Shortly after punk came and went in England in the late ’70s, Elvis Costello looked back in appreciation. “The Damned were the best punk group, because there was no art behind them; they were just enjoying themselves,” Costello told Greil Marcus of Rolling Stone in 1982. “(The Sex Pistols, the Clash and the other punk bands) weren’t just wild. It was considered and calculated. Very art. . . . The Damned were just nasty.”
The Damned fired the first shot of the punk era with a breathless two-minute single, “New Rose,” and followed it with a classic album, “Damned Damned Damned.” Soon after they became the first of the British punk bands to tour North America, a motley aggregation of working-class kids out for a joy ride. The previous gigs held by hell-bent drummer Rat Scabies and tutu-wearing bassist Captain Sensible were floor sweeper and toilet-bowl cleaner, respectively. They were recruited by swaggering guitarist Brian James, along with Dave Vanian, who could barely sing but looked great impersonating a vampire. They managed to offend just about everybody, including Patti Smith, who barged into their dressing room to berate them after their debut performance at CBGB’s in New York.
After making the definitive punk album, subsequent releases found the band dabbling in more experimental styles. As if thumbing their nose at the punk-rock rulebook, the Damned hired Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason to produce their second album. It was a disaster, but the Damned forged on for 21 years — breaking up, re-uniting and tossing off albums; Sensible also built a solo career that produced several hits.
Vanian and Sensible (a.k.a. Ray Burns) are back at it again, leading a new version of the Damned with Patricia Morrison, formerly of Sisters of Mercy and the Gun Club. They’ve written new songs that they’re shopping to labels while touring North America for the first time in six years, including a stop March 15 at the House of Blues. A few days ago, Play On caught up with the good Captain on the road.
How does touring the U.S. now compare to the first time?
At the time, punk was such a new thing, and people were threatened by it. They thought it was the end of civilization as they knew it. I had people pull guns on me. I was on stage, and I have always been a bit outspoken. So if I felt like saying, `American foreign policy is treating Britain like a little poodle,’ then I’d say it. Someone took offense to that, and ran out and got a gun from their bloody car. Then there was the time a fire brigade demanded some cash off of us — although that was because we set a hotel on fire, I suppose. (laughs). It was all pretty mad in those days. And now, the band is still mad, only the audience likes it.
How’d you tick off Patti Smith?
On that first tour, the audiences used to stand and stare. I love insults, I love people yelling and fighting us and calling us filthy names. But a nonreaction, I cannot tolerate. So we ended up chucking pizza at the audience. Patti Smith was disgusted and came in the dressing room and called us “Limey (expletives).”
You’re still into cross-dressing?
Yeah. Only I don’t do it for outrage reasons anymore. I actually get off on it (laughs). On this tour I’ve got a really nice little pink dress. I look quite sweet in it.
Does Dave Vanian still think he’s starring in a horror movie?
His hair is a bit shorter and it’s now in a quiff. He looks like a mutant son of Elvis. He and Patricia Morrison got married in Las Vegas six months ago by an Elvis impersonator.
How did you come to hire Nick Mason to produce the second record?
I always thought the band should grow and grow and follow whatever direction it wanted. Once we did the punk album, we all thought we should go in a more experimental direction, take it as far as we could go. Turning the tape over and playing it backward, getting sitars and fuzz organ and weird instruments in. We wanted (Pink Floyd founder) Syd Barrett to produce the second album, this union of psychedelia and great British pop music, of which Syd is the governor. But Syd couldn’t do it (because he had a mental breakdown), so we ended up with Nick Mason.
Did you get along?
We got along alright with him — if you wanted to talk souped-up motor bikes and racing cars, he’s the man. But to be quite honest, he didn’t know what he was doing, with us anyway. He made us sound a little too clean and clinical. But the Damned should always be raw.
The first album was played with such speed and ferocity — what was going through your mind at the time?
Quite a lot of strong cider, actually.
The rumors are that you guys were gobbling speed like candy.
I didn’t actually do any of that stuff. We were still teenagers, except for Brian, and I didn’t know anything about drugs. The original lineup was four wild and angry people in a drunken mania.
Allegedly you got the name “Captain Sensible” by impersonating a pilot?
I’m so scared of flying that I have to get quite drunk to get on a plane. So I was blundering about the plane on the way to this big festival with some other bands. I used to wear these Army shop clothes, and I was wearing an outfit with epaulettes on the shoulder. A few people thought I was the pilot. So I’m slobbering, `Don’t worry, I’m in control. We are knitting the parachutes as we speak.’ And one of the other bands said, `My God, it’s Captain Sensible.’ I didn’t like the name, but it kind of stuck.
