This is an extract from The Baker's online review of Squat City Rocks. The full article can be read at: http://www.thedailyswarm.com/swarm/dudanksi-strummer/
The 101'ers & friends outside "That Tea Room"...Great Western Rd...
By The Baker (Barry Auguste)
"Do you like roller coasters? Of course you
do. Then you’re in for a delicious treat with Richard Dudanski’s spanking new autobiography,
‘Squat City Rocks.’ As the permanent drummer for the 101’ers, the book follows Richard’s
rip-roaring, roller coaster life from his early squatting days, through the initial
inception of the 101’ers until their untimely demise, and beyond. In it, he fully
explores his musical journey, pounding the drum skins with the likes of 'The
Raincoats,' 'Pil,' 'The Soul Vendors,' 'Basement 5,' and many other cutting-edge
bands of the day. He also details his 28-year camaraderie with Joe Strummer, a
close friend throughout his life throughout his life. His memories of the
ups-and-downs of their friendship makes captivating analysis as Richard observed
sides of Joe that only he was witness to. He probably knew him better and more
intimately than the majority of his friends, and viewed the evolution from a self-conscious,
untested 'Woody Mellor,' into the forceful and dynamic 'Joe Strummer' that I
knew later with The Clash.
But Richard’s life was not so benignly unproblematic
- far from it! Instead, it was filled with dramatic adventures that fueled his
playing and shaped his politics. Richard charted his own course through life,
and rarely deviated from his path to follow fashion or trends. His altruistic
nature made for a very colorful, dramatic past, alternating between some remarkable
musical highlights down to the very depths of despair! As Richard admits early
on, he was “always looking for something
else.” It was the earliest theme of his life.
The book itself reads like ‘A Clockwork
Orange' meets 'Steptoe and Son,' replete with stories of ‘biker-boy’ revelry, police
raids, electrical fires, stolen equipment and hair-raising escapades. It also
serves as a fascinating examination of survival as a squatter back in England's
generally perceived ‘dismal and dirty' 70’s with it's dire housing shortages,
trade union agitation and general economic strife (although as Richard pointed
out to me, things are far worse today in many ways, making his memories that
much more significant.) Richard explains in detail the squatting community that
existed in the ruins of West London , as almost
gang-like, they went from squat to squat - breaking in, occupying, and making
themselves at home. The poverty they chose makes compelling reading as they survived
without hot water or electricity, drank tea from jam jars, and were forced to search
for fruit and vegetables lying in the street after the local market closed. It
is a testament of their will to triumph through adversity as well as a sobering
glimpse of life for a sizeable section of the population back in the 70's. Despite
the bleakness of the landscape, Richard manages to find something like grace in
violence and hardship, and succeeds brilliantly, thanks in no small part to his
self-assured, incandescent prose.
Of greatest interest are Richard’s vibrant memories
of the trials and tribulations of getting the 101’ers up and running. His crude
reminiscences of ‘stuffing mattresses in windows for sound-proofing, using 'broomsticks
for mike stands' and 'trundling the drum kit and amps in an old pram,' provide vivid
examples of the band’s hubristic attempts to succeed. His insights into Woody's
gradual development from rhythm guitarist into Joe Strummer - 'band leader,' are
priceless, and he describes with unbridled enthusiasm the topsy-turvy earliest
days of the ‘101 All Stars’ at the impromptu 'Squat-Bops,' and the spit-and-sawdust
pubs and clubs, complete with 'burst blisters and bloodied knuckles.' Anger
never sounded so righteous nor so proudly optimistic as when Joe spat out the
words to his earliest songs. As Richard remarks, “It was extremely high-octane rock’n’roll
that hurtled along at a speed and intensity that would leave most ‘Teds’ aghast
at our sacrilegious versions,” then contrasts those passionate 'helter-skelter
R'n'B nights' with their daytime nightmare of dangling, rain-soaked electricity
cables, dodging holes in floorboards, and the frequent break-ins and fights
with intruders. Notwithstanding the hardships and pressures, Richard paints a
picture of an indissoluble troupe of derelict outlaws.".......................................
