Black Flag - Damaged

A recent review of The Dirty Projectors got me thinking about its inspiration: Black Flag’s Damaged.
In fact, The Dirty Projectors' Rise Above is shitty enough that I actually needed to go back to Damaged and listen to it repeatedly, to get the shitty taste out of my mouth that Rise Above left behind.
I can tell you about the time when I first heard Damaged and the impact it had on me. But you probably have your own experiences and mine wouldn’t come near the one’s you already hold dear.
So let’s just say that Damaged was good enough for me to tolerate a lot of later-year bullshit that Black Flag managed to put out. Don’t try to convince me that The Process Of Weeding Out is anywhere near the caliber of Damaged. There’s nothing you can do to make me believe that Loose Nut needs to be in my collection.
The Flags released a lot of shit in their day and Damaged remains the album that is required listening for everyone, and I mean everyone, who considers themselves to be a fan of rock ‘n roll.
There are two critical keys to the album’s importance. The first is the total chaos of Greg Ginn’s guitar playing. At first glance, Ginn appears to be barely capable. But upon closer examination, Ginn has not only come up with some classic riffs hidden behind ADHD excitement and police state oppression. Ginn sounds like he needed to get these songs out in a hurry, because the authorities he encountered at the time always seemed to be pulling the plug on the band every time they made a note. There was no time for a second take when you’re always on the lookout for the man.
The other thing to listen for in Ginn’s off-kilter solos is how they slyly distract you from considering that Greg is a hippie deep down. Worshipping at the alter of Garcia would be too easy, in fact, it would have been disastrous. Ginn wisely chooses to match his solos with jazz inspirations and improvisation.
And then there’s Henry Rollins who was not only a recent transplant to SoCal at the time of the record, but he was also a newly christened member, put in a position that garnered the most attention outside of Ginn’s antics. You can hear Rollins deliver each razorblade vocal take with equal parts nervous energy and admiration; Hank got the gig after being making himself present at Flag shows when they went through his hometown of D.C. A quick take on the microphone one night proved to be prophetic as Ginn and Dez Cadena later offered the role to Rollins after singer Cadena moved to guitar.
While not fully developed with the persona that we know today, this is Hank at his most vulnerable. Oh sure, he’s not singing love songs here and his bile is totally believable throughout Damaged, we do see Rollins actually trying to impress his bandmates with his ability while attempting to make the songs his own, even after other singers prefaced the material before him.
It works; the chaos, the spontaneity, the anger, it’s all here and it’s all believable.
At first, you notice the “novelty” songs (“T.V. Party,” “Six Pack”) and the “anthems” (“Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie,” “Police Story”) before realizing that the vast majority of this album is dark, claustrophobic, and fueled by unchecked rage. It’s the work of a group of poverty-stricken individuals who still believe they have a shot in life (“We are born with a chance/And I am gonna have my chance!”- “Rise Above”) even while they’re reminded daily by the cops, the neighbors and their wallets that there’s little chance that they’ll rise above anything (“It’s hard to survive/Don’t know if I can do it”-“Room 13”)
Damaged brought the band enough notoriety that they could essentially tour nonstop and be provided with enough cash to get to the next gig. But the road also brought about changes to the bands style, attitude, and lineup. Dez was edged out, the barrage of abuse hurled at Rollins turned him into a very humorless person, the audience expectations of the band made Ginn consider other genres, some of which (metal) alienated the paying crowds who came to hear “T.V. Party” and “Six Pack.” Damaged seemingly defined American hardcore as quickly as it tried to distance itself from it with the follow-up (and last great Flag studio effort) My War.
The version I remember is the Roadrunner version that had a different version of “TV Party” and “Louie Louie” at the end. The black and white cover was cooler too.