Music: Punk's best friends

How the Internet and Jack Nicholson inspired longtime chums Mick Jones and Tony James to finally form a band.

August 17, 2012 at 9:04PM
(Margaret Andrews/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Austin, Texas

It's a terrible name for a bar. But a place called Friends proved to be a fitting venue for Carbon/Silicon's main showcase two weeks ago at the South by Southwest Music Conference.

The two highly credentialed British punk vets behind the band -- former Clash guitarist Mick Jones and Generation X co-founder Tony James -- were themselves old friends from back in the day.

The windows behind the stage opened out onto the masses along Austin's 6th Street. With the inside of the club packed, a crowd gathered outside to watch them perform. From the street, the gig seemed very punk-rock. Or at least it looked like the guys were in it for the right reason: to have fun. You could see Jones and James swap appreciative smiles every time they turned around.

At a public interview the next afternoon, Jones and James tried to emphasize the sincerity of their new project. "If I didn't have a penny, I'd still be doing this -- exactly the same thing," Jones declared.

The two music vets arrived in buttoned-up sport coats and nearly shaved heads (hiding their bald spots). "To be here today, we know how lucky we are to be able to still do this at 50-plus," James said in a rare serious moment. "We really appreciate every moment. Because when you're young, it all just goes by so quick, you never stop to look around, as Ferris Bueller once said."

Jones jumped in: "We both had a record on the 'Ferris Bueller' soundtrack, you know."

He wasn't lying. Both of the C/S co-founders were featured in "Ferris" with their questionable '80s-'90s projects: Jones in the hip-hop-copping electro-rock band Big Audio Dynamite, and James in Sigue Sigue Sputnik, the New Wave band known mostly for its giant mohawks and outlandish outfits.

They didn't outright say that Carbon/Silicon -- a decidedly straight-ahead, classic-sounding two-guitar rock quartet -- is an attempt to reclaim their credibility. But Jones and James did admit wrestling with the question because of their ages (Jones is 52; James is 50).

"We talked about this for about 10 years: Could you form a new group as older guys?" James recounted. "Because generally, older people reform the brand name, get back together, do all the old hits and do a big stadium tour.

"We used to have this thing we said: 'What if Jack Nicholson was in a rock 'n' roll band?' We were kind of thinking that could be cool. If you had [Jack's] kind of attitude, maybe you can get away with it."

Jones once again interjected, "People can relate to us because of [our age]. When they hear our record, they go, 'Oh, there's still hope.' "

Jones and James were friends even before they joined their famous bands. They recalled meeting at a gig by English glam band the Heavy Metal Kids in 1975. Before England's great punk explosion of 1977, the pair formed a thankfully short-lived group with a name that makes them cringe now: The London SS, featuring future Clash bassist Paul Simonon. "We were really young and stupid and trying to be like the New York Dolls," Jones said.

Both looked back on their past groups with a tinge of humor. "The more the Clash got famous, the more messed up we became," Jones said. "We couldn't handle it. We tried everything. We tried drug addiction, egomania and some stuff we thought up special on our own -- like building a spliff bunker."

Even after Generation X split up in 1981 and Jones splintered from the Clash in 1983, the two friends said they did not consider working together. "We always thought it would be too difficult," James said.

Jones cracked back, "It has been."

Finally, around 2002, the friends began recording together in a studio in West London.

James: "We started with the one song, and it really just grew organically. ... And pretty soon, we turned around and we'd recorded three albums. And suddenly we thought, maybe we could get a bass player and a drummer and go play some gigs."

Jones: "And after three rhythm sections, we found something that works."

James: "It's still taken us seven years to get to this stage. Whatever level of experience you have, it doesn't make it work. It takes a fantastic amount of confidence and drive to get to this stage."

James literally meant the stage they were on at SXSW, where the band -- with ex-B.A.D. bassist Leo Williams and drummer Dominic Greensmith -- kicked off its first proper U.S. tour, coming to the Varsity Theater on Sunday.

Aside from a few U.S. gigs this winter, Jones had not performed stateside in 12 years. To cement themselves as a live band, they took up residency at a small club in London for two months last year, a club they renamed Carbon Casino.

"It literally is right under the Westway," Jones gleefully recounted, referring to a road immortalized in song by the Clash.

Carbon/Silicon's first properly released album, "The Last Post," is a 14-track collection of mid-tempo, medium-polished rock songs akin to a latter-day Kinks album with electronic rhythms thrown in. Tracks range from the ironically jubilant, danceable opener "The News" to the jangly but angry "War on Culture" to the anthemic rocker "Soylent Green" -- most laced with social commentary and Jones' poppy bounce. It's not as feisty and ferocious as the members' most legendary work, but does anyone really think they'd succeed if they tried?

"The Last Post" is hardly the first batch of songs these guys have produced. Jones and James have issued about three albums' worth of material for free on their website, and they now they have a new EP on the site.

"It just seemed brilliant that we could make music just for us, and could upload it and put it up and out into space, and people might like it and give us feedback," James said.

Jones expressed his approval of the online music revolution ("MyFace is great," he joked), but said he still prefers old-fashioned vinyl.

"It's hard to roll a joint on an MP3," he deadpanned.

Nobody laughed harder than James.

Mick Jones and Tony James, right, performed at South by Southwest with Carbon/Silicon bassist Leo Williams (hidden and drummer Dominic Greensmith (hidden).
Mick Jones and Tony James, right, performed at South by Southwest with Carbon/Silicon bassist Leo Williams (hidden and drummer Dominic Greensmith (hidden). (Margaret Andrews/The Minnesota Star Tribune)
about the writer

about the writer

Chris Riemenschneider

Critic / Reporter

Chris Riemenschneider has been covering the Twin Cities music scene since 2001, long enough for Prince to shout him out during "Play That Funky Music (White Boy)." The St. Paul native authored the book "First Avenue: Minnesota's Mainroom" and previously worked as a music critic at the Austin American-Statesman in Texas.

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