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More Specials
But The Specials have unfinished business. Bowing out with a No. 1 single on the happy, happy sound of the Big 1FM, all about, um, recession and unemployment, and then just as genuine subversion of the mainstream music industry threatened, the parting of the waves took place. Smiling Terry went all pop, and Jerry Dammers went back in the studio for another three years. The moment was lost, the world moved on and we were left with knobbers like Nik Kershaw.
At their irresistible peak, The Specials meant something. Overlooking the debt that everyone from Rancid to The Streets owes to them (that's quite a cultural leap of faith, by the way,) The Specials had the political edge over the pantomime pop of Madness. The message of the 2Tone man couldn't have been more symbolic - they didn't press up the logo on the labels in black and white to save on colour printing, y'know.
But now the moment is back. Britain is back in recession, unemployment topped the 2m mark today and mainstream media is once again looking at our friends from other lands to lay the blame at for our current woes. Perfect excuse for a five-night bender in Brixton, moonstomping with a revival from the original revivalists.
I've waited thirty years for this gig, never quite believing that Terry Hall would ever return to his 2Tone roots. The official reason is to celebrate thirty years since the release of *that* first album. But with five sold out nights at The Academy, and tickets at £35 a pop, money and merchandising must have been a factor as well.
Money talks, and so does Jerry Dammers:
'I founded The Specials, and now they've excluded me,' said the man who also founded 2Tone records.
Rumour is rife as to the reason for Dammers not being part of the reunion: the classic 'musical differences,' seems plausible, with Dammers wanting to re-interrupt the songs with a contemporary arrangement, whereas the Rude Boys in the band just want a bit of Brixton skanking. Dammers has been seen more behind the DJ decks than his keyboard over the past two decades - can he still cut it?
No worries. The absence of one seventh of The Specials was a minor gripe. Plus I saw Dammers last month on the same Brixton stage as Rico. So that just about Makes It Alright, then.
And so Brixton bound, early evening on Monday, and it really did feel like I was setting off for a Friday night of skinhead moonstomping at the village youth club, thirty years previous.
The Canterbury was buzzing, even before the doors at The Academy opened. A five-night run has been kind to everyone's favourite backstreet Brixton boozer. The enterprising Seamus even booked in a ska DJ for the backroom. I don't think it was local boy Jerry Dammers (although Roddy Radiation was in the building, looking resplendent in his rockabilly meets ska uptown natty dress sense.)
Remember the old joke: 'What's the definition of beans on toast?'
The updated version is 'looking down from the stalls at Brixton Academy'. I've never seen so many old school skins in one place.
But first things first: choose your gig-going immediate radar Rude Boys and Girls wisely. I ended up being sandwiched between an old school skin, sweating away as though he had a power shower installed in his forehead, and a mad hair girl who kept on shaking her mane in my face. Sweaty ska boy kept me moisturised; mad hair girl mopped it all up. Everyone's happy.
The Specials were always a highly charged band, transferring all their onstage energy over to the audience. Come curtain call on Monday night (Monday night FFS!) and the anticipation building up around Brixton Academy became physical. Sweat was flowing before the band came on stage.
And that was just the Rude Girls.
Yet another ska DJ warm up act, and the crowd were heated up nicely. All the old Jamaican classics were given a spin, plus a stray playing of Geno, which just about worked.
And then the band opened with the reprise of Enjoy Yourself, silhouetted behind a curtain. You've waited thirty years, you can wait thirty seconds more.
The curtain then descends, and you're right in there with Do the Dog:
'All you punks and all you teds
National Front and natty dreads
Mods, rockers, hippies and skinheads
Keep on fighting 'til you're dead.'
Welcome back, boys.
Everyone has aged, on and off stage. Smiling Terry still doesn't smile, but then that was always his appeal. You know all the songs - first album start to finish, More Specials minus Dammers (although there was a doppelganger on keyboards) plus a few maverick B-sides thrown in (Friday Night and Saturday Morning - blimey!)
Man at C&A was equally disturbing as it was danceable. Nite Klub had the Academy shouting out 'slags' and 'piss' in unison. Too Much Too Young was just mental.
An hour and a half of ska 'n sweat (Toooo HOT! in there. Bloody hot) later and that was yer lot. We finished off with the Skinhead Symphony of Longshot / Liquidator / Moonstomp, and then it was back to where we started with Enjoy Yourself closing the set.
And so what next for The Specials? More gigs, but hopefully not an album of 'exciting and new material.' You can re-enact, but you can't re-capture what you once had. Smiling Terry will probably get bored before the summer is out. Expect that Fun Boy Three reunion tour in two years time.
'Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think
Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink
The years go by, as quickly as you wink
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself
It's later than you think.'
reply via twitter
| Tuesday 12 May, 2009 |
But The Specials have unfinished business. Bowing out with a No. 1 single on the happy, happy sound of the Big 1FM, all about, um, recession and unemployment, and then just as genuine subversion of the mainstream music industry threatened, the parting of the waves took place. Smiling Terry went all pop, and Jerry Dammers went back in the studio for another three years. The moment was lost, the world moved on and we were left with knobbers like Nik Kershaw.
At their irresistible peak, The Specials meant something. Overlooking the debt that everyone from Rancid to The Streets owes to them (that's quite a cultural leap of faith, by the way,) The Specials had the political edge over the pantomime pop of Madness. The message of the 2Tone man couldn't have been more symbolic - they didn't press up the logo on the labels in black and white to save on colour printing, y'know.
But now the moment is back. Britain is back in recession, unemployment topped the 2m mark today and mainstream media is once again looking at our friends from other lands to lay the blame at for our current woes. Perfect excuse for a five-night bender in Brixton, moonstomping with a revival from the original revivalists.
I've waited thirty years for this gig, never quite believing that Terry Hall would ever return to his 2Tone roots. The official reason is to celebrate thirty years since the release of *that* first album. But with five sold out nights at The Academy, and tickets at £35 a pop, money and merchandising must have been a factor as well.
Money talks, and so does Jerry Dammers:
'I founded The Specials, and now they've excluded me,' said the man who also founded 2Tone records.
Rumour is rife as to the reason for Dammers not being part of the reunion: the classic 'musical differences,' seems plausible, with Dammers wanting to re-interrupt the songs with a contemporary arrangement, whereas the Rude Boys in the band just want a bit of Brixton skanking. Dammers has been seen more behind the DJ decks than his keyboard over the past two decades - can he still cut it?
No worries. The absence of one seventh of The Specials was a minor gripe. Plus I saw Dammers last month on the same Brixton stage as Rico. So that just about Makes It Alright, then.
And so Brixton bound, early evening on Monday, and it really did feel like I was setting off for a Friday night of skinhead moonstomping at the village youth club, thirty years previous.
The Canterbury was buzzing, even before the doors at The Academy opened. A five-night run has been kind to everyone's favourite backstreet Brixton boozer. The enterprising Seamus even booked in a ska DJ for the backroom. I don't think it was local boy Jerry Dammers (although Roddy Radiation was in the building, looking resplendent in his rockabilly meets ska uptown natty dress sense.)
Remember the old joke: 'What's the definition of beans on toast?'
The updated version is 'looking down from the stalls at Brixton Academy'. I've never seen so many old school skins in one place.
But first things first: choose your gig-going immediate radar Rude Boys and Girls wisely. I ended up being sandwiched between an old school skin, sweating away as though he had a power shower installed in his forehead, and a mad hair girl who kept on shaking her mane in my face. Sweaty ska boy kept me moisturised; mad hair girl mopped it all up. Everyone's happy.
The Specials were always a highly charged band, transferring all their onstage energy over to the audience. Come curtain call on Monday night (Monday night FFS!) and the anticipation building up around Brixton Academy became physical. Sweat was flowing before the band came on stage.
And that was just the Rude Girls.
Yet another ska DJ warm up act, and the crowd were heated up nicely. All the old Jamaican classics were given a spin, plus a stray playing of Geno, which just about worked.
And then the band opened with the reprise of Enjoy Yourself, silhouetted behind a curtain. You've waited thirty years, you can wait thirty seconds more.
The curtain then descends, and you're right in there with Do the Dog:
'All you punks and all you teds
National Front and natty dreads
Mods, rockers, hippies and skinheads
Keep on fighting 'til you're dead.'
Welcome back, boys.
Everyone has aged, on and off stage. Smiling Terry still doesn't smile, but then that was always his appeal. You know all the songs - first album start to finish, More Specials minus Dammers (although there was a doppelganger on keyboards) plus a few maverick B-sides thrown in (Friday Night and Saturday Morning - blimey!)
Man at C&A was equally disturbing as it was danceable. Nite Klub had the Academy shouting out 'slags' and 'piss' in unison. Too Much Too Young was just mental.
An hour and a half of ska 'n sweat (Toooo HOT! in there. Bloody hot) later and that was yer lot. We finished off with the Skinhead Symphony of Longshot / Liquidator / Moonstomp, and then it was back to where we started with Enjoy Yourself closing the set.
And so what next for The Specials? More gigs, but hopefully not an album of 'exciting and new material.' You can re-enact, but you can't re-capture what you once had. Smiling Terry will probably get bored before the summer is out. Expect that Fun Boy Three reunion tour in two years time.
'Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think
Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink
The years go by, as quickly as you wink
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself
It's later than you think.'
reply via twitter
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