Hailing from another once great British industrial city, Coventry, they may have been muso types but soft boys they were not, perpared to wear their righteous hearts on their sleeves in front of many a crowd full of Oi Skins, NF members and other brainless racist thug fucktards . . . . behind the visual side of things was a compliment of talent that gelled cohesively in each others company, Jerry Dammers, Lynval Golding, Terry Hall, Roddy Radiation, Rico and Neville Staple et al moved quickly from the regionally known 'Coventry Automatics' to the nationally famous The Specials AKA . . . .
Their future was assured after The Clash, famously anti racist themselves, asked the lads to play at the Rock Against Racism gigs to monster crowds, they were the talk of the town and they were talking to the town, as London was without question the epicentre of the new musical world at the time . . . . taking the piss out of the previously mentioned hate mobs, the government, bouncers and night club life and highlighting the realities of mass unemployment, police brutality and always championing the music as being for enjoyment not aggression . . . . imagine that, enjoying the gig and not wanting to go the biff, WTF ???
Unfortunately by about 1982/83 it was pretty much all over for the boys in the Specials, they went out with a dark and gloomily apt tune called 'Ghost Town' that really encapsulated the depressed state of the British economy at the time . . . . in their wake was another song that would be responsible for the continued awareness of Nelson Mandela's unjust incarceration and would ultimately lead to such international political pressure he was eventually freed by the then South African government . . . . perhaps only Dylan's tale of Reuben 'Hurricane' Carter can lay claim to such a lofty result.
As Aretha Franklin said a long time ago . . . . RESPECT !!!! Special . . . . fuck yeah !!!!