The Damned - The Black Album

Well, I don’t know about yours, but my original vinyl is scratched to absolute buggery. Regularly ripped from its sleeve as soundtrack to countless post-pub carouses, its fourth side (recorded before fan club members at Shepperton) crackles and spits with the intensity of a full English breakfast, particularly as it lurches from Love Song to Second Time Around. Unsurprisingly, the album cover still bears witness to various sticky reminders of McEwans or Tennents Lager and Merrydown cider spillage.

If your copy remains factory fresh then you’ve clearly not been listening to it properly, and if you’ve not got one? Well, you’re more to be pitied than scolded. For while The Black Album carries neither the historical import of their thrice-eponymous debut, nor the career-defining hits of Machine Gun Etiquette (in their studio incarnation), it still stands as The Damned’s psychedelic goth-punk magnum opus. Sounding for all the world like the best album the late-60s Who never made (with ex-Hot Rods bassist Paul Gray channelling his inner Entwistle), Wait For The Blackout, 13th Floor Vendetta and the side-long Curtain Call are well worth the hefty price of admission alone. Anyway, you’ve read enough already just go and buy the bastard.

The Damned - Strawberries

Although Vanian and Sensible tell slightly different stories about its origin, Strawberries owes its name to the idea that fans and/or critics (depending on the storyteller) had no appreciation for the group’s more sophisticated sound, leading to the observation that their new music was like giving strawberries to a pig. I’ll admit, I would have been quite happy if the band had just kept making their first album over and over, but then I would have missed out on “Dozen Girls,” “Life Goes On,” “Bad Time For Bonzo” and an album that’s easy to adore for very different reasons than Machine Gun Etiquette. The thick keyboard sounds of the 80s and an invasion of less talented goths may taint the album slightly by association; still, there’s no doubting that The Damned are a damned sight better than most bands. Strawberries is a remarkably fruitful enterprise from a band that, just a few years earlier, seemed intent on playing only three chords at one speed (fast).

The Damned - Machine Gun Etiquette

After dissolving in the wake of the poorly received second album (1977's Music for Pleasure), pioneering punk band the Damned reformed in 1979 without original guitarist/songwriter Brian James, who pursued his own interests from then on (only hooking up with the band again for a late-'80s "farewell" show), and proceeded to deliver one of the greatest (and unlikeliest) comeback albums in rock history. The remaining trio brought in young Saints bassist Algy Ward, recorded an album, and hoped for the best. That best proved much better than expected; while the singles ended up in the charts, Machine Gun Etiquette itself was deservedly hailed as another classic from the band. Over time, its reputation has grown to equal the original Damned Damned Damned; while no less strong than their debut, the Damned here bring in a wide variety of touches and influences to create a record that most of their contemporaries could never have approached. The group's wicked way around witty punk hadn't ebbed a bit; the opening track, "Love Song," is a hilarious trashing of romantic clichés that barely lasts two minutes, while "Noise, Noise, Noise" and "Liar" work in the same general vein. These, however, only scratch the surface. "Melody Lee," written by the Captain for a favourite comic character, starts with a lovely piano intro, whereas the celebratory angst of "I Just Can't Be Happy Today" chugs along with garagey keyboards á la the Electric Prunes. Other prime standouts include "Plan 9 Channel 7," an epic about James Dean and Vampira with a fantastic Vanian vocal; the merry mayhem of "These Hands" (belonging to a killer circus clown, with appropriate carnival music, of course); and a great rip through the MC5's "Looking at You." The best moment was saved for last, though: "Smash It Up," a two-part number divided between an affecting instrumental tribute to long-time supporter the Captain’s hero Marc Bolan and a perfect trash-the-rules-and-party scorcher.

