You see the title of this record? It’s called The Rotter’s Club. The Rotter’s Club: that’s us Lois, isn’t it? Do you see? That’s what they used to call us, at school. Bent Rotter, and Lowest Rotter. We’re The Rotter’s Club. You and me, Not Paul. Just you and me.”

Jonathan Coe’s The Rotter’s Club takes us back to 1970s Birmingham. Beginning in 1973 it takes in the Heath, Wilson and Callaghan governments before ending with the day of Thatcher’s election and the start of the long 80s. Being from the West Midlands reading this novel felt familiar and important as it catalogued the industrial power hub in its final days. From my father’s generation nearly every man you meet from the West Midlands will have worked at some point in one of the many car factories and at secondary school our tutor groups were named after car manufacturers that used to use Coventry as their base: Alvis, Humber, Triumph … It is difficult to exaggerate how important this industry was and how the impact of its demise is still being felt. This coming of age story is deeply funny and irreverent throughout. The lives of the adults in particular are convoluted at best but their effect is perhaps best felt through their children who take us with them on their riotous journey to the end of adolescence.