Ross from Leicester, United KingdomMikey Dread has died since then - hope he'd seen some royalties by then. Gilbert, Pat (2005) [2004]. Passion Is a Fashion: The Real Story of The Clash (4thed.). London: Aurum Press. ISBN 1-84513-113-4. OCLC 61177239.

Bankrobber’ is an interesting one,” Jones once told Daniel Rachel, author of The Art of Noise: Conversations with Great Songwriters, discussing the song. “I think my dad was a bank robber’s assistant. There was talk of him driving getaway cars. He was a cab driver, but he drove for other people. Joe wrote the words. The songs are like folk songs. They’ve become like traditional songs. A lot of it was based on truth. We made it so everybody could relate to it. It wasn’t exactly the truth; for instance, in ‘Lost in the Supermarket’, I didn’t have a hedge in the suburb. I lived in a council flat. A lot of the time, it got mythologised.”Gray, Marcus (2005) [1995]. The Clash: Return of the Last Gang in Town (5th reviseded.). London: Helter Skelter. ISBN 1-905139-10-1. OCLC 60668626. About a week ago, I guess. I don't know what else to do. I've really had it, you know? With everything. With Molly, the little liar. Did you know she was arrested for forging prescriptions? I have no idea what she'll do next. I tell you, Jennifer, only believe about eighty percent of what your heart says. Always keep a little in reserve. As you and I both know, there's always some charming and conniving little fake out there looking to break your heart."

Released by the Clash in the August of 1980—the first new music after their artistic pinnacle of the previous December's London Calling—"Bankrobber" was put out as a stand-alone single. It reached #12 on the UK pop charts, which makes it the biggest hit on their native soil outside of the anthemic #11 "London Calling" & their sole #1 hit, "Should I Stay Or Should I Go." A song about the English class system centered around a version of a folk hero—invented in England (Robin Hood), glorified in America (Stagger Lee), & revitalized in Jamaica (Ivan)—in a UK punk band's reggae song with weird synth flourishes, in which the verses & refrains collapse into each other until the two become one, all comprised of the same melody, until the whole thing becomes one big circle, like the record that plays the song. The officer led me to a holding cell where I could talk with Dad. I sat in a chair and waited, wondering what I would say. Wearing an official-issue jumper, he entered the room, staring at the floor and looking ashamed. How dare he feel shame! I took the robberies personally: the way I figured, he'd traded me for money. I didn't care that he'd been faced with the worst financial crises of his life or that all those lonely nights with the bottle had clouded his judgment. My only concern was that he'd abandoned me. Money wasn't worth walking across the street for. It certainly wasn't worth robbing a bank for. He'd thrown everything away: his life, our life.Lunch and dinner comprised sandwiches and Cokes grabbed from roadside diners in Minnesota and North Dakota; "impersonal chain restaurants," as Dad called them, were out of the question. My father regaled me with topographical and historical facts about each state we passed through. These were the kinds of details he loved—charming details, vacation details. Little Bighorn Battlefield, the Ulm Pishkun buffalo jump, the Continental Divide. We snapped grinning Polaroids of each other standing before billboards and scenic overlooks, and enlisted strangers to photograph the two of us together. In the photos, we appear incongruous, I in my tube top and cutoff jeans and Dad in his dress shirt, loafers, and highway-patrolman sunglasses. Needs, Kris (25 January 2005). Joe Strummer and the Legend of the Clash. London: Plexus. ISBN 0-85965-348-X. OCLC 53155325. Roberts, David (2006). British Hit Singles & Albums (19thed.). London: Guinness World Records. p.33. ISBN 1-904994-10-5. OCLC 64098209. My father lit a cigarette and waved out the match in a crazy figure 8. "Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd come over and visit my number-one daughter." herein is the song's strange power: It's a song about classless society that itself is built like one. Verses & refrains are the peaks & valleys of popular music, with the verses almost always playing second-class citizens to the big & all-important refrains. But in "Bankrobber," it's not quite that simple. In this verse, the first verse is the refrain—or one of the refrains, since it's not even the only "verse" to repeated in full—thus leading to a breakdown, if you will, of the song's inherent class structure.

Topping, Keith (2004) [2003]. The Complete Clash (2nded.). Richmond: Reynolds & Hearn. ISBN 1-903111-70-6. OCLC 63129186.

The Clash song that inspired one of Bob Marley’s hits

As such, the melody doesn't change, the rhythm doesn't change, the tempo doesn't change, the feel doesn't change. What makes it seem deceptively flat is the same thing that gives it its strength — every part leans equally on the other, nothing rising to the surface. The Uncut Crap - Over 56 Things You Never Knew About The Clash". NME. London: IPC Magazines. 3. 16 March 1991. ISSN 0028-6362. OCLC 4213418. The Clash's "Bankrobber" is one of those rare songs in which nothing should work, but everything somehow does. Consider then, what I believe to be the creative apex of the song—its center, in which 3 lovely verses float by in an exercise of all that is random yet perfect in the song: Bankrobber’ has now been solidified in history as one of The Clash’s most memorable non-album singles, but at the time, critics weren’t so sure. Some people were alienated by the band’s continued deviation from an original more punk-oriented sound following 1979’s London Calling, but over the decades, this more experimental era for the group has been widely revered.

Despite such ludicrous fingerpointing, The Clash weren’t intending the story to be taken so literally. They were, instead, pursuing a continuation of their formerly mastered themes of dead-end jobs and oppression, but this isn’t to say that the bank robber character never existed in the real world. We'll see. The prospects look good. Got a line on one anyway. Honey, the reason I called is to say that if anything should happen to me, I love you. You're my swan. Remember that." We moved into a moderately priced town house in Kirkland. The town house perfectly suited Dad's needs. It was clean, generic, and a safe distance from the city's core. It represented, if not affluence, at least middle-class stability. It was also anonymous enough to serve as a hideout. At forty-two, my father had been flushed of the urge to draw attention to himself, preferring to get by quietly. He furnished the place in much the same way he'd furnished the town house in Hopkins, with earth tones and prefab shelving and television stands. I had no plans, except to travel to Iowa for Christmas. It would be my first trip to Mom's house in more than two years. There were good reasons for the pilgrimage: nostalgia for snow, a craving for homemade fudge and peanut brittle. Mostly, though, I missed my mother. I invited Dad along and, against my expectations, he accepted. I hoped to foster a cohesive, happy family, if only for Christmas.Gruen, Bob; Salewicz, Chris (2004) [2001]. The Clash (3rded.). London: Omnibus. ISBN 1-903399-34-3. OCLC 69241279.