Bold it was to make London Calling a double album, The Clash pulled it off because they had thematic strength and material to spare. They had neither for Sandinista!, a project which must be praised for its ambition and ridiculed for its short-sightedness. A triple album so soon after a double album? The Clash are asking for trouble there, and they were hardly prepared for what that would mean for their sound, how they worked, and what they would need to write about. London Calling is the perfect picture of the city The Clash were founded, and within that is a biting nuance which lasts today. Sandinista! feels more like a bloated passion project where the band were too fearful to cut the crap, so to speak. Compile that desire to keep everything in place, unchanged, with a feeling The Clash are now seeking a reaction and new style to counter London Calling, and the project becomes a mess of hopes and ambitions. They’re interesting to hear, but terribly clunky.
Take the opening song, The Magnificent Seven, for instance. A hint at where the band could go, what they want to do, and the new tone they’re overseeing. It is, to lend a word from the title of the track, magnificent. A shimmering spectacle that pairs those new wave tones of the past few albums with that crucial newness. Hitsville U.K., though, and the songs to follow, feel a bit hollow. They’re poking fun at a success The Clash would rightly receive and enjoy. Tongue-in-cheek it may be, it falls well short of what The Clash are capable of, instrumentally and lyrically. More than anything, it just seemed like The Clash needed to get Sandinista! out of their system to they wouldn’t be pressed into this genre style or that classification. You can only respect the risk taken in doing that, but musically it falls well short. Moments of interest is what Sandinista! Offers.
Revel in the cluster of sound, though, and you can find some impressive work. Ivan Meets G.I. Joe has all the space-age sounds typical of the times but makes something of it. A little more depth to it with a catchy funk sound and a fun narrative the whole way through. Something About England still cuts through with a relevancy, pointing out that when England is left to the English (as is the want of racists and the ill-informed), the country does not improve. The Clash gives it a kitchen sink drama style, and that makes for a brilliant listen. Their storytelling has improved; their instrumentals struggle to keep up. Instrumentally, Sandinista! is all over the place. That never feels intentional. The Crooked Beat and Somebody Got Murdered sound so tonally different but there’s a real joy in hearing that sudden shift. That’s what Sandinista! banks on.
The Clash hits a fantastic C-side section from Corner Soul to The Sound of Sinners and that much is extended onto the start of the D-side with Police on My Back. It’s an excellent moment which lends itself to the long-purported argument that Sandinista! would be better if shorter. Would it, though? It’s the gaps between these songs which make them more formidable, more identifiable as a great hit. Less time between the great moments, of which there are, of course, a few, make it hard to appreciate those better spots. Running the gauntlet of rock, soul, gospel, and that new wave spirit which holds together their works before and after this, Sandinista! is a fascinating mess. A good mess, it must be said. A fantastic listening experience where the best bits, like Silicone on Sapphire and Charlie Don’t Surf are buried too far into the album for a listener without time to push through the early duds.
