Give ’Em Enough Rope

Second thoughts on second albums, second books, and the fear of peaking too soon

I’ve found myself listening a lot lately to Give ‘Em Enough Rope—the Clash’s second record. When I interrogate myself about it, when I ask myself what’s going on with that, what comes immediately to mind is: well, it’s a great record—why are you asking such an idiotic question?

But upon further reflection, that’s not the primary reason—after all, there are countless great records out there that I’m not presently obsessing over.

No, I think there’s something deeper at work…

Next to “where’s the playlist?” the question I’ve gotten most at Restrung events is, “So, are you working on another book?” In the spirit of full transparency, the answer is no, largely because I’ve got my hands full hustling for Restrung, which is proving to be a full-time job. But if I’m being honest, part of me is nervous about facing down the fabled sophomore slump.

Back in the day, I had a theory that an artist’s first record was more often than not their best. That first record usually reflects years of work honing the songs, the craft of it all. As critic Nic Harcourt observes, “you have your whole life to write the songs on your first album.” The second record, in contrast, is usually produced on a much shorter timeline as the record company gets antsy for the follow-up (and for the one after that). Artists don’t have years to ruminate over and polish their later efforts.

Exhibit A for me has always been the Police’s Outlandos D’Amour. To my ear, that’s a nearly perfect record. I know Synchronicity probably sold 100X, but the fire of that first record—particularly the first side closer “Peanuts”—to me is unmatched by their later work, much of which, just to be clear, I like.

I could also make an argument for Dire Straits’ eponymous first record (although Communiqué and Making Movies are also brilliant). Same goes for The Velvet Underground & Nico—hands-down VU’s best record (notwithstanding that “Sweet Jane” graces Loaded). And then, of course, there’s Meat Loaf’s Bat Out of Hell. Case closed.

Not that I’d dare compare my writing to the seminal brilliance of Bat Out of Hell, but deep down there’s this nagging question: would my next book be the literary equivalent of Meat Loaf’s Dead Ringer? Just typing that sentence has me reaching for a wool hat to combat the chill.

But a couple of weeks ago, I was listening to Steven Hyden’s excellent podcast episode on the Sex Pistols’ Never Mind the Bollocks, in the course of which he made the point that Give ‘Em Enough Rope has a totally different sound than the Clash’s first record—the guitars are significantly more muscular. And it dawned on me, that’s exactly right. And not just that, but, more to the immediate point, because of those guitars, Give ‘Em Enough Rope is a superior record to The Clash. Its opening track, “Safe European Home,” remains one of my favorite Clash songs and makes the case all by itself. When I was thirteen and first getting into the band, Give ‘Em Enough Rope was the album I relentlessly spun; rarely did I put on The Clash (other than to hear “(White Man) in Hammersmith Palais,” of course).

Which sent me back to my tidy little theory—and blew it up:

· Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ vs. Born to Run?

· The Rolling Stones’ England’s Newest Hit Makers vs. Exile on Main Street?

· Led Zeppelin I vs. Led Zeppelin IV?

· Bob Dylan vs. Highway 61 Revisited?

· Boy vs. The Joshua Tree?

It’s not even close—the later records are all superior, vastly so.

And I could go on. No doubt you could as well. Anyone could. Notwithstanding Outlandos D’Amour (and putting aside from the literary world The Catcher in the Rye, Catch-22 and Bright Lights, Big City), the idea that an artist inherently, inevitably, peaks with their first effort is ridiculous.

So here I am, blasting Give ‘Em Enough Rope yet again—and feeling genuinely excited about whatever comes next.