Captain Sensible: Im The Chaos Merchant of The Damned.
Interview by Paul Marshall
There are interviews you prepare for, and then there are interviews that take you straight back to being a kid discovering the records that would shape your life forever.
Talking to Captain Sensible of The Damned was exactly that.
When our Zoom connection flickers into life, the Captain is comfortably at home in England, fresh from the thoroughly un-rock 'n' roll task of walking the dog. I tell him I was born just outside London myself and confess that The Damned were one of the bands that heavily influenced my childhood. His trademark grin appears instantly.
"You must be a young whipper snapper," he laughs.
"If only," I reply.
"It's great getting old, init!" he fires back before delivering the kind of line only Captain Sensible could. "My mind is still a juvenile delinquent, but the body keeps telling me to behave myself."
Within moments it's obvious why this man has remained one of punk's great survivors. Warm, witty and effortlessly self-deprecating, Captain Sensible is exactly who you'd hope he would be. A genuine world figure who has lived enough stories to fill several lifetimes, and undoubtedly owns more than a few faded T-shirts to prove it.
One of the first questions I ask concerns the names that have become legendary. Given that Raymond Ian Burns became Captain Sensible and Christopher Millar became Rat Scabies, do they actually call each other by those names away from the stage?
"Oh yes," he laughs. "Rat is Rat and I'm Cap."
The explanation behind the aliases is wonderfully practical rather than glamorous.
"We didn't know punk rock was ever going to be any career. We didn't think anyone would pay us to make the noise we were making, we were just having fun."
Back in the mid-1970s, weekly visits to Britain's DHSS to collect unemployment benefits were simply part of life. Playing a few gigs in local pubs risked officials deciding you were earning enough to survive.
"So we changed our names so we could continue to be layabouts," he says with impeccable comic timing. "That's why there's a Johnny Rotten, Joe Strummer and Captain Sensible, we were all trying to keep our income flow going."
When I ask what his job description was back then, he barely pauses.
"I was a drunken maniac."
Another laugh.
"The booze was free so I was encouraged, that’s the way I saw it. And I found I was quite good at the job."
Then comes another perfectly delivered punchline.
"I wish I'd chosen a better name than Captain Sensible. It was imposed on me because I'm neither a captain nor sensible. I was an absolute liability."
I point out that after nearly fifty years he's clearly become worthy of the title.
"Well, maybe now you are Captain Sensible."
He laughs before admitting his unofficial role within The Damned remains unchanged.
"The rest of the band sort of raise their eyes to the heavens every time I open my mouth. I slag everybody off."
Eventually, he says, those musicians he'd spent years taking playful shots at inevitably appear backstage, at television shows or industry parties.
"They look at you and go, 'Oh no... not him.' But that's my job. I'm the chaos merchant of The Damned."
That chaos has somehow remained remarkably productive.
Nearly five decades after The Damned first detonated across Britain, I ask what still inspires him to pick up a guitar.
"Every time I plug into a loud amplifier," he says without hesitation, "it rejuvenates you. You feel like a yobbo again."
That youthful spirit explains why The Damned still sound vital rather than nostalgic.
We naturally arrive at "New Rose", released on 22 October 1976, the first single by a British punk band, arriving thirty-five days before the Sex Pistols released "Anarchy in the U.K."
Did they realise history was unfolding?
"We were doing it for ourselves really," he says.
"There was no audience for punk rock in 1976. If you walked down the road dressed like a punk, people would pick fights with you because we were so radically different."
Rather than waiting for a lucrative major label contract, The Damned partnered with Stiff Records.
"We weren't waiting around like Malcolm McLaren for a big money record deal, that’s why we were first."
Listening to him, you realise The Damned didn't simply join the punk movement, they helped create the conditions for it to exist.
When conversation turns to punk's legacy, Captain refuses to define it.
"Who's to say what punk is? Everyone's got a different opinion."
Growing up in class-divided Britain left limited options.
"The careers advice I got at school was join the army or sweep up in a factory."
He actually did factory work.
He also cleaned toilets.
"I was trying to save myself."
Then comes the philosophy that still feels as relevant in 2026 as it did in 1976.
"Don't watch overpaid superstars playing guitar when you can do it yourself."
It's impossible not to hear punk's original mission statement buried inside that sentence.
When I ask about his biggest musical influence, his answer surprises nobody who knows Captain's adventurous side.
Pink Floyd, specifically the psychedelic brilliance of Syd Barrett.
"He was playing guitar with a lighter, making all these strange noises and writing these trippy space tunes."
Even today, Captain marvels at Barrett's ability to squeeze cosmic experimentation into songs lasting barely two-and-a-half minutes.
Of all the songs he's written, I ask which makes him proudest.
Rather than choosing a classic, he points to 2008 Damned material like Dark Asteroid and Danger To Yourself, a wonderfully satirical song about wealthy adventurers requiring rescue after ill-fated Arctic expeditions.
Then we reach one of popular music's greatest left turns.
How exactly did a Rodgers and Hammerstein tune from South Pacific become a UK Number One single?
Captain tells the story beautifully.
Signed to A&M Records with a collection of Damned leftovers, he was one song short of an album.
Producer Tony Mansfield suggested recording a cover song, but challenged him to set aside the obvious classics he'd initially brought in, tracks like See Emily Play and Waterloo Sunset, and instead delve into his parents' record collection in search of something less expected.
Out came the South Pacific soundtrack.
"We were all laughing while Happy Talk was playing," Captain recalls.
Tony simply said, "This is the one."
The rest became British pop history.
The unlikely cover raced to Number One, sending Captain Sensible onto Top of the Pops and into millions of living rooms.
Sometimes the strangest ideas really are the best ones.
Touring today is a very different beast from the lawless days of punk, and Captain admits one modern trend frustrates him.
Watching support bands, he'll often hear instruments that aren't actually being played.
"They're being mixed in."
The Damned, meanwhile, continue to perform completely live.
"I worry we don't sound as good as them because we're playing one hundred percent live."
Ironically, authenticity has become harder work.
Finally, I ask whether any cover versions of Damned songs have genuinely impressed him.
He happily praises Guns N' Roses for their take on New Rose, while Elvis Costello earns his approval for Neat Neat Neat.
Then, with impeccable comic timing, he adds:
"I hear Coldplay are doing one of our songs at soundcheck."
He continues.
"I'm waiting for Taylor Swift to do Mine's A Large One Landlord."
Classic Captain.
Our conversation ends almost as quickly as it began.
I thank him for his time and tell him how much I'm looking forward to finally seeing The Damned back on stage.
"Cheers! Nice one, Paul!" he beams.
After a half hour spent talking to one of punk's true originals, one thing becomes abundantly clear.
Captain Sensible may joke that he's neither a captain nor particularly sensible, but for nearly fifty years he has captained one of Britain's most fearless and influential bands with irrepressible humour, boundless enthusiasm and absolutely no intention of growing up.
Long may the chaos continue.
The Damned – The Final Damnation 50th Anniversary Tour arrives at Auckland's Powerstation on Tuesday 8 September 2026. If ever there was a band that proved punk isn't about age but attitude, this is it. Expect loud guitars, razor-sharp wit and enough glorious mayhem to remind everyone why The Damned were there at the very beginning, and why they remain just as essential nearly fifty years later.
Get your tickets here: https://www.powerstation.net.nz/shows/damned-50th-anniversary-sep-2026
