Rock Band The Clash

Air Force band will rock out for troops in the Middle East

May 23 2011 - Capt. John Arata of Eureka and lead singer, Staff Sgt. Angie Johnson, a St. Ann native, who now lives in Nashville, rehearse a take of "Empire State of Mind." Sidewinder -- the 571st Air Force Band, 131st Bomb Wing, Air National Guard -- rehearses for its upcoming tour to entertain U.S. military personnel by visiting air bases and camps in the Middle East.  Laurie Skrivan | lskrivan@post-dispatch.com 

A band called Sidewinder will soon embark on what could be the most grueling two-month road trip in the history of rock 'n' roll.

The band will play as many as 45 shows in 60 days, in cities where the temperatures reach 130 degrees, and where the members of the audience are paid to carry guns. There will no champagne and vodka to help them relax, no roadies to break down the stage, or groupies to break up the monotony.

The Clash named an album "Combat Rock." Sidewinder lives it.

The nine-piece band — known to the government as the 571st Air Force Band, 131st Bomb Wing, Air National Guard (try fitting that on a bass drum head) — will entertain their fellow U.S. military personnel by visiting air bases and camps in the Middle East.

"There's a lot of people over there feeling down about being away from their families," said Tech. Sgt. Kevin Maret of Kansas City, who keeps the rhythm as the band's drummer and keeps the order as its noncommissioned officer in charge.

"If we can bring them a moment of rest and peace, then we have done our jobs," Maret said.

Make no mistake, this is not a pickup band with garage-band skills. They have, in the most unmilitary of terms, serious chops.

Listening to the two lead singers, Staff Sgts. Brian Owens of Ferguson and Angie Johnson, a St. Ann native who now lives in Nashville, rehearse "Empire State of Mind," you could close your eyes and almost believe you were listening to Jay-Z and Alicia Keys. Later, the band worked out the kinks on Cee Lo Green's "Forget You." Again, it sounded incredibly close to the hit recording.

"Most of these people either play in bands or did play" in civilian life, said Master Sgt. Brian House, the public affairs officer for the band and also its trumpet player. House, by the way, recently injured his knee and is disappointed he won't be able to make the trip.

"We're ambassadors for our country, and we aim to raise morale among our troops," House said, explaining why he'd rather play on a bad knee than stay home.

The Stash Dauber: The Clash's "London Calling"

Let me explain: In the fall of 1979, I was living in Austin, working at the Record Town in Dobie Mall, and staying in a studio apartment on the Northside, up by Research Blvd. My phone number had previously belonged to a lumber yard, as a result of which I was always getting phone calls at 7am, which resulted in my sticking my phone in a drawer with a pillow over it. One night I awoke after a night of pub-crawling to find all of my furniture piled up in front of the door to my apartment. Not sure exactly what precipitated that. One day I got a phone call from my old college roommate Bruce, the bass playing fella who'd taught me that there's more to playing music than stealing licks off of records. Our friendship was based on our shared ability to sing every instrumental part off Live At Leeds , discovered the night when I met him for the first time in a friend's dorm room after a kid up the hall had threatened to kill me for not giving him a cigarette. Bruce impressed me with his ability to play Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart music, spoonfed me Trout Mask Replica a track at a time, and spent an entire semester teaching me how to play material by Zappa, Beefheart, Hendrix, Jethro Tull and Blodwyn Pig. With a drummer named Ronnie who wore a cowboy hat and looked like he was about 11 years old, we used to lug our equipment down to the quad, set up, and play until we heard police sirens. After that semester, we'd both dropped out -- no surprise. Now he was calling from Aspen, Colorado, inviting me to come up and make a band with him and his drummer from back home on Long Island. Since we'd last seen each other the summer before, we'd both gotten into punk: the Ramones and Devo for him, the Heartbreakers and the Clash for me. Although we'd grown up within running distance of the city, the Bowery might as well have been the other side of the planet from our backwater burgs. In 1974, when Television was breaking the seal on CBGB, our respective bands were still playing stupid Cream and Allman Brothers songs.

The Clash, Punk Rock Band

The Clash, Return Of The Last Gang In Town

Clash City Showdown

Billboard

All music guide to rock, the definitive guide to rock, pop, and soul