in the tesla all is quiet as we weave the roads to get to the highway, it's a smooth elegant ride. the moonroof has stolen my heart, and i look out gazing at the skies, the huge raincloud forming over the horizons. we hit the highway and i see a lone white goat standing upon a huge rock face. i have no idea how he can get back as the face is sheer but by the time i ponder the goats dilemma we are in the city.

it's always fantastic to see dave, ryissa and wild child, these are my church friends, and all evening i feel weird. i feel like i am having an illicit relationship with another band. the damned.

and we watch tim rodgers doing iggy pop with the hard ons. when the damned appear it's mental. far too loud, slightly distorted. it gets louder. it gets more distorted. my head feels like it's going to explode.  my ears hurt, it's painful, an ordeal. i never should have come i think, i'm a church man, this london punk thing was great when i was young, but now i need to listen. i need subtlety, nuance and elegance not loudness and distortion. the vocals sound muffled. i can't recognise words or songs. as a band they are a strange group, each member completely different from one another. captain sensible is an idiot, swearing and carrying on, we do get a little happy talk from him but mostly it's incomprehensible nonsense. david vanian is just a strange front man in a black suit and wide brimmed hat, he hardly speaks or ever shows his face. he walks from one side of the stage to the other, hangs in the shadows, hardly speaks to anyone else on stage. the keyboard man is a freak, he's the most animated as he attempts to pull in the audience. the songs whizz by at ten million miles an hour. 

when it's over it's a relief.