The Damned Lyceum Theatre London 8th April 1979 (TFTLTYTD #12)

 

I love the back pages of the various former UK music papers. Adverts appear, faded and yellowing, reminders of the fact that if you had very deep pockets you could easily go to a did every night of the week and still have the feeling that you were missing out!

I wouldn't have minded being in the locality of The Strand on 8th April 1979. What an arresting line up! The Specials supporting The Damned. I am guessing that following their support slot as 'The Coventry Automatics' on the Clash's 'Out On Parole' tour the previous summer, the band's punk credentials were good.

Whilst the line up is great, It is clear from Pete Silverton's review that the PA was on its last legs and the sound suffered appaulingly. Maybe then it comes as no surprise that this recording of the gig is quite some way off pristine! Thanks to the original uploader. The sound may be pretty duff, but just look at that set. Silverton was spot on in his description of a band on the verge of emerging from the post-punk doldrums and about to gain then the respect that had eluded them during the Brian James era when they were almost universally viewed as punk clowns or MC5 wannabees.

MP3 (as received): https://we.tl/t-k2CWVesMgx

Artwork: https://we.tl/t-Lk1Er04v6D

Sounds 21st April 1979

The Damned
Lyceum

With enough police grouped menacingly outside in coaches, in squad cars and standing around to supervise a couple of Manchester United fixtures, I suppose some kind of security check was inevitable.

Hell, I’m as tolerant of the quick ruffle through my bags as the next man who’s forever convinced that everyone else on the plane is carrying at least a couple of shotguns and a pocketful of grenades, but when that bloke doesn’t even find the kitchen knife with a six-inch blade lying unconcealed in my bag, I get rather annoyed that I’ve just spent half an hour queuing up to be checked by a self-evidently inefficient bozo. Which means I finally get into the hall just in time to sample a little more of the Special AKA’s sparkling combination of ska and the gutsy, down home rant of teenage frustration.

The Specials

Lyceum London

8th April 1979

On behalf of the Lyceum staff, I expend my sincerest apologies.

Hardly brimming with joie de vivre, I was honestly surprised by the calm atmosphere in the hall itself – after The Fall etc. my more nervy side had visions of hordes of can-brandishing Vissigoths/U.K. Subs fans.

In fact, the crowd greeted announcer cum singer guitarist cum all round four-eyed nerk, Auntie Pus, with exceptional warmth. I only counted two direct hits on his head with cans while he informed those not lobbing cans:

“You don’t wanna hear the Subs for at least two minutes. You wanna hear me.” The most memorable section of his brief set was a reference to ‘Down a pathway to Venezula’. With his grasp of world geography, this man could easily be next week’s Elvis Costello if only he learned to embed such powerful phrases in a real song – even one decent note probably would have done.

Ah, the UK Subs. It really does warm the heart to know that somewhere out there is a group of young kids who hold a very special affectionate place in their music for Steppenwolf. So affectionate in fact that the Subs pay homage to John Kay’s top-heavy macho thumps and postures with every bass-led riff, every bare chest (the guitarist), every leather jacket (the singer) and every down to kill guitar pose.

It’s been claimed that the Subs are the archetypal punk band. That’s rather like saying that Faron’s Flamingoes were the archetypal Merseybeat band. Quite possibly true.

With the audience curiously muted in the way it sometimes is at punk gigs (the event as the focus rather than the band?), the Damned gained the first really enthusiastic reaction of the evening when they were preceded by a tape of ‘God Save The Queen’.

With the dry ice and the impressive light show it looked like the Damned were at last on the verge of achieving the breakthrough back into the Big League that they’ve so long been pursuing. And – even hampered as they were by a sound-system that could have been replaced by a very loud Boots stereo without any noticeable aural difference – for the the first ten minutes or so they played with the style and panache that could hoist them back into the league.

But alas, the PA gave up its pathetic attempt at life and dropped into a well of silence. The band played on for a couple of numbers. But drums and guitars alone do not a rock and roll band make. Vanian looked very convincing in his big ears and bald head Nosferatu mask but when you couldn’t hear a word from his lips, the whole thing became merely laughable. The Damned went off. A couple more numbers. The Captain’s amplifier packed uk. Eventually that was fixed and they stumbled to the end of the set. Hardly the stuff of which dreams are made.

And yet – ignoring the immature and silly misogyny of changing the Sweet’s ‘Ballroom Blitz’ to ‘Great Big Tits’ – it was far from being a total failure.

One – for the first time in my memory, the Damned all agreed on what songs they were going to play and in which order; no more did one of them stay on stage thumping out the riff to ‘Feel Alright’ till the rest were tucked up in bed. Two – they played with as much balance, power and deftness as any band could manage under those unfortunate circumstances. Three – they proved that they don’t have to live on the memories of ‘Neat Neat Neat’ alone, they have fine new songs like the surprisingly melodic ‘Love Song’. Four – most importantly, they didn’t let the events tumble into any kind of childish display, no petulance, no temper tantrums – the old Rat Scabies would have at least started abusing the audience in frustration.

PETE SILVERTON

I am covering two bases here, including the ongoing TFTLTYTD thread and this one remembers Algy Ward, the anarchic bass player who served in the ranks of The Damned from 1978 to 1980.