Thanks to previous releases there is no denying the grin which natural materialises when approached by a new encounter with Scottish outfit The Hector Collectors. As proven by their acclaimed previous album of 2018, it is a smile which more than lingers across their releases and was possibly at its widest yet whilst we romped with Do the ‘Ad Hominem’ with the Hector Collectors!, the quartet’s new EP.
Since dropping their first slice of mischief, debut album Straight Outta Comprehensive (Fully Comprehensive Edition) back in 2001, The Hector Collectors has stood as one of music’s more boldly unique propositions. Certainly it has been easy to offer up bands such as Television Personalities, The Freshies, and Half Man Half Biscuit as hints to their sound but across all their offerings and as their previous full-length, Remember the Hector Collectors? ..You Won’t Believe What They Sound Like Now!!!!!, established they weave a creative rascality that stands aside of the rest.
We do not know for sure but presumably still embracing the line-up of vocalist A.J. Smith, guitarist I.D. Smith, bassist Joseph Greatorex, and drummer Gavin Dunbar, The Hector Collectors open up their latest devilment with The Ad Hominem 2020. It is a track which featured on that last album but has been given a work over for this year and quickly gets down to business with its unapologetically catchy pop ‘n’ roll. It is one of those sing-a-longs which is just as persuasive in sound as it is in vocals, every essence encouragement to lose inhibitions and dance with body and voice.
It is a great start to the EP, one impossible to resist leaping on board with though, for us, is soon and persistently slightly outshone by those to follow starting with Podcast. The second track like all have a definite eighties spicing which reminds of one of Scotland’s musical heydays. There is a whiff of early Orange Juice meets Josef K to the indie pop shenanigans and another chorus which just seduces eager participation.
The App Did Everything For Me is next up and similarly instantly unleashes a virulently catchy swing through bass and guitar which provides puppet strings to movement. A.J.’s vocals are just as manipulative, the cheek of his lyrics as beaming as the song’s melodic whimsy with its Pastels-esque tint while next up Publicly Shamed manages to be even more contagious in its own swing and vocal incitement. With rhythms boisterously rolling and a Johnny Cash country folk simmered lilt to its boisterous stroll, the song quickly burrowed under the skin to be another commanding limb and vocal chords.
Remember When Twitter Was Really Spiffing? brings things to a close, the track proving our favourite of the five with its seaside carousel sashay. Casting social media observation into its eager bound as rhythms energetically prowl and vintage keys ‘chatter’, the track is superb and an irresistible, fun bursting end to another just as tantalising and thoroughly enjoyable outing with The Hector Collectors.
We all need to spring a smile or two upon our lives and The Hector Collectors provide plenty of reasons to as well as songs which relish a creative will and instinct which as we said is rather unique and proving persistently welcome.
Do the ‘Ad Hominem’ with the Hector Collectors! is out now as a name your price download; available @ https://thehectorcollectors.bandcamp.com/album/do-the-ad-hominem-with-the-hector-collectors
https://www.facebook.com/thehectorcollectors/ https://twitter.com/hcollectorsband
Pete RingMaster 18/02/2020
Copyright RingMasterReview: MyFreeCopyright
We discovered the EP and its glorious vinyl wrapping art work after being seduced by its successor, Parry Thomas and it is the quartet of tracks making up Cups and Saucers which opens up Back In Time For Tea. The four songs revel in the punk instincts which made The Bears a well-loved proposition but more so reveal the broader post punk meets art school sound the band were developing. On Them steps up first, from its first breath the song daring the listener to jump upon its ear nagging canter for a ride of unbridled enterprise and mischief. There is something akin to bands like Television Personalities and O’ Level to the song but already and across its companions you could hear something individual brewing and across following releases standing unique to The Tea Set.
irresistible moment with The Tea Set. South Pacific is another track which just swings on the passions like a simian tease, the song a contagion of tantalising hooks and ravishing devilment getting under the skin as quick as a blink of the eye and an incitement even a bag of bones surely could not resist the urge to swing their inhibitions aside for.
