hero and leander

more rescued stuff from that lost missive of march this year……

Scrunch up the eyes and open your ears for just out now via the perfectly formed tapete imprint you’ll stumble across the debuting full length from London / Essex beat pop combo Hero and Leander. Maybe we should have had the pop bit adorned in huge bold italics for maximum effect for it seems this lot have an incurably irresistible knack for knocking out knee trembling love dazed dandies as though they are fast going out of fashion. Garnished in soaring pulse racing ditties, walloping ear candy hook laden chorus’ and dashed with a surrendering shy eyed demeanour, Hero and Leander flex the kind of pristine pop prowess not heard around thee parts since both the heartstrings and morton valence adorned and lest it be said adored our turntable. Arriving in something of a tailspin this eleven track aside being a bit of a darling that incidentally holds its head among comparisons to frente and the Sundays did despite its sugared dusting of saccharine soft pop overtures clearly have us reeling on our listening perch. Oozing romance and coyness and seductively pressed in a fond effervescent shrill whose obscure camera references clearly come home to roost on the excitably affectionate sun glowed ‘light of my night’ as it simultaneously shimmies with the kind of twee breeziness much loved on releases bearing the name free design upon their hides, hero and leander seduce and arrest with an assured purred pop precision. Subtle showers of Bacharach and David daintily drizzle the grooves this being best exemplified on the beautified musicalia of ‘here comes the sun’ while the crystal tipped love note harmonies smouldering amid ‘in any given day’ are gracefully scored with a becoming forlorn frailness succulently kissed in wintry symphonia. Falling headlong into the kind of pop clarity and classicism found shadowing the maturing moments of a prefab sprout back catalogue is the aching resignation and reflection eclipsing the grooves of ‘everything will be’. elsewhere there’s the smoking cool soul exotica funk swagger of the kooky ’soul to soul’ while the white hot razor sharpened ’collider’ muscles in with the kind of breathless swoon that imagines an on top of their game latter career Dexy’s returning to their debuting former selves while acutely dovetailing the first love innocence of the lotus eaters is the alluring ’one three four’. deceptively perfect if you ask me.



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