Post by Fuggle on Nov 28, 2008 13:48:15 GMT -5
The Damned at Carling Academy, Islington, London
Happy Talk encore was not an act of desperation but a celebration, says Thomas H Green
Happy: The Damned
When the Damned's guitarist Captain Sensible walked onstage, he promised that the evening ahead would contain no Happy Talk, his two-decade-old solo hit borrowed from the musical South Pacific. Red beret and plastic shades intact, he didn't seem to have aged a great deal since 1982, when that song perched briefly at the number one spot.
Two hours later, as the Damned's set drew to a close, he simply couldn't resist and led a Happy Talk singalong with his long-term bandmate, vocalist Dave Vanian, sheepishly joining in.
It was not an act of desperation but a celebration. The Damned had won the crowd over. In an unlikely turn of events, they achieved this primarily by playing songs from their just-released album, So, Who's Paranoid?, a rare state of affairs for a band who usually thrive on their old punk heritage. New numbers such as the driving Under the Wheels or the carousel euphoria of Dr Woofenstein whipped up the hard-moshing crowd.
The Damned released the first UK punk-rock single, New Rose, in October 1976, and when they played it here, an appropriate quantity of slam-dancing broke out.
Their set lacked consistency: they occasionally forgot words and ran out of steam. Their career has been similarly erratic, although their willfully oddball behaviour has sometimes led them to unexpected places, notably a stint as mid-Eighties goth-pop chart regulars.
Tonight, they stayed away from this era, although sartorially Dave Vanian indulged himself, dressed in a white bow tie, tails and pencil moustache, a vampiric white streak in his hair, a fusion of louche Thirties film star and Private Walker from Dad's Army.
When they closed the show with an encore, one of their best-loved songs, the raucous 1979 single Smash It Up, the Damned's thus far faceless other three members came into their own. In particular, their preposterously named keyboard player Monty Oxymoron jived wildly in his brash skull-covered shirt, shaking big coils of hippie hair, and the crowd slam-danced in appreciation.
While their punk contemporaries the Clash and the Sex Pistols were and still are taken seriously by the media, the Damned are often relegated to the second division, perceived as simply something for the Punk's-Not-Dead gig circuit. But since Johnny Rotten is currently on our televisions advertising butter, this seems slightly unfair.
On the evidence of tonight, the Damned, in their ramshackle way, appear to be refreshing the spirit of punk more than adequately.
Rating: ***
Tour runs until Dec 21. Details: www.officialdamned.com
Happy Talk encore was not an act of desperation but a celebration, says Thomas H Green
Happy: The Damned
When the Damned's guitarist Captain Sensible walked onstage, he promised that the evening ahead would contain no Happy Talk, his two-decade-old solo hit borrowed from the musical South Pacific. Red beret and plastic shades intact, he didn't seem to have aged a great deal since 1982, when that song perched briefly at the number one spot.
Two hours later, as the Damned's set drew to a close, he simply couldn't resist and led a Happy Talk singalong with his long-term bandmate, vocalist Dave Vanian, sheepishly joining in.
It was not an act of desperation but a celebration. The Damned had won the crowd over. In an unlikely turn of events, they achieved this primarily by playing songs from their just-released album, So, Who's Paranoid?, a rare state of affairs for a band who usually thrive on their old punk heritage. New numbers such as the driving Under the Wheels or the carousel euphoria of Dr Woofenstein whipped up the hard-moshing crowd.
The Damned released the first UK punk-rock single, New Rose, in October 1976, and when they played it here, an appropriate quantity of slam-dancing broke out.
Their set lacked consistency: they occasionally forgot words and ran out of steam. Their career has been similarly erratic, although their willfully oddball behaviour has sometimes led them to unexpected places, notably a stint as mid-Eighties goth-pop chart regulars.
Tonight, they stayed away from this era, although sartorially Dave Vanian indulged himself, dressed in a white bow tie, tails and pencil moustache, a vampiric white streak in his hair, a fusion of louche Thirties film star and Private Walker from Dad's Army.
When they closed the show with an encore, one of their best-loved songs, the raucous 1979 single Smash It Up, the Damned's thus far faceless other three members came into their own. In particular, their preposterously named keyboard player Monty Oxymoron jived wildly in his brash skull-covered shirt, shaking big coils of hippie hair, and the crowd slam-danced in appreciation.
While their punk contemporaries the Clash and the Sex Pistols were and still are taken seriously by the media, the Damned are often relegated to the second division, perceived as simply something for the Punk's-Not-Dead gig circuit. But since Johnny Rotten is currently on our televisions advertising butter, this seems slightly unfair.
On the evidence of tonight, the Damned, in their ramshackle way, appear to be refreshing the spirit of punk more than adequately.
Rating: ***
Tour runs until Dec 21. Details: www.officialdamned.com