Upon A Mouse #7: Two Specials Clash

The Clash and The Specials open this week's trio of contenders for The 20 Greatest Eponymous Albums Of All Time, as definitively counted down last month at No Badger Required.

No question that both are amongst the most important bands of my lifetime, respectively producing some the most incredible music of the 1970s and 1980s, inspiring and influencing countless other artists that have followed. 

Both made the final 10 in the NBR Top 20. Neither did on my voting slip, coming in at #13 and #14 respectively. How come?

Well, to be honest I listen more often to London Calling and Combat Rock than The Clash’s first album, probably Sandinista! too, though not Give ‘Em Enough Rope and certainly not Cut The Crap.

So, does that mean it’s either my third or fourth favourite Clash album? Hmmm....

The doubts start kicking in as soon as Janie Jones opens the album...

…and The Clash contains their superlative cover of Junior Murvin’s Police & Thieves...

...and it’s a great album, by anyone else’s standards. 

It's just not the greatest album by The Clash.

 

 

I was still at primary school when 2-Tone hit it's stride. I ended up sticking with Madness and never going quite so deep with The Specials, making the leap (frog) to secondary school with Fun Boy Three aka Terry Hall, Neville Staple and Lynval Golding.

The first - only - record of theirs that I bought as a teen was Nelson Mandela by The Special AKA in 1984. Jerry Dammers and John Bradbury aside, it was essentially a different band, to the best of my knowledge only Dick Cuthell also appearing on The Specials' debut album.

At the start of the 21st century, I bought Stereo-Typical, the definitive 3CD singles A’s & B’s collection, but somehow I never got around to The Specials' albums.

To my shame, it was The Vinyl Villain, and JC’s companion to my Terry Hall Imaginary Compilation Album in February 2021 that first introduced me to the sublime version of Too Much Too Young from The Specials’ eponymous debut that gave me the kick up the arse to track down and listen to the album in full. 

Opening with a superb cover of Dandy Livingstone's 1967 classic A Message To You Rudy (not that I knew that it was a cover when I first heard it, age 8), the mix of versions and originals only highlighted how strong The Specials' own writing was: Nite Klub, Concrete Jungle, (Dawning Of A) New Era. 

As an album title, Specials not only states the name of the band, but also the quality of the songs within. 

Less than two years later after my and JC's compilations, and my first proper listen to The Specials' incredible first album, Terry Hall was gone. The impact of this album has gone deeper and deeper with every listen. 

 

 

 

For today's tenuous topper photo, we move from 11 angry men (The Clash and The Specials' combined headcount) to 12 Angry Men, the 1957 film directed by Sidney Lumet and starring Henry Fonda. I 'recorded' it a while back when it was screened on Turner Classic Movies and really should get around to watching it again.