It is an outstanding start to the album quickly matched by the alt rock shenanigans of The Bean Song with its animated moves and virulent hookery. Darkly hued rhythms incite and entice from the first second, guitars and vocals casting a web of temptation which effortlessly worms itself into ears and body with the inevitable involvement achieved by its monkey tricks including exploiting the equally infectious lure of The Kinks with a big grin.
The album carries the raw jangle of early Orange Juice, the pop disharmony of Josef K, and the sonic dissonance of Swell Maps whilst lyrically and vocally Finucane again embraces the inspirations of Mark E Smith and Lou Reed but all essences warped and mutated into its creator’s own imaginative and individual proposition. Vanishing Island opens up with War on Pain and immediately is baiting keen attention through a rhythmic pulsation swiftly joined by the inimitable tones of Finucane, his vocal delivery as maverick as his music. As the song expands with real catchiness to its swing infested hips, drone inspired melodies weave patterns in its sky colouring the route to the subsequent turbulence which from a simmer bubbles up and over.
It is a success soon shared across Fleam starting with the pair of Lovebombing and Dig. The first comes equipped with danger and threat as well as another dose of pure musical contagion that infests ears and instincts. Nurtured in punk ‘n’ roll ferocity and armed with a lyrical prowess which grips as effortlessly as the feral sounds surrounding it, the track simply enslaved before the second of the two sauntered in and exploded in a flame of melodic discord and eccentric invention. With a breath akin to The Nightingales in league with Television Personalities to it, the track burrowed under the skin laying bait and temptation which for just over two minutes feasted on any possible resistance to its esurient endeavour.
Across the pop ‘n’ roll of The Ad Hominem and the pop fray of Overton Window, band and album just accentuate their rich enticements, the first of the pair especially persuasive while Cognitive Dissonance eclipses both with its punk coated misbehaviour again hinting at the seventies and the antics of bands like O‘Level and Teenage Filmstars.
It is followed by the calmer melodic seducing of Time After Time After Time After Time. It too has an immediate and organic infectiousness which worms into the psyche before its more feral side rises up in tenacious rock ‘n roll. There is a hint of The Monochrome Set to the song at times as it matches its predecessor’s triumph, both in turn equalled by the rousing antics and rhythmic dynamics of Over It. The trio all vie for best track honours, together providing the album’s pinnacle point.
The forcibly captivating start only continues as We Fall to Pieces steps in with its folk ska rascality, the song like a fusion of Blur and Tankus The Henge around the throbbing lure of Tim Connell’s double bass and the crisp beats of Terry Mascall. Again Baker’s piano and James Stickley’s guitar collude in creative chicanery as the former’s tones and words tantalise across two minutes of instinctively bold rock ‘n’ roll before Pretty Boy swaggers in with its own infectious dynamics and enterprise. Imagine Television Personalities and again Blur bursting in on Bad Manners and you get a flavour of the track’s gorgeous recipe of enticement.
Boy Racer traps ears with its opening hook, a delicious lure soon joined by punchy beats and a groaning bassline. Opening up its vocal and melodic enterprise, the song teases and flirts like a mix of Television Personalities, BabyShambles, and Ste McCabe; continuing to surprise and entice with whiffs of seventies punk pop and rock ‘n’ roll for extra spice of Buzzcocks meets Showwaddywaddy like mischief.
There is great variety to the songs too; Bit Slits for example flirting with the senses through keys which manage to sound like the brass flames of Essential Logic while guitar and vocals veer towards the Nikki Sudden school of discord blessed minimalistic seduction while Electronic 6 entangles portentous keys and winy guitars with fuzzy vocals for a Dalek I Love You/Artery scented melancholy. It is fair to say that Dermot wears influences openly yet each song develops its own distinct character under often familiar hues.