Featured Essay: Getting Combat Rock

by Ken French

On Thursday, May 14th, 1982 I was finishing up my second year of college at Rutgers University in New Brunswick NJ. It had been over two years since a high school classmate had turned me into a diehard fan of The Clash by giving me a cassette of his older brother’s copy of London Calling. Since that time, I had pretty much worn out the grooves of my own copy of that record. Sandinista! came out during my freshman year of college and, while I certainly like a lot of it, its breadth of songs and styles, plus its sheer size, meant that I didn’t play it quite as often. Even my Dad, who had surprising patience when it came to the music I liked, balked at the little kid vocals on “Career Opportunities.”

I hadn’t even seen The Clash live yet at that point. I was supposed to see them at Bond’s in Times Square the previous summer, but I got floored by a serious case of mono just as their run of dates there started and ended up in the hospital. Giving my ticket away practically tore me apart. I did end up seeing them twice on the Combat Rock tour though (post-Topper, which has always been a regret): once at Pier 84 in the rain with Kurtis Blow opening and again a few months later when they opened for The Who at Shea (The Clash were better).

Another thing that happened in my second year at Rutgers was discovering what became my favorite record store for the next few years. There was a little shop down a few stairs from the sidewalk on Easton Avenue called Flamin’ Groovies. It was run by Jim Babjak, the lead guitarist of New Brunswick’s best band, The Smithereens. Since the shop was located between where I lived and the main campus, I passed it and stopped in practically every day. Jim was only about 4-5 years older than me, but he knew a lot more about music. Being a relatively poor kid, he would often let me take things from the dollar racks for a quarter if he thought it would further my musical education. Thanks to him, I developed a lifelong appreciation of bands like The Beau Brummels, The Association, and The Everly Brothers that I probably wouldn’t have listened to without his prodding (plus of course the band that the store was named after).

Anyway, I had heard that there was a new Clash album due on May 14th. Still being a novice about record releases, I never thought to ask Jim to reserve a copy for me. I just showed up at Flamin’ Groovies that morning. I went right to the new releases rack. Didn’t see it. I said over my shoulder to Jim behind the counter, “Did you get the new Clash album in?”

Jim sighed and said, “Yeah but they didn’t send us as many as I wanted, so it’s already sold out. I should be getting more by next week.”

Next week wasn’t good for me; I wanted it now. There were other record stores in New Brunswick at the time; I could have gone to any of them. But you know how it is when you develop a kinship with a particular shop. You want to get an important record there. I wanted to give Jim my business, not Cheap Thrills or Music in a Different Kitchen. Plus, by next week the semester would be over and I’d be back living in Jersey City, commuting into New York for my boring summer job.

I continued browsing but my heart wasn’t in it. I don’t even remember what other records came out that day. And anyway, I only had enough money to get one new record and I wanted it to be The Clash. Disappointed, I leaned on the counter to chat with Jim. I noticed a copy of Combat Rock leaning against the wall. “Is that the store copy?” I asked him. I figured he might play it for me. If I couldn’t buy it on the release day, I could at least hear it.

“Nah. Some guy called as soon as I opened this morning. Asked me to put it aside for him; he’s gonna pick it up on his way home from work.”

“Got it,” I said. I was a novice about some things, but I knew record store etiquette. I went to the dollar racks in the back, kicking myself for not thinking to ask to have one ordered for me.

After five or ten minutes, I heard Jim sigh again. “You know what? Take it; it’s yours,” he said. He reached down, grabbed the copy on the floor, and held it out to me.

My eyes widened. “But what about the guy who called?”

“I don’t even know that guy. You’re in here every day. You deserve it more than he does.”

I felt a little bad for the other guy, but only for a few seconds. He’d be a little annoyed later, but by then I’d be back in my room, listening to The Clash on repeat. Anyway, that was Jim’s problem, not mine. I took the LP from him and glanced at the hype sticker. It showed Paul Simonon. I assumed they had different stickers for each member. I’d have preferred Joe Strummer, but I wasn’t going to complain. It took over 42 years, but I eventually got copies with each of the hype stickers.

I paid him after thanking him profusely. Typically, he brushed it off. He just said it was my reward for being a steady customer.

The store only lasted in that incarnation for another few years. Around the time I graduated in 1984, Jim converted it to a video store (Captain Video) and let the woman who ran Music in a Different Kitchen sell records from his space after she lost her lease. Eventually, he left the business when The Smithereens became more popular. The store later became a smoke shop and eventually was torn down.

He and I have kept in touch over the years, and I reminded him of this story once. He didn’t remember it (it had a bigger impact on me than on him), but wasn’t surprised when I mentioned it. “That sounds like the kind of thing I would have done,” he said.

I was chagrined years later when the movie High Fidelity came out and there is a similar scene where John Cusack and his cohorts decide to sell a particular record to a regular customer instead of a guy who came in off the street because he’s “not a geek.” But Jim wasn’t being a snob, he was being a friend.

Ken French (he/him) is a public librarian in New Jersey. He has two grown sons who are also Clash fans. He lives with his husband and dog in the suburbs, collects records, and travels whenever he can (often to London, where his oldest son lives). He posts mainly about music, movies, and books at: kennethf62.bsky.social