Horace Panter on life with The Specials

Horace Panter's had a rough day. "I've been round IKEA this morning and survived - just about," he laughs.

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Supporting image for story: Horace Panter on life with The Specials

He's a white van man, teacher and a star of one of Britain's best-loved bands. Horace Panter tells Keith Harrison all about success the second time around

Horace Panter's had a rough day. "I've been round IKEA this morning and survived - just about," he laughs.

"Still you can't knock it; I once fitted out my entire house from that big one at Wednesbury for about £100 and then had reindeer in the cafe!"

Not exactly the rock'n'roll lifestyle you may expect from the bass player of one of Britain's most celebrated groups.

But then, The Specials were never your ordinary rock'n'roll band.

A sublime mix of reggae and ska, blended with the energy of punk, caustic lyrics and the deadpan delivery of teenage singer Terry Hall, they lit up the music scene in the late 1970s before imploding in 1981 after a disastrously gruelling tour of America.

"I think the fact that we split at the height of our popularity actually helped us in the long run," says Horace, "There was no dwindling of our success. We just stopped and were frozen in time."

Two years ago, after on-off collaborations between members, the band reformed and tentatively booked medium-sized venues for a comeback tour.

The response from fans verged on the hysterical, with tickets changing hands for hundreds of pounds outside venues.

Critics raved, awards flowed and the band proved more popular than ever.

Now as he looks forward to a world tour next year taking in arenas across Europe — and two nights at Wolverhampton Civic Hall — Horace admits to having to pinch himself.

"I feel like I've won the lottery twice," he smiles, "From when I was 12, I wanted to be a pop star.

"Then at 25 I was one and suddenly it all ended. Now I'm back and doing it all over again, it's just incredible."

For Panter, now 57, life took some strange turns after the band split up.

After working as a T-shirt printer at his wife's clothing store in Coventry, he joined General Public, an off-shoot from The Beat, featuring Ranking Roger and Dave Wakeling.

Despite initial success in America, the band fizzled out in the mid 1980s and for a while Horace became a 'white van man' making deliveries all over the West Midlands.

"I really liked it," he says, "Just me and the van, here are your drops and go. I used to go all over the Black Country so I know the area well.

"I've always liked Wolverhampton. I remember we played the Polytechnic there in the 1970s. We were supposed to be playing the Lafayette, but Sham 69 had been in the week before and the place got smashed up.

"And I remember playing the Civic on the 2 Tone tour with Madness in the late 1970s. It's funny, because when we went back last year, it was one of the few venues I recognised. Great place though, really good atmosphere."

So good in fact that the band chose to record their Wolverhampton shows last year for a live DVD.

"They were great nights," says Horace, "It's a proper music venue and seemed just right for recording."

But if the Civic hasn't changed much down the years, the musical landscape certainly has.

"I'd hate to be 25 and in a band now," admits Horace, "Everything is so controlled but the scene is not polarised at all.

"Don't get me started on X Factor; when we started out we got a support slot with The Clash — now THAT was a proper boot camp.

"But we were very lucky; you had Sounds, the NME, Melody Maker, Top of the Pops and the charts — when they meant something.

"Now, no-one seems to buy records anymore and music seems to have lost some of its importance. "There are just so many other things for people to do these days.

"In the 1970s people were either mods, rockers, teds, heavies, whatever and people identified with their musical culture, the way they dressed, the way they were.

"That doesn't happen anymore."

By several strange quirks of fate, the affable star was working as an art teacher at a special needs school in Coventry when the call came for The Specials reunion.

"It was an exciting time," he recalls, "Lynval Golding (rhythm guitarist) was the prime mover. He'd done a show with Lily Allen in Seattle, then he and Terry played with her at Glastonbury and things just snowballed from there.

"I really miss working with the schoolkids, but at the parents' evenings I was always being asked 'when are the band going to get back together?' Which was nice — it showed there was still great affection for us."

Only his fellow founder member Jerry Dammers refused to join the comeback, despite taking part in early discussions, and Horace says: "It's sad, cos he's a mate of mine from way, way back. But I think he just saw things differently from the rest of us."

So with only two, albeit classic, albums to choose from will there be any new material in 2011?

"I don't think so," he admits.

"The songs have really stood the test of time well. There are so many people at the shows who clearly weren't even born when we released them, but they've kept a resonance through the generations.

"I think if I was in my 20s and someone asked me to listen to music from 30 years ago, I would have told them to stick it.

"But people are more open now, so the songs are still fresh.

"They've come to hear the hits — and we'll keep giving the public what they want.

"Let's face it," he adds with a chuckle, "That doesn't happen very often, does it?"

* The Specials play the Civic Hall on October 11 and 12 next year. Tickets priced £35 are available from 0870 320 7000 or www.wolvescivic.co.uk