09/06/2026
Raymond Jesse Hector 1947-2026
Born 17th July 1947 in Kilburn. Died probably around 4th or 5th April 2026 (Easter) in Neasden. Mother was Dorothy (known as Doll) a Seamstress. Father was Harry a Toolmaker. He had one brother called Alan and is survived by his Nephew George Hector
Obituary
Most people remember Jesse Hector and his fellow Gorillas from the pages of '70s music paper inkies such as the NME, Melody Maker and Sounds. With their mutton chops, space-age mod hairdos, garish strides and geezerish rock n' roll, heavily influenced by Jesse's two great loves The Small Faces and Jimi Hendrix, they seemed a perennial favourite in the music press of the day – but what a lot of people didn’t realise was his back story…
Jesse had been peddling his wares in the London music industry since the late 50s. Having swapped all his Roy Roger comics aged 7 for a guitar that he was so in love with he slept in bed with it, he was skiffling on the local streets of Kilburn at the age of 9 or 10 - and playing the famous 2i’s coffee bar in Soho. At the age of 13 Jesse was making rock n roll demo recording with his group The Cravats (that Joe Meek was meant to later produce), purportedly playing the detuned guitar at the start of ‘Freakbeat classic ‘We Didn’t Kiss, We Didn’t Love, But Now We Do’ by The Clique (which producer Larry Page would appropriate for The Trogg’s ‘Wild Thing’), then forming a mod looking rock n roll trio (a very brave thing to do at the height of the mod/rockers battles on the south coast of England at the time), then The Way of Life, The Mod Section, proto-punk legends Crushed Butler, Helter Skelter, and The Hammersmith Gorillas – who recorded an explosive version of ‘You Really Got Me’ a decade on from the original.
Appearing on the scene at the same time as the advent of punk The Gorillas (shortened from The Hammersmith Gorillas) two singles on the Chiswick label, ‘She's My Gal’ and ‘Gatecrasher’, scored high in the independent charts, and they even shared Single Of The Week in Sounds with The Ramones, Eddie & The Hot Rods and The Flamin’ Groovies (titled Punks rool!) in July 1976. ‘She’s My Gal’ was described as “British rock ‘n’ roll that sounds dangerously like a future classic”. The Gorillas then played a headline smashing set at the Mont de Marsan punk festival in France the very next month – as a thunderstorm raged on the horizon.
Bizarrely enough Sticky records released an old recording from Jesse’s old group Helter Skelter from 1971 around this time too – ‘I Need You’ and ‘Goodbye Baby’. Recorded at Regent Sounds in one take so raucous and ahead of its time was it that it wasn’t deemed releasable until punk happened.
Famous faces spotted in the crowd at The Gorillas London shows of the period included Shane McGowan, Paul Weller, Billly Idol and John Lydon. They also appeared on TV on the Janet Street Porter presented The London Weekend Show on a programme focusing on the burgeoning independent record labels. The Gorillas in lurid living colour on a Sunday lunchtime was a sight that permanently burned into one's retinas. They seemed to be primed and ready for the big time, but then just as things were heating up for them they took a surprising sabbatical – and when they returned, having jumped ship to the Cambridge based Raw record label (who had reissued and sold a lot of copies of the Hammersmith Gorillas ‘You Really Got Me') a lot of momentum had been lost when their masterwork ‘Message To The World’ was released in 1978.
'Message To The World' is pretty much a microcosm of Jesse's circuitous journey through the London's music world up until that point – from the vantage point of being a fan and also having fronted various groups that offered up primal and honest rock n' roll – and what would later be termed proto-punk – often at a time when the vagaries of fashion had pretty much turned its back on it.
As Kim Davis succinctly put it in the NME review of the album “The Gorillas have listened to almost everything and mix it up so well they’re impossible to categorise…”
Sadly ‘Message To The World’ was not a great commercial success though – and the group split up soon after. The Gorillas briefly returned a few years later to play a few shows and release a Rat Scabies produced version of Cliff Richard’s ‘Move It’ – and then they were gone again.
Jesse was so badly affected by the death of his fellow compadre in arms in his many bands, bassist Alan Butler, that he hung up his guitar till about a decade later when he was coaxed out of retirement to play live with The Sound and The Gatecrashers – who recorded some blistering singles – and then he was gone again.
And more than anything, throughout this maelstrom of bands, Jesse was a huge music fan. From the moment he saw and heard Elvis it was locked into his soul. He travelled up to Aldershot to see The Beatles first show in the south of England – in December 1961, saw Jimi Hendrix before he had even found The Experience, The Rolling Stones early on (and hung out and chatted with Brian Jones at a ‘Ready Steady Go’ TV recording), David Bowie – as Davy Jones & The Lower Third – at The Marquee (not impressed) and avidly followed shows by The Who, The Small Faces and John’s Children. He was so upset when The Small Faces split he got ill. “I decided that if they didn’t do it I f**kin’ would.” Creedence Clearwater Revival at the Royal Albert Hall, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, the New York Dolls at their London show at Biba’s..the list just goes on and on.
When Punk then came along it was dictated that it was Year Zero and that no influences could be admitted to be broached – The Stooges & MC5 excepted - but for Jesse Hector it was just business as usual, rock ‘n’ roll business. With the ebb and tides of musical changes the genre names may have been constantly changing - mod, glam, punk etc – but for Jesse it was just rock n roll at the end of the day. Even his hairstyle reflected this. Mod on the top, rock n roll at the sides and skinhead at the back. Whereas groups like The Clash weren’t able to lower their guards and finally admit that they had influences before the beginning of punk until their ‘London Calling’ album, Jesse had actually come out and said it with ‘Message To The World’ the year before. Looking like superheroes on the cover - space age mods coming down to earth to save the planet with rock ‘n’ roll , Jesse nailed his manifesto to the mast on the back of the album cover – and he has now sadly joined his heroes in the starry firmament he talks about so poetically.
