Nows and Forevers

Really sad to learn of the passing of Rick Buckler, the drummer of one of my favorite bands ever, The Jam. (The Jam and The Band.) The older I get, the harder it is to see artists I looked up to as only being 10 or so years older than me have been passing over the last several years: Ranking Roger of The Beat, Terry Hall of The Specials, Andy Fletcher of Depeche Mode, Mark Hollis of Talk Talk are the ones who come to mind off the bat.

And now one of the three members of The Jam. I honestly thought those three angry young men from Woking were immortal. Paul Weller’s lyrics and attitudes shaped my youth. I dressed like a Mod — dress shirt, thin tie, jacket — from 8th grade onward where, at least at Coronado (California) High School in the early ’80s, The Jam were one of the most popular bands.

“Town Called Malice” is by far the best known Jam song, and unlike some super-popular songs of bands I grew up with (looking at you R.E.M. and Tears For Fears), I haven’t looked askance at it. It’s as brilliant in 2025 as it was when it came out in my first year of high school. Words to live by.

But it’s hardly the only immortal Jam song. Six albums, from 1976 to 1982, with Weller’s lyrics and soaring guitar, Bruce Foxton’s sublime and underrated bass, and Buckler’s driving drum. My grandmother bought me The Jam’s double-LP best-of “Snap” back in ’84 when I moved back to Connecticut and I can’t think of one subpar track.

Weller, yes. But Foxton and Buckler, too: You hear how important they both were to “In the City,” “Going Underground,” “That’s Entertainment,” “The Man in the Corner Shop” and one of the greatest mic drops in popular music, their final single, “Beat Surrender.”

Like a lot of bands, The Jam didn’t end happily. There were no reunions, ever. Weller had other things he wanted to do (The Style Council and hits in every decade from the ’70s til now) and left The Jam abruptly. He also distanced himself from Foxton and especially Buckler — cut them dead is how The Guardian put it — and the ensuing years were up and down for Buckler.

I was 11 when my one and only time to see The Jam occurred, about a year before I hard heard of them and way too young anyway: They were at the close to my hometown, back in the ’70s. But I know a few people who did see them, and I’m as jealous as I would be for people who had seen The Beatles or The Band back in the day. I was too young for them, too.