A Quick Damned Story

Here's how I remember it:


Late 90's

The Mekons were playing at First Ave. in Minneapolis. I don't remember what
they were touring in support of. One of the last songs they played was a
then-new song that had a chorus of "Belly to belly, back to back". 
Never being a big enough Mekons fan to know their catalog, but enough to
see them live with a free ticket, I had a good time. I went by myself, as was the case most of the time.

During the entirety of the Mekon's set I kept staring at this long-haired,
bearded hippy playing the balalaika near the back of the stage. The guy
looked really familiar but I just couldn't put my finger on where I knew
him from.


After the band was done I was standing around on the dancefloor talking to some friends when the hippy balalaika player walk past me and it suddenly hit me. I spun around and tapped him on the shoulder. He too spun around and looked very surprised.

I said "the whole show I was trying to figure out who you are, and it
finally hit me; you're Lu Edmonds from the Damned! It would be an honor
to shake your hand!

Lu's eyes widened and he said "No one's called me Lu in AGES, it would be MY honour to shake YOUR hand!"


We shook hands, Lu went backstage, and I went home.

Here's a link to a review courtesy of No Depression

The half-a-time I saw The Damned

The half-a-time I saw The Damned

Here’s how I remember it.

The Damned were scheduled to play a drunk show at First Ave in 1986. The drinking age at that time was 19. I was 18. And pissed off that I couldn’t go to the show.

A week or so before the gig the manager at Northern Lights, the cool record store downtown, said that The Damned were going to do an in-store record signing and asked me if I was available to be “security” for the event; basically just keeping an eye on the throngs of miscreant Damned fans to make sure they were not stealing records, drinking, smoking weed etc. Of course I accepted the unpaid offer, hell, I was going to be there anyway.

The day rolled around and my then-girlfriend and I arrived half an hour before the band was scheduled to show up and the place was already pretty crowded. I got the low-down from the manager of the store and took to my post at the top of the stairs where I had a bird’s eye view of the entire layout.

Soon there was a line out the door, snaking up the first staircase, around the upstairs counter, back down the second set of stairs and to the main counter where the band was going to be signing records.

There was a momentary hush, then loud cheers and applause from the crowd, and I was able to make out Dave Vanian’s black-with-white-streak hair bobbing up and down, being lead to a stool behind the main counter. The manager of the store told the fans to quiet down and explained how the event was going to transpire.

Soon enough the line started moving and rabid Damned fans were excitedly passing behind me as I kept an eye out, ready to point out the n'ere-do-well troublemakers.

Of which there were exactly none.

After about 45 minutes the throngs of leather jacketed rock n roll fans was thinning out and the manager of the store said that he could take it from there, and he handed me a promo poster of the cover of the Phantasmagoria album, the record the band was touring in support of, as a “thank you” for helping out. Because the band was still milling around behind the counter I walked up and asked Bryn Merrick and Roman Jugg to sign the poster. Both happily endorsed it and passed it along to Dave Vanian. After Vanian signed it he handed it back to me. I thanked him and walked to the end of the counter where Rat Scabies was holding court and asked him to sign it as well, which he did with a flourish. He then asked me if I was going to the show, and I had to tell him that my then-girlfriend and I were a year too young to get in. Having heard of the early days of The Damned and their loyalty to their fans I sheepishly asked if he could sneak us in. He thought for a second, said “hang on a sec” and leaned over and had a short whispered conversation with Dave. Rat came back and said “Look here, we can’t sneak you in, but we’re about to go do soundcheck right after we’re done here. Why don’t you guys come with us for that. It’s better than nothing.”

Fifteen minutes later the in-store was all wrapped up and the band, their manager, and about 20 fans walked the block from the record store to First Ave, and the manager knocked on the door. One of the First Ave. staff came to the door and looked extremely uncomfortable when he saw the entourage that had followed the band. The manager of the club was called down and immediately said “These kids can’t come in here with you!”

The Damned’s manager shouted “Look, these kids are the reason we’re here, and your club won’t let them in tonight. Either they come in now or we go back to the hotel!”

The club manager thought for a moment, then opened the door and all 26 of us entered the otherwise closed club.

The band eventually took the stage for soundcheck, which took about 45 minutes. The band was then told to be back around 10pm.

Dave said “Hang on, we’re not done yet”. The Damned then proceeded to play another 45 minute set just for us. I don’t remember what songs they played, I just remember thinking that we were getting a private concert by one of my favorite bands.

Finally they ended their impromptu set. Rat and Dave then jumped down from the stage and approached me and my then-girlfriend. Rat said “Sorry it wasn’t the full set, but you get the idea.”

The band stuck around another half an hour talking to all of us until the club manager insisted that we all had to leave so they could open the venue for “real” customers.

I said my goodbyes and thank you’s to Rat and Dave, and my then-girlfriend and I walked to our bus stop, grinning ear to ear.