The Damned - Skip Off School To See The Damned

Since the Damned did most of their best work at Stiff Records, the appearance of a comprehensive collection like Skip Off School to See the Damned (The Stiff Singles A's & B's) was long overdue. It only contains 11 songs, several of which are on the seminal Damned, Damned, Damned, but almost all of them are dynamite, capturing the band are their rawest and catchiest. It's an ideal choice for casual fans that want to dig a little deeper than the debut but don't want to sort through their uneven follow-ups. So if you're after a compilation of The Damned at their Punk peak you really can't go wrong with this one. And with a very Punk running time of just over 25 minutes, it does exactly what it says on the label without outstaying its welcome.

The Damned - Grave Disorder

Few bands in the punk scene (or in any scene for that matter) have lasted quite as long or stayed quite as potent as The Damned. From the speedy, catchy punk of "Damned Damned Damned" to the amazing masterpiece "Machine Gun Ettequette" and on to more gothic albums like "The Black Album", The Damned has always stayed fresh, original and always a blast to listen to and see live. So, after a prolonged hiatus from actually recording (1985 till 2001), The Damned released "Grave Disorder" in 2001, needless to say, the band has still got it. It's just as energetic and fresh as they were 47 years ago (yes pop pickers, nearly half a century ago) when they helped form the UK punk scene along with the Sex Pistols and The Clash, among others. Unlike most "new" albums from older bands who had been on a long hiatus, this album really feels as passionate (if not more so) than their earlier efforts, a real album and one of their best in fact. My initial impression is that this album has two very distinct sounds and personalities. Songs such as “Democracy”, “Song.com” and “Lookin’ for Action” contain a punk/pop sensibility with wry political overtones. “Democracy” itself has a gleeful “happy punk” sound, similar to “Noise Noise Noise” from Machine Gun Etiquette whilst the lyrics deliver a biting invective against politics of any sort; the bottom line being that nothing ever changes on that level.

The Damned – Phantasmagoria

By the time the Damned found themselves on a major label after nine years of ups, downs, and all-arounds, a big change had taken place: Captain Sensible, with both his own solo successes and other pressures coming to bear, decided to depart. Keyboardist Roman Jugg took over the guitar, while Bryn Merrick remained on bass and Vanian and Scabies continued doing their thing. The first fruit of this new Damned, Phantasmagoria, doesn't match up to the excellent variety and performance level on Strawberries, but still has a lot to show while at the same time exploring new territory for the group. The cover and artwork seem to ally the Damned even more closely with Goth rock than before, but Vanian thankfully has never seen fit to simply ape those clichés, steering his own powerful path. Similarly, the music can be moody but never without its own distinct energy and fire -- more a Cramps sense (if not sound) of loving the dark more than anything, but with a clean, modern sheen and just enough Hammer horror. "Street of Dreams" makes for a powerful, anthemic opener, with some fine Scabies drumming. "Is It a Dream," the one song with a Sensible co-writing credit, is yet another fantastic Vanian vocal showcase. The really killer tracks include "Shadow of Love," a semi-Morricone-style mood-out quick shuffle with haunting guitar from Jugg, and "Grimly Fiendish," a funny bit of spooky psychedelia not all that far off from where the Dukes of Stratosphear would end up a couple of years later. Phantasmagoria concludes with the surging instrumental "Trojans," a strong number that showed the Damned had lots of life in them yet.

The Damned – Peel Sessions (1976/1977)

Foreword

This may be neither the time nor the place to admit that I never got to see the Sex Pistols play. I did drive to Derby one night to catch them on tour but upon arriving at the venue found only a hand-written note stuck to the door announcing that the gig was off. In a strange way, I wasn’t disappointed – a cancelled gig seemed decidedly more Punk than one that went ahead. I never saw The Clash either, although I almost saw them at one of those 100 Club gigs on London’s Oxford Street but had to leave to do my radio programme before they came on. I did just catch Birmingham’s Nightingales though and thought their song, “VD”, which consisted of little but a second or two of wild-eyed strumming and the shouted words “I’ve got VD” – as fine as anything I heard in all of that astonishing Punk year. It remains one of the few songs I can sing in its entirety.

