By the time I finally managed to contact Joe Strummer for a phone interview, The Mescaleros were in Los Angeles. It was the last port of call on the American leg of their tour to promote their second album, "Global A Go-Go." They had already played the first of four gigs at the Troubadour in West Hollywood, and tickets to the last show were already sold out. Within the week (i.e., by the time you read this), they would be arriving in Japan.

News photoThe Mescaleros, not The Clash

Joe has come a long way since he was frontman for The Clash, the British punk band he formed in 1976. His songs added intelligence and style to an otherwise growl 'n' grind genre. The band's guitarist, Paul Simonon, was the one with the spiky, blond hair and skinny jeans who gave the band their look. But it was Joe who drafted their ideology and crafted their sound -- and, in the process, helped the Blank Generation negotiate the reefs and shoals of anarchic nihilism.

For 10 years, The Clash were gods. And Joe was largely responsible for elevating them to that position. His passion for politics and music kept their message pure and their sound fresh. Even their first EP, "The Cost of Living," had included a dash of everything from rockabilly to reggae. I felt like someone had put out a big light when The Clash disbanded and Joe retreated into the shadows for 15 years. During that time he dabbled with acting ("Straight to Hell," "Mystery Train") and music production (for former Clash member Mick Jones' band, Big Audio Dynamite) and occasionally got up for a guest spot at a friend's gig (including touring with The Pogues). But he only recorded one solo album, "Earthquake Weather" in 1989.

Then, suddenly, he resurfaced two years ago and formed The Mescaleros. The Meskys (as they are known) are a group of talented young musicians recruited by Joe and his new musical partner, guitarist Antony Genn (Pulp, Elastica). The first members to be recruited were percussionist Pablo Cooke and the multitalented Martin Slattery, who had both worked with Black Grape. Slattery then brought in bassist Scott Shields.

"The way we came together was very piecemeal -- like putting a jigsaw puzzle together. And I guess that's the way we sounded, too -- at first," Joe explains, when I compare the timidity of the first ablum to the sheer power and force of the second. "It took us all a while to figure out what each of us should be doing, but now that we've done so many shows together, we've finally come together as a band. Global A Go-Go is a team effort."

But the process hasn't stopped yet, it seems. Ant Genn left before "Global A Go-Go" was recorded, and Tymon Dogg, an old busking mate of Joe's, joined.

"If you had taken the Tube on any Saturday or Sunday in, say, 1970 or 1971, you would have seen a mad violinist busking in the London underground -- that was Tymon. And you would have seen me collecting his money -- that's how I started, before the whole punk thing happened," remembers Joe, with a laugh. "It's not like I had a sign hanging around my head saying 'Mad violinist wanted, apply within.' We just happened to run into each other again one day. And now, here he is -- in the band!"

Unfortunately, The Mescaleros thought it would be too risky to kidnap Roger Daltry again -- not for a monthlong tour. It had worked once -- but just overnight, which is how they got him to sing lead vocals on the new album's title track. But, Joe assures me, "The lads can cover his lines." They have also added a couple of extra members for the tour -- drummer Luke Bullen and bassist Steve Stafford, both from the British rock band The Long Pigs.

Gigging is important for The Mescaleros. They don't get much airplay -- even in England, where Joe's status as a former Brit-rock god apparently hasn't cut them any flack. They must work hard, like any new band, for their music to be heard. So they play live -- and relentlessly -- in the scattered outposts of the British underground scene. It is the only way they can reach their audience -- punters who shun record company hype and yea or nay a band purely on their gut feeling. And so far their reaction to the Meskys' new material has been a hearty thumbs-up.

"We're big in a couple of places -- like Birmingham and Manchester," Joe tells me, "but only because we get out there and play as often as we can."

The legacy of Joe's time with The Clash, in fact, worked against the Meskys at first. After having witnessed the band's first Tokyo tour two years ago, I realized that the audience was there to see The Clash -- not The Mescaleros. I was curious as to whether the band had been apprehensive about their reception outside England this time around.

"Well, we kicked off the tour at the 930 Club in Washington, D.C., because we always rock the house in D.C., which makes it a good starting point," says Joe. "And the audience was great! They were singing along and knew all the words. And I could see all kinds of different people -- older guys with little goatees and skinny young kids and big, fat biker-types covered in tats. And girls -- lots of girls. And everyone was dancing . . ."

His voice sounded buoyant and blissful. And I suddenly remembered seeing him backstage after that first gig in Tokyo. He had appeared quiet and withdrawn. But now -- even over the phone -- he projected a newfound confidence.

". . . And, man, the audience in this little town in Maryland called Worcester was wild! There was this gang of about 25 girls in the mosh pit -- some in leather, some in sweats, some in hiking boots and whatever -- and, man, they were flying, I mean, like, coming right at us and landing on the monitors. Then they'd dance with us for a while before diving right back in. I've never seen so many girls really getting into moshing before.

"And last night," he continues, "this girl made her bra into a slingshot, or something like that, and sent it streaking across the room. I heard it whistle past my head before it landed -- thwop! -- on the drum kit. I was so surprised I forgot the words to the song I was singing. In fact, I can't even remember what song I was singing. And the crowd loved it. They were cheering and clapping."

So, forget The Clash and the Casbah (and The Mescaleros' first hesitant tour), and get ready to rock a la "Global A Go-Go."