The Specials @ The BIC
In a neck and neck tie with The Jam, The Specials were my favourite band in 1979/80, and their debut album remains in my top five of all time. As a 13/14 year old you’re looking for idols, for cult figures, for inspiration, and The Specials ticked all those boxes brilliantly. I never saw them live, but such was the emotional attachment that bonded the band with their fans (an attachment which typified those times), that lack of a live experience made no difference to how I felt. Their music was energetic and passionate; it spat out attitude with ferocity. I believed in, and loved The Specials.
More than thirty years after they last played Bournemouth (oh, how I’d have loved to have gone to the tiny Stateside Club in ’79), and here they were, back again at the BIC. Now, thanks to a lovely friend I had the opportunity to go – a no-brainer you might think – but I’ve been bitten before with the ‘come-back tour’ gig. The Who were a massive let down when I saw them in the early ‘90s, hardly spoiling their legacy, but ever since I’ve always been wary of watching bands live, decades after being in their prime. Obviously, this gig could never capture the raw emotion and passion created by a Specials gig in ’79; the band was singing about what was happening at the time, politically and socially. ‘78s ‘winter of discontent’ preceded Thatcher’s appointment, racial tension was rife and unemployment was escalating rapidly. There was a lot to be said, and like a Pistols gig in ’77, a Specials gig in ’79 would’ve been unmissable.
Looking around tonight’s vast crowd pre-gig it was like ’79 all over again, except the skinheads by choice then, are skinheads by defect now. Braces are still being worn, but for the use originally intended. My age is the average age. There’s a huge buzz of expectation. So, a Specials gig in 2011… Any good? Fuck yes! Racism still exists, unnecessary wars surround us, politicians are still hoodwinking the public and we’re experiencing a double-dip recession and social depression. And The Specials are still as believable, passionate and relevant as they were over thirty years ago. I found myself singing along to almost every song thinking “shit… this stuff is still happening”, still believing in it, and still loving The Specials. The band entered to a huge backdrop of social imagery, provoking a mix of boos and cheers from the 6000 in the BIC. Then they launched into ‘Gangsters’ and the place erupted.
They played everything from debut album Specials, all bar a couple from follow up More Specials, and their singles and musically it was spot on. For me, The Specials were the 2-Tone band, they introduced me to ska and bluebeat, to Trojan and way beyond, and if they couldn’t quite look like they did (still natty none the less), or have the same on stage energy, I itched for an authentic sound. Apart from Jerry Dammers on keys, this was the original Specials line-up. Terry Hall hasn’t changed. He still plays the straight-faced misery naturally, but you knew deep down he was enjoying himself, even managing some dry one-liners and playful pleas to his band to do some Wham. He’s still Terry Hall and he’s still believable. Neville Staple, Roddy Bryers, Horace Panter, John Bradbury and the enigmatic Lynval Golding were joined by Nick Torp on keys and a superb three-piece brass section, and midway through the set as the backdrop changed for ‘International Jet Set’, a three-piece string section. And they sounded bloody sweet. They sounded 1979.
A wonderful journey down memory lane lasted well over ninety minutes, brushing shoulders with a sea of Fred Perrys and Harringtons, desert boots and DMs, emotional faces singing, happy feet skanking. One encore, then another – ‘Little Bitch’ followed (obviously) by ‘You’re Wondering Now’ and they were done – they played everything I wanted to hear and unlike The Who many years earlier only enhanced my emotional attachment to the band. If you were a Specials schoolboy/girl fan in ’79 and aren’t sure whether to see them live now – GO. Of course it helps if a lovely friend buys you a ticket…














