Heronimus Fin is not an actual person, should you have been left out of the loop of their previous four album releases, although the idea that Mr and Mrs Fin did bestow the name Heronimus on their little one is a delicious one.
They have, by either sheer genius or random spasm of the universe, become one of the UK’s most collectible bands, featuring six times consecutively in Record Collector’s 500 Most Collectible Artists poll. This is especially impressive as this is poll is hardly just an amateurs only affair, featuring as it does, everyone from Roger Waters (placed behind Heronimus Fin), to White Stripes (placed behind Heronimus Fin) to Queen (placed well ahead of Heronimus Fin). Their private press issues of vinyl and cassettes are appropriately draped with price tags online which make you pause to think after which number the comma should go. Playing to their audience, their latest release is nicely divided into miniscule limited edition for the ravenous hoards who will buy anything with a number written on it in gold pen.
Heronimus Fin’s forthcoming long player sees them shift slightly from their well-practiced freakbeat to heavier riffage, a la prime Sabbath, but with a concept album narrative of mid-seventies prog proportions. Following Steven, a man addicted not to heroin, meth or glue but drugs supplied on prescription – perhaps the 21st century’s stealthiest claimer of lives, it’s a story which will certainly resonate with some and hopefully serve as a warning to others. There’s a host of influences musically, some more obvious than others (Black Sabbath; Jethro Tull; wait…is that Spinal Tap!?) and the deluxe vinyl its housed in is duly chunky and grand. For nostalgic fun and sound financial investment, it feels like a win-win.