Earlier this year, my teenage son Logan came dashing down the stairs and exclaimed to me, “I’ve just heard this song I really like Dad, give it a listen…” Only “Neat Neat Neat”, by seminal 70’s punks The Damned, a song that I’d known and loved since I was younger than he is now! A brief chat about The Damned ensued and, of course, us being us, within minutes we were checking whether they were out “on tour” any time soon! Investigations happily revealed this tour, celebrating the output of their late 70’s/ early 80’s line-up, a time when they dropped dark and dramatic proto-Goth, expansive hooky pop and 60’s psychedelia elements into their ragged primitive punk melting pot, most notably on their 3rd album, 1979’s widescreen “Machine Gun Etiquette”, for me their best work. Unfortunately, their Bristol show clashed with last night’s Skids’ Trinity gig, but Logan was happy for a Friday night scoot down to the South Coast!
Set off at 5 and grabbed tea on the way,
parking up just before half past 7 on our usual street spot and waiting a
couple of minutes to get a cheaper fare! So, we hit the venue midway through
openers Doctor And The Medics. The Doctor himself, a vaudevillian glam rock
wizard with a Wynne Evans operatic voice, sporting a huge checked great coat
and equally voluminous silver mane, pontificated on his band’s reputation as a
covers band and led a commendable debate on mental health between his glammy
originals, but their set was only ever about their 80’s psych-pop No. 1 hit
“Spirit In The Sky”, a lengthy singalong version closing matters. 70’s NYC
CBGB’s survivors The Fleshtones were up next; a band largely unfamiliar to me,
I initially found their blend of old school primitive garage punk and swampy
psych/ blues a little dull and dated, despite the vocalist’s rabble-rousing
tactics and their “wheel of talent” (essentially the 4 band members making 360
degree turns!). However, a homage to their CBGBs roots and a big dumb Ramones
pastiche got me onside (maybe as I was wearing my CBGBs “Breakfast Club” tee!),
and their final 2 numbers, the mutant psychobilly of “Alright” and the Them
“Gloria”-esque chunter of “Save Me” saw them finish strongly.
We kept our house left spots a few rows back (unfortunately next to a couple of rude and pissed-up ageing goth women who then insisted on barging in front of us to take copious selfies with the onstage band), and Logan declared his intent to join in with whatever moshpit shenanigans may ensue. As the Damned took the stage, it seemed he’d get his wish, vocalist Dave Vanian declaring, “Ladies and Gentlemen, How’do!” then leading the band into the high-octane, frenetic punk of opener “Love Song” and equally frantic first-pumping “Machine Gun Etiquette”. I really expected the place to catch fire, but somehow, it just didn’t…
This was a curious one tonight; the place
was barely half full, possibly legacy of a pre-Chrimbo Friday night, but the
crowd was largely static, the sound muted, the atmosphere a little flat, and
the set selection variable (I personally lamented the omission of “MGE”’s best
numbers “Melody Lee” and “Anti Pope”, f’rinstance). This was despite the band’s
best efforts; drummer Rat Scabies attacked his kit with strong-armed energy,
guitarist Captain Sensible was his usual cartoon tomfoolery self, and then
there was Vanian… black-clad, suave and ageless (at 68 (!), looking half his
age), prowling the stage like a panther, delivering his resonant vocals into
his 50’s “Pathe News” radio announcer mic, he was the focal point throughout.
“There’s a planet floating in space; it’s small and inconsequential…” he
announced before a widescreen “History Of The World”, then “Plan 9 Channel 7”
was a sophisticated change-of-pace slice of psychedelic pop.
The Captain quipped about the band getting chucked out of hotels back in their pomp (“4 in one day in Paris, right Mr. Scabies?”) before the fine descending hook of “Just Can’t Be Happy Today”, but for me the performance really only took flight for set closer “Neat Neat Neat”, Logan finally finding a mosh to join for this thrashy, breathless punk classic. The sprawling “Curtain Call” kicked off the first encore, leading into a drum solo by Rat, but just as I was about to hit the “prog self-indulgence” button, the drummer segued into the unmistakeable opening drumbeat of “New Rose”, another punk classic. A second encore saw the band clown about with their roadie dressed as Santa Claus, before the excellent “Smash It Up” easily their best number tonight (“This should be the new English National Anthem!” announced The Captain) saw them end on a high. A fortuitous list later, we hit the road, a diversion off the A34 North then seeing us briefly crawling through pea-souper fog and acrid-smelling, muddy single track country lanes before getting back onto a proper road, home about half past midnight. A bit of a Curates Egg, then, this one, but the strong finish (particularly “Smash It Up”) and Vanian’s undeniable star quality made it a worthwhile trip in the end!
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