I'm not sure if you're going to be able to find a good English song for me. ~I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a good English song for you, but I'm sure I'll be able to find a good English song for

I'm not sure if you're going to be able to find a good English song for me. ~I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a good English song for you, but I'm sure I'll be able to find a good English song for you. Highly recommended! The song 'THE CLASH', the famous PUNK (PUNK, is a kind of anti-rock music force that emerged in the 1970s. PUNK in mainland China is translated as "punk"; in Taiwan is translated as "punk", Hong Kong is called "crash". In the West, punk is used in the dictionary as a slang term for punk, punk, whore, child molester, or lowlife (although its meaning has changed somewhat). It's been 25 years since Leg McNeil founded PUNK magazine in 1975 and the Sex Pistols started the trend. To understand the impact of PUNK on the world and on interior spaces, it is important to understand the significance and development of PUNK.

The essence of punk is destruction, and the spirit of punk is to destroy and rebuild.) The Clash

The highway leading to Buddy Holly's resting place lies in a somber corner of Lubbock, Texas, USA: a place of abandoned railroad tracks, cargo depots, and outdated-looking military powder magazines.

Holly's austere grave is located here in the city cemetery, where pollen drifted from the cotton fields not far away densely lines the plain marble monument. Except for a group of overzealous worshippers who were welcomed here in 1979, the cemetery has remained unchanged to this day.

That time it was four slim young men, dressed in black jeans, black leather boots and leather jackets. They had set up a tomb-like tent next to the grave. What began as a dignified affair, as if they feared Holly's spirit would not welcome them, turned into a rave. In their own inimitable way, they honored the Lubbock prince of rock and roll, and the four young men were known as The Clash.

When the clamor died down, each of the four men took a piece of plucked string from their pockets and placed it on Holly's tombstone. They then returned to the home of Joe Ely, the Texas country singer who had invited them that night.The Clash had been invited to visit Texas that time just to see Ely's instruments and take a walk on Holly's grave. At Ely's home, they continued to party while one of their talented drummers, Topper Headon, became delirious from an overdose.

The legendary The Clash, along with the Sex Pistols, ushered in the height of punk rock in 1976. Their infectious stage show and enthusiasm for their fans has become a classic. While other bands were still indulging in fantasies about cars and women, they had their sights set on society's hot buttons: unemployment, urban hustle and bustle, racism, terrorism, gangland fires, imperialism, drug addiction and police corruption.

The Clash were the first British band in history to include Rap in their songs, and the first white band to be inducted into the Jamaican Music Hall of Fame. When they performed in New York's Times Square in 1981, they sparked citywide chaos. Their third album, London Calling, was named the best American album of the '80s; and their fourth album, a triple LP, caused The Clash to go into bankruptcy when the band insisted on selling it for the price of a single record.

There's a saying that says, "You don't know rock 'n' roll until you've seen The Clash." Indeed, The Clash gave it their all on stage, and as soon as they stepped off the stage, they collapsed on the dressing room floor, unable to utter even a single word. Mick Jones was born in 1955 and comes from a British working-class family. His parents divorced at an early age, and Jones became obsessed with rock and roll from an early age, perhaps, he explains, to escape the shadows of his life. He was fascinated by bands such as Mott The Hoople, The Stones and The Faces, but his true idols were an American avant-garde rock band, The New York Dolls, and Mick credits the Dolls' no-holds-barred approach to music with infecting him.

By 1974, he was playing guitar in a band called The Delinquent. Tony James, who went on to become a member of Generation X, recalled The Delinquent as "a band with shoulder-length hair and strange clothes. They were all dressed up with long hair and strange clothes, and they were hanging out at all the venues in London. Mick and I quickly befriended each other and we discovered a ****ing similarity in that we both admired The New York Dolls, and I suspected that he was my only confidant in the UK." Later joining The Clash was Bernie Rhodes, who met Mick in a bar and Mick recalls, "I enjoy meeting people who look interesting. Bernie was wearing a hat, so I went up to him and said, "Are you a pianist?" and he said, "No, but you're wearing a hat. He said, no, but you're wearing a T-shirt I have one of those. That's how we met." Tony James was then in the London SS band with Mick and when they asked Bernie if he was interested in joining, Bernie readily agreed and wanted to be the band's manager. He had an interesting business mindset, as he said himself, "You need me because you've got nothing, you've got no creativity of your own, and if you're trying to be second to The New York Dolls, it's a waste of my time, we've got to go our own way."

By the spring of 1978, The London SS had disbanded, and Mick, Paul Simonon and guitarist Keith Levene had formed a new band, with Paul, a gifted painter who, like Mick, had graduated from London's art school. But his desire to be a serious artist faded after graduation, Paul recalls: "I was confused and just thought that I shouldn't sit in a studio for the rest of my life, I wanted a more exciting life."

Paul, who also grew up with divorced parents and a lack of love, says: "When I was a kid, I didn't have anyone to tell me where to go, whether it was to play on the railroad tracks, or to commit petty theft." Later, he was in some of London's worst schools, and joined the skinheads, but was also introduced to pioneering music of all kinds. When Paul first enlisted, Mick spent an hour teaching him the E-flat chords on his guitar, but it still didn't work. So Mick decided to let him try the bass. Paul's technique wasn't practiced until the band was signed by CBS, and Mick recalls, "Paul's later bass technique was screaming, but it did suck at first."

