There really is something special about The Specials. To me at least. There’s no sound more nostalgic. Every time I hear them I’m brought right back there in a way no other music does.
On the edge of your teens, exciting times, a wannabe rebel, walking the streets, a gaggle of you, trying to look tougher than you are, school nothing more than an inconvenience, somewhere else to fly your flag, your school bag a blank canvas for two tone insignia, your big black marker a prized possession to mark your territory anywhere you can. Your uniform; a challenge, make it your own, skinny the tie; turn the trousers up tight, shine the Docs; Rudeboy?
Nah, no Rudeboy; skinny little white boy with fears of the world – but you hear that music now and you’re right back there, ready for it all. There’s girl’s to be fought over, lessons to be learned, teenage memories to be etched on your brain forever. Dance around the fire. Pass the flagon. Put you arms on my shoulders, and sing the song, a song that will bring you right back there twenty years later and still burn a fire in your belly.