The Damned
Music for Pleasure

So... To be precise, what has "Music For Pleasure" done to you? I understand that those directly involved might dismiss it because it reminds them of a turbulent period, but what's the rest of the world's problem with the Damned's second album? When it was released in November 1977, critics immediately downgraded it to a faded copy, more polished in form and lacking in substance, compared to the epochal "Damned Damned Damned" from February '77, and fans turned their backs. Is it because the credits read "produced by Nick Mason," the same Nick Mason from those Pink Floyd whom the Sex Pistols—if not Malcolm McLaren—intended to demolish, and because it was recorded at the Row Britannia Studios of the Dark Side of the Moon group? Or did it simply seem less fresh and successful at the time? Whatever the answer, I disagree. I say it without fear or shame, even in the face of the Damned themselves: "Music For Pleasure" is a great album, only inferior to its predecessor by one, at most two proverbial female pubic hairs, and it's a shame it didn't have a better fate. But why inferior, after all? True, that was the first British punk album in history and one of the best ever, but do the tunes on this "difficult second album" hold up in comparison? Absolutely, damn it!

A bit of historical context, just to understand how the Damned managed to produce such a level of work in an absolutely crazy period, which is almost miraculous. Just a few months after "Damned Damned Damned" and in the middle of the promotional tour, the record companies were already breathing down their necks for the follow-up; guitarist Brian James, who had composed the debut almost entirely on his own, asked the other three (Dave Vanian: vocals; Captain Sensible: bass; Rat Scabies: drums—for those who don't know) for help in writing (in the end, he'd still write almost everything himself) and insisted on the inclusion of a second guitarist, not without some reluctance from the rest of the band, to create an imposing guitar sound modeled after the MC5 and expand the spectrum of ideas. Lu Edmunds won the auditions, and the now five Damned, still pressured by the record companies, sought a famous producer. Captain Sensible wanted his idol Syd Barrett, but it goes without saying that it wasn't meant to be, and a compromise was found in Nick Mason. According to everyone, Mason seemed uninterested, doing little more than providing equipment and studios; according to Nick, used to spending months recording albums, the youngsters wanted to do everything too quickly. Finally, internal tensions grew: they drank like sponges, collapsed, fought, got angry, Rat wanted to leave in the middle of the recordings (he would during the promotional tour), and so on.

Now, after reading this far, do an experiment: go and listen to a few songs, if you don't already know the album, and see if it sounds to you like a band falling apart with nothing left to say.

Done? Then let me tell you in a bit more detail how I see it. In the booklet notes, Brian says: “at the time, punk was change, it was trying to be different from the rest of punk and the first album. I really believe we didn’t manage that in any way, but no one can blame us for trying.” Come on, Brian! It's clear from the first notes that there's something different: with that cheeky anthem from naughty and mischievous boys rather than street thugs, Problem Child can fit well in the setlist of a punk band as much as in those of bands like AC/DC (is the title a coincidence?) and Slade. Indeed, it was released as the first single and didn't even chart: what to expect from an audience that only wants the new Neat Neat Neat and New Rose?! On the other hand, it's also better that you didn't completely stray from punk; otherwise, how would you have prophesied hardcore in the very fast and banging Politics? Allmusic says: “non-essential, an album good for '70s punk collectors.” I counter this "non-essential" by citing examples like a Stretcher Case with a bass smelling of new wave and the malevolent funk-punk You Took My Money, a bridge between the Sex Pistols and P.I.L. As for it being an album for genre completists, I respond that among them must have been a certain Jeffrey Lee Pierce, since that other relentless punk (still hardcore? Sure, why not) with slide guitar in One Way Love must have inspired "Fire Of Love" by his Gun Club at least a bit. And then, beyond discussions of influences, don't these songs make you want some healthy pogoing?! “It was supposed to be a psychedelic record,” Rat laments: if he had "Odyssey And Oracle" in mind, his bitterness is understandable, but if we think of shady figures like the Deviants and Edgar Broughton Band, then let him find something more “psychedelic” in punk than that psychotic and amphetamine blues of Alone. And what better tribute to the Stooges’ “Fun House” than You Know featuring a certain Lol Coxhill on saxophone? But the best song of all is Idiot Box, brilliant from the title: in the words, a fierce rant against Television, guilty of acting like assholes and not wanting them as an opening act on some dates in the United States; musically a bit parody and much more a homage, because, as Rat says, they liked Television a lot.

And yet, all this is not enough: the album is obviously a flop, and the band temporarily breaks up, only to reform two years later without Brian and with Sensible shifted to guitar. And this is another story, undoubtedly glorious, which the potential success of "Music For Pleasure" would probably have influenced; in the end, it's just as well it turned out this way. But now the years have passed, it can be rediscovered, and it's good that this record should not be an exception. “Judge for yourselves,” concludes Kieron Tyler, biographer of the Damned and curator of the booklet. I did.