The soon-to-be-born The Clash were now short of a vocalist, and Bernie thought Joe of The 101 ers was the right man for the job. After a preview of his show, Joe was officially on board, and Joe's roots-rock guitar skills were just what the band was looking for. His wise, optimistic political vision would later become the band's hallmark, and the Clash had a song called "I'm So Bored With You", which Joe suggested changing the title to "I'm So Bored With The USA". Joe suggested changing the title to "I'm So Bored With The USA", and the song took on a very different meaning. The song reflects the invasion of Britain by American culture. On the one hand, Joe's talent was well recognized, but on the other hand, he gradually went to extremes in his search for innovation and change.

The Clash were first interviewed by journalist Caroline Coon back in 1976, and it struck a chord with her. The band pointed out that the hippie movement had failed. They were anti-drug and anti-pop, and the band's demeanor reflected the clash of ideas between the two generations, Coon recalls: "I took a picture of them pressed up against a wall with their arms in the air, and on the back of Joe's shirt it said, 'Hate and War,' which was the spirit of punk, which was don't have peace, don't have love. The Clash were politically assertive, angry and aspired to anarchy, not unlike traditional rock. While bands that became famous at the time were escapist, The Clash were brave enough to face life head on."

Mick said, "I think singers like Rod Stewart turned their backs on the ideals of rock and roll. They detached themselves from the fans, and for the fans who appreciated them, the defection of a singer means deception."

In 1977, The Clash signed to CBS Records for 100,000 pounds. Now, 22 years later, they're releasing records that have become punk classics, with fast tempos, urban delivery, frustration and anger that are invariably emulated. The band's classic songs are also memorable: "Janie Jones," "I'm So Bored With The USA," "Garageland," "The Construction Site," and "The Punks. "Janie Jones", "I'm So Bored With The USA", "Garageland", "Career Opportunities", "London's Burning", and many more, all of which have gotten fans' blood pumping. The songs have been a hit with fans. Topper Headon joined The Clash on drums after their sold-out debut album, and his arrival changed the band's musical style, allowing him to move freely between madcap, soul and reggae. "With him, we not only had drums, but we had a vibrant life." So says Paul, whose first song after Topper joined the band was titled "Complete Control," a title derived from Bernie's catchphrase: "I'm going to get complete control."

Rhodes brought in Sandy Pearlman for The Clash's sophomore album, and he didn't work well with the band. As a producer, Sand wanted to cater to American tastes, and The Clash were not impressed. One journalist noted, "The Clash mocked everyone and offended the wrong people, like Sandy Pearlman, and they even made fun of the president of CBS to his face. They really don't know what's good for them sometimes." Johnny Green, the band's former manager, commented, "The band had a completely different musical philosophy than Pearlman's. Pearlman's ideas were worthless to Paul, and it was a very tumultuous time for The Clash."

But the album was eventually completed, and it's much deeper than the self-titled debut. The track "Guns On The Roof" reflects on one of the band's experiences: that spring, Paul, Topper and a few others were waiting for Mike to come to the rehearsal space to work on a song, when someone got the idea to bring a gun and go up to the roof to shoot pigeons. They didn't realize that they were shooting at privately owned, expensive racing pigeons. The police popped up and said they had been called to a group of hooligans on the roof aiming guns at the train. This was a time of rampant Irish **** and military terrorism, so this was a non-trivial move, and Paul and Topper were then imprisoned, which Bernie seemed to think was good for them. There was widespread resentment and relations between the members and Bernie deteriorated, with Mike and Bernie often at loggerheads. The band was faced with the prospect of disbanding or changing managers when Bernie gave an interview to the press in which he said, "The Clash are good at expressing what teenagers think, but they don't. I've worked hard to make it work, and I'm not sure I'm going to get it right. I've worked my ass off and I didn't expect this, Joe's too weak, Mick's an egomaniac, Paul's too childish and Topper's a redneck. Now they're trying to stomp me, and it's the record company that's behind it, they've been bribed."

After their first U.S. tour, the band began looking for material for their next album. After Bernie's departure, the group worked in unison again, with Mick's country twang, Paul's reggae and Topper's disco blending perfectly. The band's next album was produced by the man who made The Who, Gny Stevens, who was extremely committed and demanding. But late in the recording process, he often missed time due to his addiction to alcohol, and the collaboration didn't end well. But Guy did take London Calling to new heights. The band's second U.S. tour followed, sweeping the country in 42 days.

Paul Joe and Mick's relationship has deteriorated dramatically since the 'Combat Rock' album. The Clash has become increasingly volatile, with the band changing from a four-piece to a five-piece, with guitarists coming and going, and with Bernie being brought back as manager. On tour, Paul said, "I don't talk to Mick, we're no fun to work with. I talked to Joe about it, we're adults, we don't have to put up with Mick's dictatorship and temperamental behavior anymore. At rehearsal, Joe said bluntly, 'We want you off the team.' Mick couldn't believe it. And I was with Joe. At the time, Mick must have been very upset." In fact, Mick's departure was a double-edged sword. With him gone, The Clash ceased to be a full band.

Joe and Paul kept The Clash going for another two years. New guitarists Vince White and Nick Sheppard were recruited, and after their sixth album, the Bernie-produced "Cut The Crap," The Clash broke up in 1985, as Joe and Bernie's musical differences became irreparable.

Into the '90s, nostalgia for The Clash continued unabated. Rumors abounded that they would get back together in 1996, but Paul, Joe and Mick all denied the possibility. After all, everyone's got their own place now: Paul's a full-time painter; Mick still sings and produces; Joe's formed a new group, The Mescaleros; and the only consolation is that The Clash recently released another live album, From Here To Eternity, in their honor. Some critics say there are two kinds of bands: the romantics and the classicists, and The Clash belong to the romantics; they dress differently, they talk differently, and everything they do is chaotic and unplanned.