On the plus side, I did see and hear the subjects of this present volume. The first time I caught The Damned in impressively violent action was at an almost formal concert they played at a theatre in Victoria. That’s Victoria, London. My memories of the event are hazy now (my memories of this morning aren’t too good so bear with me) but I seem to remember the other bands on the bill were Eddie & The Hot Rods and Graham Parker & The Rumour (both these ensembles, but especially the Hot Rods – played their part in unlocking the door that the Punks were about to kick down and they don’t get enough credit for it). I had imagined that The Damned would see me, the compère and a man blatantly working for the BBC, as a tool of an oppressive regime and would, more than likely, give me a bit of a well-deserved kicking before running, snarling like wild dogs, to inflict further mayhem elsewhere. In the event (and they may well hate me for saying this) they were quite amiable, hardly spat at me at all, played a blinder and were quickly booked for the first of seven sessions for the programme (They also did two for Mike Read and one apiece for Janice Long and Saturday Live. They did an In Concert too. Blimey). In a funny way, I thought The Damned caught the true spirit of Punk, as understood by Punks, better than their rivals. They devoted less time to striking attitudes and never forgot, as many historians have, that Punk could be quite funny as well as exciting. I mean, “Stab Yer Back”? Come on.

As a footnote and by a genuine and astonishing coincidence, this morning’s post brought me a CD by a band called Slipper. The EP is called “Earworms” and features, at the drums, Rat Scabies. The beat goes on.

John Peel – 29/05/02.

A very strong twin 12” EP set, recorded live in the studio at BBC Maida Vale in late 1976 and early ’77. The Damned were at their peak and some versions here are as good as, if not better, than the originals. "Neat, Neat, Neat," "New Rose," "I Fall," and most of the other songs that make up their debut are here. The band proves its versatility, going from the raging punk of "So Messed Up," which is as menacing as anything the Sex Pistols ever recorded, to the very Doors-ish "Feel the Pain." A highly recommended listen that proves the Damned were a step above the majority of their punk brethren.

The Damned - Music For Pleasure

A contender for the most maligned second album ever,

‘Music For Pleasure’ is as unsung as any record can get. Even its creators have condemned it. The Damned – newly expanded to a five piece with the addition of second guitarist Lu Edmonds - managed to record and release their sophomore long player before many of their punk contemporaries had got around to their first one. Naturally it was accused of being a rushed, ill-conceived release, with songs inferior to ‘Damned Damned Damned’ and an over-refined production at dramatic odds with the treble-dominated chaos of that debut LP. I doubt that the producer in question being an A-list prog rock drummer helped its punk credibility, but first choice Floyd member Syd - a true punk in all but his time - was unsurprisingly indisposed when asked to slide the faders.

