My Daddy Was a Bank Robber

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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. 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. The Clash's "Bankrobber" is one of those rare songs in which nothing should work, but everything somehow does. Lunch and dinner comprised sandwiches and Cokes grabbed from roadside diners in Minnesota and North Dakota; "impersonal chain restaurants," as Dad called them, were out of the question. My father regaled me with topographical and historical facts about each state we passed through. These were the kinds of details he loved—charming details, vacation details. Little Bighorn Battlefield, the Ulm Pishkun buffalo jump, the Continental Divide. We snapped grinning Polaroids of each other standing before billboards and scenic overlooks, and enlisted strangers to photograph the two of us together. In the photos, we appear incongruous, I in my tube top and cutoff jeans and Dad in his dress shirt, loafers, and highway-patrolman sunglasses. 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]

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. I had no plans, except to travel to Iowa for Christmas. It would be my first trip to Mom's house in more than two years. There were good reasons for the pilgrimage: nostalgia for snow, a craving for homemade fudge and peanut brittle. Mostly, though, I missed my mother. I invited Dad along and, against my expectations, he accepted. I hoped to foster a cohesive, happy family, if only for Christmas. I squinted through one eye, piratelike, trying to focus. I couldn't believe my father was still behind the wheel, that we were actually in the station wagon barreling toward Seattle. I croaked, "Oh, yeah."herein is the song's strange power: It's a song about classless society that itself is built like one. Verses & refrains are the peaks & valleys of popular music, with the verses almost always playing second-class citizens to the big & all-important refrains. But in "Bankrobber," it's not quite that simple. In this verse, the first verse is the refrain—or one of the refrains, since it's not even the only "verse" to repeated in full—thus leading to a breakdown, if you will, of the song's inherent class structure. Gilbert, Pat (2005) [2004]. Passion Is a Fashion: The Real Story of The Clash (4thed.). London: Aurum Press. ISBN 1-84513-113-4. OCLC 61177239. Ross from Leicester, United KingdomMikey Dread has died since then - hope he'd seen some royalties by then.

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. Topping, Keith (2004) [2003]. The Complete Clash (2nded.). Richmond: Reynolds & Hearn. ISBN 1-903111-70-6. OCLC 63129186.

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Well, actually, I might not be home. I'm going out of town on business. Could you have a friend meet you?"