminal rockers the Clash—and later with Big Audio Dynamite—the 52-year-old icon exudes boyish enthusiasm as he contemplates projects just completed and still to come.
Jones’ latest band, Carbon/Silicon, finds him teamed with his longtime friend Tony James. Fans of a certain age will remember James as the bassist for punk rockers Generation X and as a driving force in the new wave pioneers Sigue Sigue Sputnik. True punk connoisseurs may also recall that James and Jones briefly formed a band together—dubbed, to their mild regret, the London SS—before splintering to make their marks in their respective groups.
The duo’s just-released debut album, The Last Post, comes after five years of making music and giving it away as free downloads. Fleshed out with drummer Dominic Greensmith and bassist Leo “Eezykill” Williams, the album is rife with the sort of churning, melodic guitar-pop that’s long been Jones’ stock in trade. Tracks such as “The News” and “The Whole Truth” bristle with fuzzed-up riffage and martial beats, while ballads such as “Tell It Like It Is” and “Really the Blues” simmer with a dual-guitar fire that hints at more explosive moments to come.
In the following interview, Jones and James talk about their songwriting partnership, their approach to guitar playing, and what it’s like to still be rocking after age 50.
MICK JONES INTERVIEW
What figured into the decision to release an album the old fashioned way?
It was by popular demand, really. Fans can still get the downloads, but I think the downloads can co-exist peacefully with a real record. It doesn’t mean we’re going to stop putting out music on the Internet. People often tell us they love the stuff, but that they’d like a real record as well. That’s why we did it.
How does the songwriting play out between you and Tony?
It goes in all sorts of directions. Sometimes we start with a bit of lyric, or a bit of music, or a drum beat. Or sometimes Tony will pitch something, the way you might pitch a movie or a story. Other times he might bring something and I’ll add to it, the way Joe [Strummer] sometimes used to do with my stuff. It’s all very free, creatively.
How often do the two of you get together?
We like to work as often as we can. Personally I like to work every day, even if it results in rubbish. Freedom to fail is part of any success you have. It’s how you learn. We’re still learning and developing. I feel it’s especially important that we haven’t become complacent and we’re not resting on our laurels. We’re trying to be in the moment.
How do you keep the Clash’s legacy from weighing on you, as you move forward?
That’s what I mean. I try to ignore it and just go about my business. There’s that danger of becoming accustomed to a certain degree of comfort, where you risk losing your mojo. The key is to be alive, and keep asking questions, and keep embracing challenges.
Yes. I sort of gave it up and just watched television for a couple of years. It got to the point that I felt adrift from everything. I knew what I liked but I didn’t know what anyone else liked. Eventually I realized I was being overwhelmingly selfish. That’s when I decided to come back to music.
Have you ever gone through a dry spell, with regard to songwriting?
Pop melody has always been one of your strong suits and it’s in full bloom on the new album. The guitarists who influenced you most―Mick Ronson, Mick Ralphs, and Jeff Beck―were very melodic players. Does that carry over into your songwriting?
I think so. I don’t think about it very much. It just comes to me. I’ve been lucky to be able to do that, maybe just while sitting on the bus or something. The rhythm of the bus might inspire a tune, and then I’ll start sticking some words onto that. Or maybe I’ll just walk the streets, taking things in, and that will inspire something. I feel lucky to be able to express myself creatively. A lot of people can’t say what they think, for fear of getting the sack.
Is your main guitar still the Les Paul Junior?
Tony plays the Les Paul Junior now. We both have one. That was my main guitar when I started with the Clash. I had to have that guitar because Johnny Thunders had one. I still play it but not exclusively.
Do you play other Gibson electrics as well?
Yes. I have a Les Paul Sunburst that I play on the album. I love the fullness of the sound, the roundness. It’s a kicking guitar.
Do great guitar riffs come to you as easily as ever?
Well, there’s only so much you can do. I’ve got my own style, which is an amalgam of all those guitarists who’ve influenced me. I always try to do something different, but of course there are only so many chords. I do try to find things that make the riffs distinctive.
Is writing with Tony different from the way you wrote with Joe?
It is different. With Joe, I would come in with something and then he would flesh it out, and sometimes that would happen in reverse as well. In that respect the way Tony and I work is similar. But it’s less like a marriage, or that type of relationship, than it was with Joe. The songwriting partnership between Tony and me is slightly removed from reality. You still have to deal with reality—with wives and kids and so forth—so we can’t be the fanatics that we used to be, all the time. We have to strike a balance between the two.