Personally, I think ‘Music For Pleasure’ is a gas. Sure, it’s far from perfect, but unlike The Jam’s near contemporaneous ‘This Is The Modern World’, it shows a true progression on its makers’ debut album and – to these ears at least – doesn’t sound rushed at all. In fact, so taken was I with its relatively sophisticated, slightly prog-infused vibe that I all but disowned the back-to-basics output that the reformed, James-less Damned spilled onto the masses a couple of years later. And I never went back. As their first record label would say, if it ain’t Stiff, it ain’t worth a fuck, and that applies to The Damned in my book. Two fine albums, a handful of 45s of mostly high quality, and goodbye.
I suspect that a lot of folks’ issue with ‘Music For Pleasure’ may lie with the 45 that opens the album, ‘Problem Child’. Certainly from this punter’s perspective, it’s the weakest track here and doesn’t inspire confidence in what’s to follow. Co-credited between Brian James and Rat Scabies, it may be the drummer who is largely responsible for a one-dimensional tune which, unlike his minimalist masterpiece ‘Stab Yor Back’ on the first LP, hasn’t the energy to save it from yawndom. It drags, and seems to last a lot longer than the two minutes thirteen seconds it actually does.
Once that’s over, the vim is back – and how. ‘Don’t Cry Wolf’ and ‘One Way Love’ are Brian James-by-numbers riff fests with loads of ooomph and choruses that infuse the cranium like acid. ‘Politics’ is faster still, with some well-weird time signature abuse in its verses, a barmy lyric that expounds anything but what its title suggests (“Give me fun, not anarchy”) and an opening guitar lick that floors me every time I hear it. The two guitar line-up really makes its presence felt here. ‘Stretcher Case’, a re-recorded version of one side of a freebie single given away at The Damned’s summer gigs, is another James/Scabies co-write, thankfully blessed with more character and verve than that iffy opening track.
This far (ten minutes!) into the album, it’s been Brian James' own songs that have stimulated the grey matter. But then comes ‘Idiot Box’, a Sensible/Scabies affair, that closes the first side and really turns ‘Music For Pleasure’ upside down – in a good way. On the face of it a puerile diatribe against New York new wavers Television (I’ve never understood why), ‘Idiot Box’ is built around a staggering, jazz-influenced riff which is as far away from barre-chord simplicity as punk would ever get. That gives way in turn to a chorus lick which owes more to heavy metal, before moving to an extended coda where James gets to show off some insanely fast, high neck string plucking over Lu’s arpeggio chords. It’s punk, Jim, but not as we know it – and certainly not as we expected it in the fall of ’77. Whatever the genre, it’s fabulous: one of the standout tracks in an already great year. And it’s totally at odds with everything The Damned had released up to that point …and maybe beyond.
The rest of ‘Music For Pleasure’ is purely Brian James inspired, aside from a Dave Vanian co-credit on ‘Your Eyes’, a song built around a particularly adroit, mid-paced riff with I suspect deliberate ambiguity in the way Vanian pronounces the second word of the title (I won’t spoil it for you, but I hear another part of the anatomy… maybe it’s just me!). All five tracks – the last James would write for the band – are well up the standard set by ‘New Rose’, but two – ‘Alone’ and the closing ‘You Know’ – are little short of astounding.
‘Alone’ is as frantic a Damned song as ever existed, its 200mph riff defying all melodic and rhythmic logic while Scabies out-Moons his greatest inspirer with serious cymbal abuse and Vanian infuses another bile-filled lyric with his patented creepiness (Check out how he intones the “You're alone…and I love you” bit at the close – ugh!). It makes The Clash sound like a boyband by comparison and, musically speaking anyway, is a credible precursor to what the likes of Crass and Discharge would subsequently unleash upon the world – and I’m sure I don’t need to emphasise how influential that was.
I’ve always loved fade-ins, and ‘You Know’ has a great one. Yet another superb James riff (on the face of it simple but no one else would ever have come up with it) rises from the depths and roots itself into your consciousness like an alien in John Hurt’s gut. Delivered at a steady yet relentless pace, on and on it goes, relieved only by a not dissimilar lick after each chorus. Towards the end none other than Lol Coxhill enters, blowing some serious free jazz genius over the melle. In fact, he gets the last word as his multi tracked soprano sax closes the record alone. It makes for a close that seems resolved, yet unresolved, at the same time. I find the only way to effectively deal with it is to play the LP right through again (minus ‘Problem Child’, natch) but then the same issue arises half an hour later. Kinda strange, but I like it.
And through it all lies that Pink Floyd drummer’s production which, while unaffected, takes nothing away from the vitality of the songs and, I think, actually makes ‘Music For Pleasure’ sound much more original and relevant today than another Nick Lowe treble-fest would have done (and I speak as a true admirer of Basher in all of his guises). By the time they came to make their second album, the dying Damned had progressed every bit as much as the Canterbury bands that had so thrilled their bassist at the start of the decade and needed, in turn, a producer who could capture that change without losing their ever-present energy. Much as I wonder what ‘MFP’ would have sounded like with a Madcap production job, I’ve never had a problem with Nick Mason’s production skills. After all, no-one to my knowledge has ever criticised the way ‘Rock Bottom’ sounds, and if he was good enough for Robert Wyatt, I’m Damned sure he was good enough for this lot.
Contrary to its critics and creators, ‘Music For Pleasure’ is precisely that. Great sleeve too!

