Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Four skinny white boys (and a token porker) make a record that wouldn’t sound out of place circa 1975 in CBGB’s or Max’s Kansas City. The critics wet themselves and suddenly the young gentlemen in question are having to fend off the Elizabeth Jaggers and Kate Mosses of this world.

That last part hasn’t happened yet but believe me it will. Culled from The Hives’ first two albums and A.K.A. I-D-I-O-T album, this all meat, no gristle primer is a joy from Stooge-ian start (‘Hate To Say I Told You So’) to Talking Head-sy finish (‘The Hives Are Law, You Are Crime’).

Unlike The Strokes, these boys realise that there’s a musical world beyond New York, with The Saints, Buzzcocks and Damned a few of the other combos they’re obviously in love with.

Great songs demand great lyrics which is precisely what you get on ‘Automatic Schmuck’: “I’m an automatic schmuck/With a tendency to rock/ Deprived of mind but yet I know – I’m a metallic man waiting to blow.”

Fucking poetry, mate. The likes of ‘Here We Go Again’, ‘Outsmarted’ and ‘Untutored Youth’ are infused with a psychotic close to the edge-ness that makes them far less cutesy than Julian Casablancas’ mob.

“Saviours” may be too strong a word, but The Hives are certainly frontline troops in the battle to reclaim rock ‘n’ roll from Radiohead and their noodly mates. Alan McGee, sir, you’ve done it again!