Olleys’ Live Returns with an Election Special from STEAMhouse

Filmed at STEAMhouse, Olleys’ Live returns with a candid election special as Khalid Mahmood and Ewan Mackey speak more freely beyond party lines.

Olleys’ Live

There is something that happens to politicians once they step away from office. The edge softens, the reflex to defend every position falls away, and what you are left with is something far more revealing, reflection without the armour. That was very much the tone as we filmed the opening episode of Series 3 of Olleys’ Live, an election special arriving at a moment when Birmingham politics feels once again finely balanced.

This time the setting mattered more than usual, because it said something about the city before a word had been spoken. We filmed at STEAMhouse at Birmingham City University, not a studio, not a conventional venue, but a space built around ideas, enterprise, and the practical business of making things happen. It sits within the bones of Birmingham’s industrial past while pointing firmly toward its future, a place where engineering, digital, creative work and commercial thinking meet under one roof.

That is not incidental. Birmingham has always been at its best when it builds, adapts and invents. STEAMhouse captures that instinct. It is a reminder that the city’s story is not just political, it is industrial, educational and deeply practical. A fitting backdrop, then, for a conversation about where Birmingham goes next.

Joining us were Khalid Mahmood and Ewan Mackey, two figures who have seen the city’s politics from the inside over many years. There was, quietly, a shared thread between us. All three of us have served as councillors on Birmingham City Council, and all three left voluntarily. That detail matters. It changes the nature of the conversation. It allows space for reflection without the immediate pressure of party management or personal advancement.

And it showed.

What followed was not a dismantling of party politics. There was still loyalty, still respect for the institutions that shape public life. But there was also a noticeable shift in tone, a willingness to acknowledge where things have not worked, where positions have become difficult to defend, and where political messaging has drifted away from political reality.

There is a reason for that, and it is rarely discussed openly. While in office, politicians operate within a framework that limits candour. Reselection, internal alliances, the quiet but constant presence of the whip, all shape what can be said and how it can be said. Step outside that framework, and something changes. The need to hold a line weakens, and in its place comes a more grounded assessment of events.

Ewan reflected on his decision not to stand again in what he described, with quiet certainty, as a very safe seat. He had told me before the election that his successor would hold it comfortably. As events proved, he was exactly right. That kind of clarity tends to come when you are no longer immersed in the day to day mechanics of political life, when you can see patterns rather than just moments.

Khalid brought a perspective shaped by both local government and Parliament. There was a candour in his reflections, particularly around the pressures placed on individuals within party structures. Not expressed as complaint, nor as disloyalty, but as an honest account of how the system operates in practice.

That is where the conversation lifted beyond the usual.

Because what emerged was not just a discussion about parties or personalities, but something more revealing about politics itself. The gap between public messaging and private understanding. The tension between loyalty and reality. The quiet recognition that governing a city like Birmingham is harder, and more complex, than slogans allow.

Olleys’ Live is filmed as live. No stitched edits, no retrospective shaping of the narrative. What you see is what happened, conversation as it unfolds, with its natural pauses, its shifts and its moments of clarity. Lorraine and I present together, which brings its own balance. There is a rhythm to it, a sense that the discussion can move freely while still holding its centre.

Framed as an election special, the conversation inevitably turned to the direction of the city. Birmingham is not short of political drama, but beneath that surface lie more serious questions. About leadership, about credibility, about whether the city can find a stable direction after a prolonged period of turbulence.

What was striking was not disagreement, but recognition. A shared understanding that Birmingham stands at something of an inflection point. That the next phase will require more than positioning or party advantage. It will require competence, honesty and a willingness to confront difficult realities.

There is a phrase that lingered from the evening. Peaky truths. Not the stylised mythology, but the stripping back of narrative to reality. Birmingham has always been at its most compelling when it does that, when it tells the truth about itself plainly and without embellishment.

Once filming ended, that sense of openness did not stop. Conversations carried on, people drifted over, points were picked up and explored further. That does not happen in a sealed studio. It happens when the programme is placed within the life of the city rather than removed from it. STEAMhouse, with its energy and purpose, made that possible.

Broadcast on Birmingham TV, Channel 7, Olleys’ Live continues to reach a strong and growing audience across the city and beyond. But the real measure is not the numbers. It is the quality of the conversation, and the space created for it to happen honestly.

At MidlandsGRIT, the same principle holds. The real story is rarely found in the headline. It sits in how people speak when the pressure lifts, how they reflect on what they have done, and what they might do differently.

If you want to understand Birmingham properly, you listen carefully when the noise fades and the conversation becomes real.

Olleys’ Live.

Live for a reason.