Pure Punk Picks
New Rose – The Damned
“Is she really going out with him?” Before the music starts this song so innocently asks.
Some might know it as the title of a Joe Jackson song, that came out a short while after this song. But it’s really from the great, early sixties girl group, The Shangri-La’s and their song “The Leader Of The Pack.”
Then some pounding surf drums come in and some guitar that sounds like it could’ve been off the first New York Dolls album. All gritty and grime-y like a New York subway station and oozing with lust and anticipation.
Then the song pauses, so briefly, and a yelp of “Ah” signals for some more viciously, slashing guitar chords to slice in, much like some kind of psychotic sushi chef going berserk in a Japanese steak house.
“I’ve got a feeling inside of me. It’s kind of strange like a stormy sea. I don’t know why, don’t know why? These kind of things have got to be.”
The Damned were never known for their lyrics and the chorus just seems to be a boastful, sexist claim of deflowering the “new rose” in town.
But this song is known as the first release by a British punk band (October ’76). And with it’s energy, aggression and excitement and obvious influences of bands like Iggy and The Stooges, The New York Dolls and The Mc5- it’s a great representation of the birth of punk. I think equally as well as “Beat On The Brat”, “God Save The Queen” or “White Riot.”
And The Damned are acknowledged as the first British punk band to play in America. Just two cities- New York, CBGB’s, before venturing to Boston to play The Rat. (The only two cities in the country that had any punk scenes at the time.)
And I just missed seeing them at The Rat!
A friend and I were hanging around Kenmore Square and we noticed The Rat for the first time. We walked into the club and was surprised when the doorman asked us for five dollars as we were only familiar with bars where you just walked in and bought beer.
“It’s a band from England,” he told us, “They’re supposed to be really good.” We hadn’t heard of them or of punk, yet, so we declined.
Hmm, if I could go back in time. Would I have spent that five dollars?
But I’ve read that the sets by them were rather tame. They played two sets that night and I guess in New York it was pretty wild, as there shows back in England were, too. But in those days at The Rat, they had tables and chairs and waitresses and, I imagine, people just sat there politely, sitting on their hands while they played.
I guess, for the second set they ate pizza in between songs (purchased from the beloved Pizza Pad, just outside) because they were so bored with us yanks!
But in this song, the energy and exuberance, expressed and felt with the drums chugging like a locomotive smashing into the side of your skull while descending, dive bombing guitars ignite flames inside of you- moving like surgicalknives to deliver on the promise of, “No wait, quick lobotomies!” Where your mind is set free from all worldly concerns and your arm and limbs are allowed to shake and move in ecstatic frenzy.
After the effective, screeching bridge- “Or it will be too late, Ah!” Sounding like someone balancing on a tightrope and then suddenly pushed off the rope!
The intro comes back in and the expectancy is tripled, the tension rises and what’s left of your lobotomized mind is soon, swept off the cupboard and onto the floor for the cats to devour eagerly.
And the strange feeling inside of me? Kind of strange like a stormy sea?
Don’t mind that.
That’s just the birth of punk exploding inside of our minds at the time. Vibrating, pulsing inside our veins. Beating, pounding in our hearts- taking our spirit, our emotions, our boredom, our frustrations and displeasure, our youthful abandon along with our nihilistic despair- all combined into one force, one moment, one song
Putting it all in one capsule that we all took, not as a pill or a drug, but as a sound looking forwards- a new way of thinking, of living- all generated by our new way of hearing music.
Towards the end of the song the drums flail away in a mad eruption of passion and rhythm. Signaling a new life to a lot of us at the time, that extends to me, even now.
So, yeah, you can say to me- “It’s just a song!”
And then I can reply, “It’s just my life.”
As I pogo around, inside my head, listening to this song one more time again.
(Slimedog)