The Damned - Damned, Damned, Damned - 30th Anniversary Edition (2012)

If you like punk rock at all, you pretty much have to have a soft spot for the Damned's epochal 1976 debut album Damned Damned Damned, one of the masterstroke releases of the first wave of British punk which still sounds fresh, exciting and brilliantly snotty three decades after it was released. But if you love Damned Damned Damned, well, this remastered and lavishly expanded edition will bring a broken-toothed grin to your face in no time flat. This three-disc set (yes, three discs!) opens with the original album, which seems to have hardly dated a bit. For all the group's manic energy, the playing is sharp and muscular, Dave Vanian's vocals are powerful enough to make his histrionics work, Rat Scabies' drumming holds the band tight, Captain Sensible's bass provides a solid foundation for the melodies and Brian James' guitar wails with primitive force. The songs still communicate, and the band's lack of an upfront political or social agenda means these songs aren't chained to their era the way the early Clash, Sex Pistols or Stiff Little Fingers discs are, great as they may be. Disc two serves up 26 demos, B-sides, non-LP single tracks and radio recordings, which equals nearly everything the band recorded during their first year of operations. The two John Peel sessions and a ten-song BBC live concert will delight anyone with a fondness for the band's first era, and you may want to give "Singalong Scabies" ("Stab Yor Back" minus its vocal track) a spin at your next karaoke party. And Disc three features a lo-fi recording of one of the Damned's first public gigs, a set recorded in London during the 100 Club's first Punk Rock Festival in the summer of 1977. The recording quality is only fair, and the audience doesn't seem to be too enthusiastic, but the Damned give their all, and the show is both exciting and historically priceless. The set comes with a 16-page booklet packed with photos and featuring an excellent historical essay from Kieron Tyler. [The 30th Anniversary Expanded Edition of Damned Damned Damned not only adds plenty of fine music and historical perspective to one of the great albums of the British punk scene; this is simply essential stuff, and rock & roll fun at its most dangerous.]

“I thought the Damned caught the true spirit of punk, as understood by punks, better than their rivals’ – John Peel

The Damned were, for a short while in 1976, well ahead of the game. Their appearance on the nascent Stiff label joined the dots between punk’s older brother: pub rock and the younger, hipper crowd. Not only did they use ex-Brinsley Schwartz bass player Nick Lowe as house producer, but the label printed a picture of Eddie And The Hot Rods on the rear. Each track feature’s the hammering toms of Rat Scabies and Captain Sensible’s bass-as-guitar propelling Brian James’ machine gun axe. If Dave Vanian’s frequently flat delivery sounded distinctly laissez faire then it all added to the thrill of a band bent on acts of auto-destruction.

The key moment has to be Vanian’s sarcastic lampooning of the Shangri-Las in his ‘Is she really going out with him?’ intro to “New Rose”. This was a band who wanted to exercise the fact that they’d fused their love of early Stooges, MC5 into witty, brief bursts of anti-pop.

Brian James’ songs somehow encapsulated the thrill and nihilism of youth (“I Feel Alright”, “Neat Neat Neat”, “I Fall”) while Rat Scabies’ one contribution injected a fine sense of nasty humour as well (“Stab Your Back”).

The album highlights a number of ‘firsts’. The first UK punk single (“New Rose”), the first punk band to land a major tour (supporting Marc Bolan) and, of course, the first proper punk LP (easily a year before the Pistols).

