SURVIVE! How I Toured With THE DAMNED...And Lived

Saturday: ''This is why the Russians don't bother to steal British secrets." The middle-aged cabbie points out his window, his arm sweeping over a massive Manchester council estate called Hulme (rhymes with tomb). Put up just ten years ago, these ugly, squat buildings are showing visible signs of decay in their yards of packed rough dirt, the dead gray, cracked structures. The Russell Club, known as The Factory on the nights punk bands play, is smack in the center of Hulme. It's a tatty place, but one that offers a small spark of communality for the frustrated area youths who quit school at 15 and work as janitors or street sweepers when they find work at all.

Over 1500 of the North's lost generation are likely to pack The Factory for two shows by The Damned, as the group bums rubber across Britain, trying to prove its burial was premature. This tour is make it or permanently break it for the band, who were spewed into prominence on the first wave in 1976, sharing national headlines with the Pistols and Stranglers. But the cheers soon turned into jeers when The Damned were unable to write songs that matched the fury of their hit singles (in England), "New Rose" and "Neat, Neat, Neat." Their gigs drove away potential supporters, turned off by the group's sloppy performances at overload volume.