A decade of withering and weasel-like political trouble has left UK-based acts with plenty to rage about. , Contemporary and legacy acts are finding poison-tipped courage to strike out at the glaring issues around them. For some like Pulp, it is an issue they documented twenty-five years ago. Nothing changes. New acts and artists are challenging the everyday misery – from the devilish worldbuilding on Yard Act’s Where’s My Utopia? to the fearsome dissection of confidence in the face of comical embarrassment in The New Sound from Geordie Greep. Artists are voices for the people, and Black Country-based Big Special are an exceptional addition. They have their hands firmly on the cultural pulse. Postindustrial Hometown Blues is a pertinent and bold debut for Big Special who carve their niche in punk undertones.
Joe Hicklin and Callum Moloney bring on a punk and hip-hop blur. Loud and brash sounds with personable, effective tones throughout. Opening track Black Country Gothic is a mixture of groovy electronics pruned into danceable mixes and a spoken-word punch which takes a bit of getting used to. Get used to it. Get over yourself. Stellar work in this writing and the partnership between Hicklin and Moloney is the core of Postindustrial Hometown Blues. What we turn to in times of strife – the body of Christ to the toast which provides some grief to how fast the days go by – is what impedes us. Postindustrial Hometown Blues is all about finding your breaking point and pushing past it. What gets you angry is what gets you to another level of understanding.
Anything harsh-sounding flirts with comparisons to Idles or Sleaford Mods. But Big Special does what neither band can do and finds that cultural reflections from the heart of their hometown is what shapes their worldview. We are conditioned into running late, into chasing the dream of freedom which is starved of idealism year after year. Desperate Breakfast has a firm understanding of this condition. There is a black humour and an everyday brilliance to the likes of Shithouse, the hearty expletives of a band searching for their, and our, place in the world. We must question what, if anything, has changed throughout the last few years. It is the only way we can figure out where to rest our rage. This Here Ain’t Water is a masterstroke for this feeling. Hicklin has an intense vocal presence and the instrumental backing he receives throughout this album is crucial.
Vivid imagery and solid tonal draws are the core of Postindustrial Hometown Blues. It does not take long for Big Special to find a sound which suits them – and their commitment to it on the likes of Ill is remarkable. What we perceive as glorious and life-affirming is every day and of little, if any interest, to another. Such is the outlook which separates those who connect with the world around them, pushing for change and those who find themselves rolling with what they perceive as neutral punches. But Postindustrial Hometown Blues points to the dog turd of life – the tender embrace of a “happenstance” failure being something you can avoid if you just drag yourself away from the mundane.
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