Fifty years after igniting the UK's punk scene, the original chaotic trio of The Damned – frontman Dave Vanian, guitarist Captain Sensible and drummer Rat Scabies – have reunited for a landmark anniversary. They are releasing their first album together since 1995 and preparing for a major show at London's Wembley Arena this April, celebrating a legacy defined by musical adventure, infamous internal feuds, and a distinct lack of corporate polish.
A Tumultuous History of Break-ups and Make-ups
The band's story is famously convoluted, featuring three major break-ups in the late 70s, late 80s, and early 90s. Sensible and Scabies have had repeated spells out of the line-up, with Scabies only returning in 2022 after a 27-year absence. The rift was primarily between him and Captain Sensible, though at various points each of the three has fallen out spectacularly with the others.
This fractured history has, they admit, harmed their legacy. While contemporaries like the Sex Pistols and The Clash have easily defined narratives, The Damned's identity is more complex. They released Britain's first punk single, New Rose, before veering into psychedelic pop and becoming definitive goth icons for many. Their 13 studio albums are spread across nine different labels, preventing a coherent reissue programme.
"Everyone in the band thought they were the best one in it," Scabies recalls of the early days. "Any one of us could have fronted their own band." Vanian agrees, noting that today there is "a lot more give-and-take." After decades of friction, the water is now under the bridge. "I didn't want us standing around a grave saying, 'We should have done that while we had the chance,'" Scabies says of the reunion.
New Album and the Ghost of Brian James
Their forthcoming album, Not Like Everybody Else, due on 23 January, is their first with Vanian, Sensible, and Scabies since 1995's Not of This Earth. It is dedicated to founding guitarist and songwriter Brian James, who died in March 2025. The record consists entirely of covers that reflect the 60s garage band tastes that united them at the start.
"The one thing we all agree on musically is 60s garage bands," Sensible explains. The album serves as a whistle-stop tour of their formative influences, featuring songs by The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, The Creation, and Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd.
Despite being forever labelled a punk band, The Damned moved far beyond the genre after 1978. Albums like Machine Gun Etiquette and The Black Album – which featured the 17-minute prog-psych epic Curtain Call – showcased their eclectic ambitions. By the mid-80s, they were gothic psychedelic hitmakers on a major label with songs like Grimly Fiendish and their dramatic cover of Eloise.
Financial Regrets and Creative Freedom
One notable regret for Vanian is their failure to translate UK success into a major breakthrough in the United States, unlike peers such as Billy Idol. "I get so many people from other bands telling me, 'If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have started my band,'" he says. "And that's very nice and flattering, but it hasn't helped me, and I'd like to have a little bit of luxury before I pop off."
However, their chaotic approach often sabotaged commercial opportunities. Sensible recounts a legendary incident where the band, left alone in a record executive's office, proceeded to demolish the place, ensuring they were not signed. Their appetite for self-destruction was legendary, from instrument-smashing to pie-throwing, both on and off stage.
Yet this very chaos preserved their unique identity. "We wouldn't still be playing if we'd got stinking rich," Sensible reflects. "I'm glad we did it this way because I bloody enjoy the shows and travel. None of us got lazy and lost our drive." Scabies echoes the sentiment, valuing their lack of corporate packaging. "We didn't all wear the same clothes. We didn't have a corporate logo."
As they approach their 50th-anniversary show at Wembley Arena on 11 April, the mood is unexpectedly harmonious. The Damned, forever the beloved misfits of British music, are enjoying a late-career peak, finally at peace with their past and each other, ready to celebrate half a century of glorious, unmanageable noise.
