It’s Guy Fawkes night, so what better way to celebrate the greatest attempt to overthrow the establishment (and replace it with another one of a different religion), than to look at my punk album collection. Well, a small part of it (one album by The Damned, but mainly I’m going to warble on about the wildest gig I have ever attended).

This week (2nd November) in 1979 The Damned released their third album, called Machine Gun Etiquette. In 1977 they had released two albums (Damned, Damned, Damned & Music For Pleasure) both on Stiff Records. They didn’t release an album in ’78, changed line-ups and then moved to Chiswick (the record label, not the place in West London).

Rainbow

Then on the 30th November they headlined at The Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park. Me and my mate Steve Byrne got tickets, went along and were never quite the same again. I saw them once more at a free concert in Harlow Park a couple of years later (actually in 1987, around the time they released Eloise as a single) but that was a very tame, laid back gig by comparison. Having said that, The Stranglers and Sex Pistols gigs I attended were also tame by comparison. But I’ll come on to that in a minute.

On The Train

From what I remember, Bernie and I went up to Finsbury Park on the over ground from Harlow Town to Tottenham Hale, then got the tube to Finsbury Park. All very easy. The Rainbow was a top venue on the circuit. Take a look at some of the bands who played during the few weeks after we went:-

• The Jam
• Paul McCartney & Wings
• Queen
• The Police
• Dire Straits

A little history on the venue can be found here.

(Rainbow Theatre history)

In The Pub

There was a pub nearby which Steve and I went in to have a drink before the gig started. And who was sitting at the bar getting sloshed? Rat Scabies, drummer of The Damned. Someone went up to him and asked for an autograph but he refused, saying his name was John Smith (which he was probably drinking). His name is actually Chris Millar so he lied twice in one go.

We went in to The Rainbow to find our seats. We were in Row D in the stalls and when we got there we discovered the first three rows of seats (A-C) had been removed to allow people to stand and jump around at the front. So now we were in the front row. Except others started arriving and standing in front of us so we stood up and moved to the front too.

Max Splodge

From what I’ve discovered, Spoldgenessabounds were supporting but I don’t remember seeing them (I was probably still in the pub). Splodge didn’t release the classic single Two Pints of Lager and a Packet Of Crisps Please until 1980 so I wouldn’t have heard of them. I did see them a few years back at the St. Anne’s Castle in Great Leighs so I made up for it.

Anyway, The Damned came on, Dave Vanian the singer dressed like a Transylvanian Dracula character after which he’d taken his name, Captain Sensible (who was nothing of the sort) on guitar and keyboards, Algy Ward, leather clad biker punk on bass and John Smith from the pub on drums.

747

The Damned smashed into their first number. It was an explosion of noise, like a bomb going off in my head. In fact it was a noise, just a high volume screaming noise from the amps and PA. It was like tinnitus on speed. The screeching noise didn’t stop and a few minutes later the first song was over. I knew this not because the noise in my ears had disappeared but because the band physically stopped playing. The screeching though continued unabated. They started the next song and the screeching banshee wailing continued. It continued for four songs and then by the fifth song I detected something. A slightly different pitch from the whining drone I’d heard so far. It was a guitar. Then I heard a voice, then drums, then the bass. They all came flooding in, as my ears became accustomed to standing next to a 747 at take-off.

Groaning

A song or two later and there was a sudden groan from behind us. I looked round. Sweating bodies were everywhere. Then there was another groan and suddenly we all fell backwards as Row D gave way under the pressure of the people standing and they buckled and fell apart (the seats not the people). People stumbled over the wreckage of the seating but the gig continued. Then a few songs later it happened again. A short groan, then metal buckling and wood splintering, everyone falling backwards, people stumbling and falling over, others falling on them, then people helping them back up. Then a few minutes later it happened again. I was expecting the gig to be halted because people were getting trampled on but it didn’t. As with the titanic, the band played on.

So people got back up and carried on jumping around. About six or seven rows collapsed during the gig but that wasn’t the worst bit. The worst bit was when people starting flinging pieces of broken seating forward because presumably, they were stumbling over it. We were still at the front, pressed hard against the wall between the orchestra pit and the stage. We couldn’t have got out if we’d wanted to. Every so often a large piece of furniture, a wooden seat or a steel frame, came wheeling over our heads and landed in the orchestra pit. And it kept happening. The pit started to fill up after a while and debris littered the stage.