The Damned - Play This At Your Sister (Damned, Damned, Damned)

There is a theory that Dammed guitarist Brian James invented punk rock. It's an argument that upon examination actually makes a lot of sense. Way back in early 1975 there were two young bands of guitar-slinging hipsters in London. One was the Sex Pistols, but they'd yet to play a gig and were fumbling around for the on switch. The Pistols already had the look — short hair and fucked up neo-mod togs and an already outrageous-looking singer.
The other crew was a combo known sometimes as London SS who were holed up in the basement of a cafe on Praed Street. This ad hoc crew were built around future Clash man Mick Jones and future Generation X bass player Tony James, and were busily auditioning every chancer in town, trying to create the perfect rock 'n' roll band.
They had long hair and looked like extras from a Mott the Hoople gig but they knew what they wanted and turned down many a hopeful because they didn't look right. But when Brian James turned up he sailed through their meticulous screening because he was so, well, dammed cool and he knew a thing or two about rock 'n' roll. He had already been converting the high-octane of The Stooges and the MC5 into a band of his own that had fucked about on the club circuit in Europe.
This legendary trio rehearsed for a few months and on Brian's insistence played fast and loud. A tape exists but Tony James won't let anyone hear it. They had bumbled into the blueprint of punk rock early.
It could never last and Brian left within months, taking this young drummer who insisted on wearing his flares — Rat Scabies — with him. Rat picked up his nickname from his complexion and a rat infestation in the rehearsal room, and played drums like a demon; his sartorial inelegance ruled him out of the London SS, so he was happy to jump ship with Brian. Rat was one hell of a drummer and Brian sensed that this was the kernel of a great band.
Brian already knew what was coming and he outlined punk rock to everyone he spoke to. People from the time still call him a visionary. Rat brought along this awkward-looking bloke called Ray who loved the underground end of prog and who cleaned the bogs in Croydon Fairfield halls. He would play bass and eventually be nicknamed Captain Sensible by the Tyla Gang.
They had two singers — one was a long-lost bloke who dressed in white, and the other a gravedigger who wore black known as Dave Vanian. Natural selection favoured Vanian and the Dammed played their first gigs in 1976.
Over the years it became fashionable to write the Damned out of the punk rock history; in fact now it even seems quite fashionable to write out the Sex Pistols! The story had become the story of the Clash — who, despite being a wonderful group, were just one of many great bands at that time.
The Dammed are written out because they were 'clowns' and didn't conform to the strict dress code of punk rock, but you ignore them at your peril. They do not collect the kudos because they didn't have a major label machine behind them and didn't have the posh PRs to hype them into the rock lineage.
Musically they were the equal of their peers and their début album Damned Damned Damned still sounds utterly fantastic to this day. If anyone ever wants to know what pure unadulterated rock 'n' roll is then play them this album. It's totally molten. Brian James' guitar playing is stunning. It still sounds amphetamine-fast today and the solos are outrageous — he instinctively knew how to construct a thrilling rock 'n' roll song and the album is stuffed full of them. Even if it only had 'New Rose' (the first punk single to ever get released) and the follow-up single 'Neat Neat Neat' on it it would be still be a classic album, but there are plenty more thrilling high points in a non-stop assault that makes the record one of the greats — easily up there with The Stooges, MC5, The Clash and the Pistols as prime examples of white heat guitar thrills.
'Fish', 'So Messed Up' and their demolition of The Stooges' 'I Feel Alright' are perfect examples of speedball rock 'n' roll. When they lessen the pace for the atmospheric 'Fan Club' and 'Feel the Pain' they sound dark and ghoulish, perhaps inventing goth and horror punk.
Powered along by Rat Scabies' extraordinary drums (he should have been one of the best-regarded drummers of his generation) the songs are fever-pitched exercises in pure adrenalin. Dave Vanian's crooning vocals make musical sense of the melee and the album should have been massive in year zero. Somehow the band came unstuck — they were shoved aside by the Clash and the Pistols because they were a not taken as seriously. The album artwork probably didn't help: although more sardonic than silly, it rubbed up the po-faced punk taste makers the wrong way. Even covered in cream Brian looks cool as fuck.
The Captain's outrageous showing off was considered uncool in that English way of shying away from a true extrovert — ironic in a period like punk when everyone was pretending to be wild and free but were actually conforming to new straight jacket, albeit with a couple of safety pins shoved into it.
The Damned's label, Stiff Records, was not yet in its prime and didn't have the power to force the kids into liking the band and by the autumn of 1977 when they released their second album the game was up. They were probably selling enough records to own the top ten in 2009 but were deemed failures at the time. Brian James quit, going on to form the even more ignored but equally great psychedelic outfit Tanz Der Youth.
The Dammed were swiftly airbrushed from the punk lineage but they had actually sold enough records to cement a place in punk rock history. The spotty 'kids' loved them despite what the music press were being ordered to tell them. When they reformed in 1979 they were welcomed with open arms and their erratic carrier has continued to this day. Currently under the tutelage of Vanian and Sensible, the band is a great live act with an extraordinary and ridiculous history of fallouts, fuck ups, hit records and bust-ups. Brian lives in Brighton and produces the odd local band, his legacy lost in the mists of time — but this album is a stark reminder of the sheer raw power he once had at his fingertips. He should be remembered as one of the great English rock 'n' rollers and this album is pure, high-octane proof of his innate genius and foresight.
It's simple. Damned Damned Damned is still one of the greatest punk rock records ever released and it's high time it was restored to its rightful place in the pantheon of rock 'n' roll classics.
John Robb, September 21st 2009