Both you and Tony have cited Lenny Kaye’s “Nuggets” collection as a big influence on Carbon/Silicon.
It’s a really big influence—that pre-punk stuff like Patti Smith’s first record, and the Ramones, and really all the stuff coming out of New York at that time. And out of Michigan as well. Those things were punk before punk existed. When you get into a band, you tend to go back and learn what influenced them. It’s like a road that goes both directions—backwards and forwards.
It’s been 30 years since the Clash released their first album. Are you more surprised by how much has changed in music since then, or by how little has changed?
I’m never surprised by anything. I’m always interested in what’s new and modern. I always feel my best work is yet to come. I think it will come tomorrow, or the next day, and even if it doesn’t I just carry on working. I just go where my heart takes me.
TONY JAMES INTERVIEW
How did the Carbon/Silicon project begin?
I’ve always been interested in computers, and the idea of a future where music will be free on the Internet intrigued me. Mick and I have been friends for 30 years, and I mentioned to him that I had written lyrics for a song called “M.P.Free.” He said, “Oh, I could write a tune for that.” And that’s what he did. We recorded it and afterwards we thought, “You know, wouldn’t it be great to just give this track away, to do this thing we’re writing about?” And then we had an idea for the song “Why Do Men Fight?” We recorded that and put it on the Internet as well. At that point we realized we had stumbled onto something that was really exciting for us, which is that through just messing around, we could record music and give it away for free.
At some point did you start to have bigger ambitions for what you were doing?
Not really. The band grew organically from that moment. There was never a plan to form a band, or make albums, or tour. It sprung purely from the joy of making music. That’s at the heart of everything—the joy and excitement of just coming to the studio and creating music. And I believe that comes across on the album, the idea of two guys having a great time.
What prompted your switch from playing bass to playing a Les Paul Junior?
There’s an interesting story associated with that. Thirty years ago I went with Mick when he bought his first Les Paul Junior on Denmark Street in London. Mick had been working in a bookstore to save up the money. It was like in the movies, where the guy takes the guitar down off the wall and hands it to the kid. That guitar ended up being the cherry Les Paul Junior on all the famous Clash records, and all those famous photos. Fast-forward 30 years, and Mick says, “You know, I think you should play guitar instead of bass. Let’s both play guitars in this band.” Then he said he would give me the magic guitar, the Les Paul Junior he had learned on. I had never played guitar before; I had only played bass. The remarkable thing is that he had lent that guitar to a charity, and it had ended up back in a shop on Denmark Street. I had to go back there again, 30 years later, to pick it up. There’s a wonderful symmetry to the story.
How do the two of you work out your guitar parts?
Often we just do it spontaneously. Mick always describes the music as already being there; we just have to find it. Once you’ve got a bit of a tune, and the lyric, the music just comes.
Do both you and Mick come up with guitar riffs?
Some of them are mine. Again, people probably wouldn’t expect that. The riff on “What the F*&%?” is mine, for example. Most people probably think it’s Clash City Rockers Part II or something. I’ve only been playing guitar for about three years, so the simplest ideas are new to me. I can bring the same enthusiasm to those things that an 18-year-old might have, or someone who’s learning guitar for the first time.
What appeals to you about the Les Paul Junior?
In a word, Johnny Thunders. Johnny Thunders lived in my apartment in London for about five months, in the early ’80s. It wasn’t the best of experiences, I have to say, but he did leave a legacy of showing me some guitar parts. I absorbed things from him that I use today.
Lots of songs on The Last Post explore socio-political themes. Obviously you and Mick must share the same philosophies about some pretty important matters.
We just seem to find that. Just look at the philosophy behind the group. We’re two 50-year-old guys who still love rock and roll, and who still have that lust to be in a rock and roll band. We’re not capitalizing on any of the old band names or any of the old songs. We write the songs from scratch and then go out and play. It’s the enthusiasm for the music and the writing that’s driven us up that mountain one more time. We’ve each done it twice, and the third time it’s even harder, with the baggage of children and wives and real lives. The interesting thing is, we’ve taken everything we’ve learned over the past 30 years, and we’ve ended up embracing the sort of garage rock we loved in the beginning.