They had waited a long time for their two-tone heroes, 26 years according to the band, and finally the wait was over for the seemingly large number of Sydney fans of The Specials. Doc Martens, pork pie hats, suspenders, sideburns and well-cut slacks were on proud display as the faithful revisited their youth with the intention of celebrating a unique band.
There was no support act, just local DJ’s and someone from The Specials camp who rolled out classic reggae and soul tunes like’ Geno’ from Dexy’s Midnight Runners and just before the main event began they dropped the massive ’54 46 Was My Number’ from Toots And The Maytals.
As the house lights dimmed a sheer sheet hung in front of the band while lights picked out exaggerated silhouettes of the band swaying and skanking. It was the final touch of anticipation-building before the fabric fell to reveal The Specials in all their glory with a towering backdrop of their black and white logo.
Always remembered for their snappy dress sense as well as their music, tonight they cut fine figures in suits, Fred Perry shirts and debonair head gear. From the outset the key elements of The Specials were present and accounted for. Out front Neville Staples bounced and grooved his way across the front of the stage as singer and MC while on the opposite side Lynval Golding dipped and grinned on guitar. His foil was the tougher edged Roddy Byers, still with his spiked quiff and English youth ears. Contrasting all the movement and energetic personalities was Terry Hall. Looking befuddled and aloof he never once broke into dance but rather shuffled around, at times nodding his head with a wry smile.
The rhythm section impressed with Horace Panter’s bass varying from low end rumbles to nimble funk runs. John Bradbury sat high at the back of the stage, directing the band and locking down one of the tightest drumkits to grace the Enmore stage. On songs like ‘Too Much Too Young’ and ‘Gangsters’ they had the ska beat locked down with crystal precision and the crowd responded in a joyous knees up.
The two biggest hits that The Specials had were probably ‘Ghost Town’ and ‘Rudi, A Message To You’. Both were brilliant live and being two of their more laid back songs it really showed how important their use of melody was and that the darker side to their music was revered both then and now. ‘Rudi…’ was slow and sexy and Golding dedicated it to all the Rude Boys and Rude Girls in the house. ‘Ghost Town’ was the highlight of the night, even though Hall’s vocals were more ghoulish than ghostly early on. When, mid song, the layers were stripped back to a dub skeleton, the trombone solo that rang out was haunting and majestic, totally brilliant.
Byers stepped up to the mic for ‘Concrete Jungle’ and highlighted the diversity of the band’s sound with the song’s punkier overtones. Elsewhere they showed hints of dub, calypso, show tunes and pop – all part of what made the band so special in its heyday.
In the haze of intervening years some may have forgotten how many great songs The Specials had, a fact highlighted by the likes of ‘Doesn’t Make It Alright’, ‘Do Nothing’, ‘Friday Night, Saturday Morning’ and ‘Blank Expression’.
Perhaps a little too predictably the show ended on a party vibe with crowd interaction and the big finale. But it worked and they showed that after all this time, and even with the glaring omission of songwriter and keyboardist Jerry Dammers from the reunion, they can still deliver a storming live show and not mess with the legacy of The Specials.


