Live Review: The Specials, The Breadmakers

The last night of Zoo Twilights marks the end of a superb summer series of concerts under the stars. Pre-show, a virtual army of young ladies in The Specials T-shirts happily snap selfies with the animals. Tonight the crowd is in the mood to party and plenty armed with picnic hampers vie for prime real estate in front of the stage. Melbourne's The Breadmakers bear no resemblance to the kitchen appliances from which they take their name. These dudes ply us with gritty old school rock and R&B with a garage twist. Served with a little Southern hospitality, they specialise in dealing covers of fairly obscure tunes that date back to the '50s and '60s. They have been doing this for years so it's nice to see that they can bring the party while barely breaking into a sweat. From a distance it kind of sounds a little like the tunes that the castaways on Gilligan's Island would tune into while we have a delightful conversation with a charming young zookeeper who is concerned about the foxes that prowl at night looking to make a meal out of tasty fairy penguins. Meanwhile, back in the front row, The Breadmakers simply rock the crowd's socks off.

Usually these Zoo gigs are a laid-back affair on a picnic blanket, but thankfully everyone here this evening knows that this won't wash. In anticipation of The Specials' set, blankets and hampers are dutifully packed away as the crowd comes to its feet and pushes forward to be as close to the stage as possible. Back-in-the-day rude boys, now they look like a pack of silver-haired wolves in search of a good time that will allow them to relive the good old days, which were the turbulent late '70s and recession of the early '80s. Terry Hall looks terminally depressed. He could be on the end of the longest dole queue in the world. "I hate people," he says despite the party happening around him. His delivery is as manic as it is effortless and completely makes Ghost Town as haunting as it's ever been. Washes of violin and cello drift through the arrangement while blasts of trumpet and trombone add punctuation. It's not long before The Specials simply blow up in front of our eyes, dealing the kind of music that has made fans want to dance for almost 40 years. These are the first run of shows The Specials have played since the passing of drummer John Bradbury in late 2015. They have recruited The Libertines drummer Gary Powell who belts the skins in fine style. The only remaining original players in tonight's line-up are guitarist Lynval Golding and bassist Horace Panter who are both clearly up for a wild time. Many of Hall's lyrics on cuts like Rat Race, Friday Night, Saturday Morning and Blank Expression bring to mind the bleak recession of the early '80s and the post-punk reaction to nine-to-five.

What made The Specials stand out from the pack is that they brought politics and a certain darkness to the riotous sounds of ska and reggae, unafraid to sharpen the mix with snarly punk and mod edges. Over 90 minutes, they drop a stellar array of classic hits that take our breath away. It's Guns Of Navarone that has the lads pogoing and fiercely pushing their way to the front. A Message To You Rudy could be a message to Trump who ensures that The Specials' politics remains as relevant as ever.