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Ushered in by a wave of ambient tranquillity on opener ‘When Saturday Comes’, Now or Whenever seems to begin on a different foot to Spector’s back catalogue. Though the band quickly descend into their usual semi-feverish state as the first fervent notes of ‘Catch You On The Way Back In’ ring out, this feels like a different Spector to the band that delivered Moth Boys almost seven years ago. They’ve always been deeply introspective and brooding, but Now or Whenever feels like a different kind of meditative.

Of course, it still has that thought-provoking, considered approach that’s a mainstay of their lyricism. Nevertheless, Now or Whenever feels like it possesses a different outlook. Perhaps it’s the time that has passed since their last album, perhaps it’s the lingering effects of a couple of years spent diverting from what we’re used to. Whatever it is, there’s a kind of optimism that saturates every beat. It’s not out and out sunshine—there’s still a sense of self-awareness—but it comes in the form of a calm contentment and acceptance. 

‘Norwegian Air’, written with The Magic Gang’s Jack Kaye, is a driving, questioning track featuring one of those dramatic build-ups Spector are so good at. Their strongest asset is still the marrying of Fred Macpherson’s distinctive vocals and their subtly stratospheric guitar lines, but on tracks like ‘Norwegian Air’, they experiment more with joyous synth. It’s a golden combination. 

Some tracks, of course, are ready to play out under dim-lit rooms, with a crowd of fans for whom each word means everything. There’s something about Spector’s live performances that mean whilst they’re undoubtedly chaotic and boisterous, they manage to evoke something deeply feeling inside of you that’s hard to leave behind once they leave the stage. Now or Whenever captures that split emotional state immaculately. ‘Bad Summer’, arguably the album’s standout, is a perfect example of this. The urgency of its lyrical delivery and the captivating chorus leaves a mark on you in the same way their live performances do too. 

Spector are great at nostalgia; it falls over every release like a layer of mist. Even when they’re discussing the here and now, it feels like this will quickly something they’ll reminisce upon. Time and the grapple we have with it is at the centre of Now or Whenever—how it constantly slips and moves, a frustratingly untouchable substance. Interestingly, though, there’s a kind of appreciation for time’s fickle nature. Where previously they might have been more inclined to dwell in the past and let nostalgia turn into yearning and melancholia, on Now or Whenever those backwards glances feel fonder and more mature like they’re content to move on and instead peer into the future, or plant their feet firmly in the present. 

Spector have always had something special. Even when they change their perspective, or venture into more peaceful territory, that quality remains. Spector can be shapeshifters, and experiment, but there’s always something  intrinsically Spector about them that they can’t shake, no matter how much they grow up. Now or Whenever sees them turn over a new leaf and see things differently, but those same Spector idiosyncrasies are still scattered throughout—it’s exactly that that makes each release so special.

Now Or Whenever is out now.

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More about: spector