Fame moves fast when a band hits the curve and it's hard to believe that just before Christmas Spector frontman Fred MacPherson could quip to an intimate crowd: “This is one of the last chances you'll get to see us in such a small venue... Tomorrow we're playing a much, much smaller one.”  Stranger still was the momentary awkwardness that filled the studied pause between MacPherson delivering his first sentence and landing the punch-line. In that moment, the Cambridge audience considered him...well, cocky.

In fact, here was a band on the cusp of breaking into the music world, demonstrating the ironic self-deprecation that makes them charismatic, unpretentious and instantly likeable. Less than a month later they’re alongside Red Hot Chili Peppers and Noel Gallagher on Jools Holland; making the BBC’s Sound of 2012 list; confirmed for Coachella; picked as GQ’s best-dressed; and playing arenas with Florence+The Machine. They’re due to play again in Cambridge on the 13th May, at the Student Union Society of all places, but I managed to catch up with them before their tour properly began.

Spector only formed a year ago, but they’re no strangers to London’s music scene. Fred and guitarist Chris Burman’s indie zeitgeist Les Incompetents took off whilst still in their teens, before the lead vocalist was tragically landed in a coma. They’ve all pursued other paths, trying their hand at academic degrees with varying results: Chris studied architecture, Tom dropped out of Goldsmiths (“Contentious subject… the band dropped it for him, let’s put it that way”) and Fred lasted “two and a half long months… At the ‘London University of Cambridge’”. He’s followed the dream ever since: endowed with an occasionally remarkable wit and an ability to talk endlessly, he went on to front Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man and had a brief stint presenting on MTV.

Later, in their van and still buzzing from the show, all five squeeze in the back, feeling witty. Modish suit jackets discarded; top-buttons undone; Fred’s hair is un-slicked, face sweaty and shirt drenched. The performance has left him particularly tousled: he grins as he takes off his geeky spectacles, wiping his forehead dry and catching his breath from a fantastically energetic performance. Sniggers fill the tight space: “Hellooooo” exclaims Tom Shickle, bassist and Spector’s very own Storm model, into my dictaphone. I ask them who the band’s sexy one is - five unruly voices throw back:

“DANNY: Shickle! 
CHRIS: Duncan! Our manager. 
FRED: If by sexy you mean has transmitted and carried an unknown number of STIs…
CHRIS: Fred you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. 
FRED: I shouldn’t be so hard in myself…”

Already they’re attracting attention from all the right people. Touted as “East London’s answer to The Strokes” they’re partly signed to LuvLuvLuv, the label run by Mairead Nash, manager of Florence + The Machine. Everything said is doused with so much irony, it’s hard to know what’s deadpan and what’s not: is the name a homage to Phil Spector? “Never heard of them.” I try again, probe their ambitions:

“FRED: I personally don’t have any, I feel like these guys do [laughs] and they’re just humouring me for a year or two. I’m nearly finished with my ambitions, then I’m gonna have to look for some new interests. I’m literally going to have to go back to colouring books and activities I was involved in aged 3-4 to work out if there’s anything else I’d like doing other than playing turgid 7/10 indie rock music.  
TOM: I want go to the moon. 
JEZ: Play a gig on the moon? 
FRED: I want Tom to have an original ambition. [laughter] I’m joking… I don’t.”

It’s definitely all deadpan - I think.

Ironic or not, what with the chic, Dalston look, I’m surprised they don’t play along to fashionable anti-X Factor snobbery: “I also want to work with Gary Barlow and Simon Cowell. Gary Barlow is one of the most eminent songwriters of this, well I guess not this generation, but of young UK songwriters.”

In a recent stunt Fred cheekily told Radio 1’s Nick Grimshaw he could have the first airplay of new single, 'Chevy Thunder,' providing he got X factor’s boy band-heartthrob Harry Styles to introduce it. Nick complied and so did a slightly baffled Harry: hard-core One Direction fans flocked to the Youtube clip in their thousands.

Spector’s rapid ascent lies as much in their charm as in their music - lines rich in amorous nostalgia and ‘00s indie anthems mixed with ‘80s synthpop. Lyrics include: "I’m not what you wanted, you fell in love with an idea/Just give me the word and I’ll disappear." “I don’t regret things,” Fred elucidates, “regret’s a bad feeling, I just…yearn for shit.” 

“Shitty yearning,” adds Chris helpfully.

After a hyperactive exchange resulting in laughter, groans and the retort “In-your-endo!”, Chris holds his face in his hand crying “No way… No way…” and Fred tells me, “If you want a sensible interview call me tomorrow when I’m not around these Neanderthals.” This is much better, I assure him. 

“I’m worried,” He replies. “Not just about this, about a lot of things. I really need to get to a sexual health clinic ASAP.”

It’s hard not to be entertained by their refreshing idiocy, together with the music:  'Grey Shirt and Tie' veils melancholic romance beneath a paradoxically retro/modern style, whilst 'Chevy Thunder,' with its synth chords weighing out punky guitars, harks back to Springsteen lyrics- it’s no wonder they’re favourably compared to Pulp and The Strokes. Performing comes naturally to Spector: onstage and off.