Motördamn - Over The Top

After the failure of the Damned’s sophomore album “Music For Pleasure”, and the departure of Brian James in 1978, Dave Vanian, the Captain, and Rat continued playing briefly as the Doomed with Lemmy jamming live on bass before the intrepid trio could reclaim the band name. With Algy Ward recruited from Aussie legends The Saints on bass, the new Damned set about recording for their sixth single, “Love Song”. Then on May 14^th 1979, (I hope you’re taking notes, I may be asking questions later) The Damned found themselves in the same studio as Motörhead. What happens when legends collide? Well, this single for one. As the back label says, ‘the seven headed beast’ put down “Over The Top” then Lemmy hung around to help crackout the Doomed’s live favourite, “Ballroom Blitz”.

Honey Bane and The Damned

Honey Bane began her musical career at the age of 14 in 1978 when she formed the punk rock band the Fatal Microbes. The band released a split 12" record with anarcho-punk band Poison Girls the same year. The first single, "Violence Grows" garnered some press attention and was given positive reviews by the British music paper Sounds.

After the 1979 breakup of the Fatal Microbes, and a stint in a juvenile detention facility that garnered more press attention, Bane began a collaboration with Crass while she was on the run from the Social Services after serving a sentence at the St. Charles Youth Treatment Centre in Essex. Lending lead vocals and backed by the band under the name Donna and the Kebabs, Crass released the EP You Can Be You in 1979. It was the debut release on Crass' newly found label, Crass Records. The following year, Bane released her debut solo single, 'Guilty' and sang vocals for Killing Joke on "What's the Matter" during a February 1980 gig at London's Venue club.

Friday 13th EP was issued as the result of a one-off deal with the NEMS Records label. It was released on 13 November 1981, which just happened to fall on a Friday. The EP was released in the UK and Sweden on 7" and also in Germany on 12" (the German 12” is the version to get). In 1981, EPs were still eligible for the UK Top 75 Singles chart, and Friday 13th reached the heady heights of  No. 50. The lead-off track, "Disco Man", was featured on a large number of compilations, also becoming a live favourite. Two of the other three tracks, "Billy Bad Breaks" and "Limit Club", were composed by the band; the final track was a cover version of The Rolling Stones song "Citadel”. The Vanian/Sensible/Scabies/Gray line-up has always been my favourite, and this EP as an example of just how good they were in the early 80s. I went through a phase of listening to Friday 13th on repeat a couple of years ago because "The Limit Club" is quite possibly one of the best songs The Damned ever did and sadly is so underrated.

I had a dream or was it true

I saw the sun set low on you

In a blood red sun's final rays

We laughed at that subtle shadow play...

"The Limit Club" is proof that The Damned really were at their peak at this time after the punk and before the goth-pop. Melancholic, swooning, psychedelic-tinged….heaven.