Injuries

Then the band were informed of the carnage going on in the front few rows, the gig was stopped and a punk, in bondage trousers and a mohican was brought up onto the stage. Algy Ward the bass player shouted over the PA. “Stop this throwing of seats. People are getting injured!” They were. The mohican boy had blood pouring from a head wound. Then, as if to punctuate the call for calm, a large piece of twisted metal came cartwheeling through the air and landed on the stage just beside Ward, and skittered away towards the drums at the back. He shook his head, looked across the crowd and said, “I’m never playing London again.” He was as good as his word. He left the band a few months later.

The jagged, heavy metal weapons continued to whizz overhead, people got hit and were taken out by their friends. Then The Damned finished their set, everyone went crazy and they came back on for an encore. Captain Sensible was dressed in his characteristic Pink and Yellow furry suit which at some point in the proceedings caused him to over heat. So he took the top off and threw it in the audience. Then the trousers came off and they flew overhead too and were clawed away by a thousand grasping hands.

Clothes?

He was now only wearing a pair of socks. He put his guitar back on which covered his dignity. They finished the encore, went off, came back on but this time, instead of wearing conventional clothing he had an inflatable dinosaur tail on. It was so big though that whenever he turned around the rest of the band got knocked over. Then the tail went into the audience and people pulled it. Captain Sensible then found himself flying through the air, suddenly landing on his back. This was his cue to remove the tail before he ended up in the orchestra pit with the rest of the rubbish.

I can only assume he had been angered by being pulled unceremoniously across the stage because his guitar went into the amps at the back, then he pushed the amp head off the cabinets, picked up an Orange 4×4 stack, staggered across the stage and flung it into the audience next to where I was standing. People grabbed it as it flew across the orchestra pit, held it for a second on the wall where it landed, then pushed it into the pit with everything else.

Drumkit

This was the cue for Rat Scabies, John Smith, Chis Millar or whatever, to remove his apparel (not a pretty sight), kick his drumkit to pieces, smash it into the amps and walk off.

The lights went up and only then was the true carnage revealed. We picked our way across row after row of broken seat debris. It was like a warzone, except it was inside the building. Then I noticed a large chunk of Captain Sensible’s pink jumper lying on the floor. I went to pick it up as a souvenir and someone grabbed it at the same time. There was a little tug-of-war before apunk lad came up and said, “Here I’ve got a razor,” and cut it in half. We smiled and went outside. It was cold as we walked to the station.

What?

I couldn’t hear a thing except for the permanent shrieking in my ears. Bernie was talking but it was as if he was mute. His mouth was moving but no sound appeared to be coming out. “WHAT?” I shouted. He was saying something about the gig being wild. When we got on the underground we discovered the others on the train weren’t overly keen on us shouting at each other at full volume. So we stopped talking. My ears were still ringing a couple of days later. The wildest gig I’ve ever been to. Even wilder than Paul Simon in Hyde Park.

So what has all this got to do with Discogs? Well, Discogs is a buying and selling vinyl database online. You create an account and you can buy and sell second hand vinyl (or cassette tape, 8-track, CD etc.). You can also catalogue your collection and it’ll give you a value. So, I started doing just that. I haven’t finished yet but although I don’t have enough to give up work (actually I’m already retired), I have more wrapped up in black, circular plastic than I thought I did.

Discogs – Music Database and Marketplace

Catalogue

As an example, I bought Machine Gun Etiquette in November 79, when it was released. It probably cost about £4.99 at the time. It’s worth 42 years later? Depending on it’s quality, anything up to £70. So when I started cataloguing The Damned album I remembered the gig, then Steve Byrne sent me message the other day asking me the same question.

Anyway, the best I can do in my collection is a Never Mind The Bollocks album with a missing track which has been sold for over £900.

So, based on that, even if it’s just for the insurance purposes I suggest if you have any vinyl at home, start cataloguing it on Discogs. Or better still, give it away…to me.

Have a nice Firework night, and whatever you do, do not blow up parliament (difficult as it is to resist I know).

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