GIG 0013 - The Damned / Third Light at Manchester International

 

There’s something special about seeing a band at the height of their powers in a venue that feels like it’s barely holding them in. Following the polished grandeur of the Apollo back in June, The Damned’s return to Manchester at the International 1 felt less like a tour stop and more like a victory lap with old friends. Although tbh, they were probably fulfilling contractual obligations having booked this gig in advance of their new found stardom!

The night was a masterclass in the band’s mid-80s evolution. As the opening chords of "Street of Dreams" filled the room, it was clear that the transition into a more atmospheric, gothic rock sound hadn't cost them any of their edge. Dave Vanian was every bit the spectral frontman, commanding the stage with a theatricality that felt perfectly suited to the intimate, smoky confines of the club.

But the true magic of the International has always been the lack of a barrier between the stage and the street. Once the feedback faded, the band didn't vanish into a dressing room. Instead, they did something few bands of their status would dream of: they walked right back out into the crowd. Well, all but the elusively shy Mr Vanian.

The scene at the bar reminded me of when I first saw them some four years ago in Colwyn Bay; Rat Scabies, was stood next to me with a "Come on, will someone get me a fucking pint!"

Nearby, the late, great Bryn Merrick was showing exactly why he was the heart of that lineup. Amidst a sea of fans asking for signatures, I decided to turn the tables, leaning in to autograph Bryn’s own arm instead of the other way around. It was a moment that could have gone sideways, but Bryn took it with a massive grin and a laugh—a testament to the genuine, ego-free person he was.

Third Light were from Chester I think and were just starting out - they played kind of post-punk melodic indie stuff. Didn't hear much of them since; or remember anymore from the gig.

Love & Rockets: Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven

 

My introduction to Love & Rockets was completely unexpected, arriving via a budget-friendly Cherry Red Records sampler LP—a purchase necessitated by bedsit living and cheap price. On it was the track "Haunted When The Minutes Drag," which instantly grabbed hold of me. Even now, the song remains utterly captivating, and I still yearn for the track's sprawling, eight-minute duration to stretch out even longer.

Of course, I was aware that three-fourths of Love & Rockets were the remnants of the legendary Bauhaus (Daniel Ash, David J, and Kevin Haskins). While I had the requisite copy of "Bela Lugosi's Dead" and had seen their iconic Top of the Pops performance of "Ziggy Stardust," I consciously viewed this new group as a distinct entity—and they truly were.

Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven is the definitive statement that this band was not just "Bauhaus minus Peter Murphy." It established their new direction, moving away from gothic rock and embracing a sound rooted in neo-psychedelia and expansive alternative rock.

The album, however, is not without its transitional quirks. It showcases the trio's interest in the electronic textures that Daniel Ash and Kevin Haskins had explored in Tones on Tail. This is evident in the liberal use of what sounds like Haskins' new electronic drum kit, giving the record a distinct mid-80s flavor and a slightly raw, experimental quality.

While this electronic-heavy production is a defining characteristic of the album, "Haunted When The Minutes Drag" still rises above the rest. It is the undeniable highlight, utilizing those electronic and psychedelic elements to create a genuinely hypnotic and timeless piece of music that continues to haunt and reward repeat listens.