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.