There is a remarkable confidence to the record that you wouldn’t usually expect from a debut, which is a testament to Costello’s immense musical capabilities.
There’s a mindlessness to the instrumentation, lyricism, and vocals that is devoid of surprises. The 32-minute runtime blasts by as a blur of repetitive noise.
There is plenty of anger in the album, but it is used constructively. At a time when much music was obsessed with rejection, The Specials gave affirmation.
Who would be mad enough to single-handedly rank Bob Dylan's 38 studio albums? Why, Charlie Clissitt of course. Two great minds for the price of one.