“The stars in the sky are the good human beings of the past – the ones who came here and tried to do their best to do good and help others. Some “Stars” are given a little extra in their image and style to help the young ones with a very powerful thing called Rock ‘n’ Roll. These extraordinary people that have this something can be called back to Heaven by God at any time and at a moment’s notice.
It seems to me that God needs Good Stars out there to help the people down here. You who read this have a God over you – your own God – so you must do what you think is right on this Earth. Always help people who are hurt, or lying on the floor ; help them back on their feet.
God bless everybody. How will I ever forget: Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochran, Buddy Holly, Brian Jones, Marc Bolan, Jimi Hendrix.”
Written by Jesse Hector 8th February 1978
Phil King
Jesse Hector RIP 1947-2026
Friends remember
I was standing in the wings of a stage in France with Jesse Hector – about to go on with his band The Gorillas and there were some issues with the equipment. The veins were standing out on his neck, his fists were clenched, and the tension in his body was palpable. He was announced, put one foot on the stage acknowledged the cheers from the audience, with a wave “’ello everybody”, chunk, chunk on the guitar a little dance move and was the most relaxed man in the World. He was in his happy place, where he was a proper star.
(other iterations of this story are available, as is the case with much to do with Jesse)
That was on a tour opening for the Flamin’ Groovies and causing them considerable concern for their headline status. We toured in Al, the bass payer’s VW Microbus, equipped with a Baby Belling stove and full tea making equipment. They brought a lot of canned food with them and supplemented this with Baguettes and Cheese, just about the only thing French that they would eat. They were as English as tuppence.
In 1976 I produced ‘She’s My Gal’ by the Gorillas for my old label Chiswick, followed by “Gatecrasher” which came out the following year. Many of the soon to be familiar faces from the burgeoning Punk Rock scene could be spotted in the audiences at Gorillas show. They recognised terminal Rock ‘n’ Roll when they saw it. The singles were Indy successful, and we were aiming to bring in a Pop producer, management, even some outside songs, when he turned his back on it all, vanishing back into his day job as a cleaner, where he was know as Ray.
Having known him for 50 years, his sudden and very unexpected death has been a real shock for me. Jesse was in every way a one-off, never to be repeated, nor indeed imitated. There was the distinctive and outlandish dress sense that would have looked ludicrous on most but somehow looked stylish on him. The totally over the top stage performance was riveting, acrobatic to say the least, and whether he was standing on his head or rolling on his back he still kept playing and didn’t miss a beat. He was pure Rock ‘n’ Roll, it’s essence.
Though he was undoubtedly entertaining, Jesse didn’t just see Rock ‘n’ Roll as entertainment, in his mind it was a way of getting across his ‘message to the World’ which became the title of his 1978 Raw Records LP. He had an almost Messianic view of himself and that through the power of his performance he could change the World for the better. A noble thought thwarted often by himself.
The first Punk Rock Festival, deep in the south of France in Mont-de-Marsan in a bullring, was a shambolic affair. When my business partner Ted and I arrived having driven down from London overnight, Mark Zermati the promoter was already incapacitated. Jake Riveira with the two Stiff acts had taken over and was looking for a handy band to put on. The Gorillas travelled in a small pack of three, so were an easy target. Spotting this Ted walked over and told Jesse to get offside in a hurry. Later he told me he sat in a church for the afternoon. Various acts came and went, and Jesse returned just as the sun had started to go down. The stage lights went up, the Gorillas went on, Jesse called the sun bleached, sleepy audience to the front and in the distance a thunderstorm broke out and lightning slashed the sky. He was a wonder to behold, rocking through old Beat group standbys like You Can’t Judge a Book, Big Boss Man, Wild Thing via Hendrix, finishing with Foxy Lady, sustaining those vibrato notes with the finger of his left hand. With All Or Nothing and Jailhouse Rock in the set too, he was a hybrid of Steve Marriott and Elvis, a tossup between which one he favoured – the voice of Marriot the Elvis moves. The surviving cassette recording doesn’t fully deliver the impact of the night – you had to be there.
The stories are legend and endless, and many people have theirs about Jesse, a quiet man at heart, who exploded on stage and with a little less fear of failure he could have been a contender. Drop into the Spreadeagle pub of a Monday and people will have tales to tell of the man who sat in the corner nursing a coke and talking passionately about the power of Rock ‘n’ Roll that ran through his veins, almost bursting out of him.
Roger Armstrong
London, May 2026
One of the favourite stories Jesse told me was related to The Cravats. There were three sixteen year olds (lead, rhythm and bass) and a fourteen year old (drums). At one of their early shows they were approached afterwards by a well to do lady who said she would like to become their manager. She owned an antique shop and suggested the lads set up their equipment in the shop and use it for a practice space. They did, and she left them to it. Shortly into the rehearsal someone accused someone else of playing bum notes or being out of time and a full scale fight ensued. Before they knew it a lot of very expensive antiques had been smashed and the shop was a mess. Realising what they had done they quickly got their equipment together and high tailed it up the road. They never did see the woman again.
Sticking with manager stories and strange but true, Jesse relaunched the Jesse Hector Rock 'n' Roll trio in 1966. He was briefly managed by Radio Luxembourg R&B DJ Mike Raven, a keen record collector. Mike put a lot of rare Rockabilly and up tempo rockin' blues tracks on to reel to reel tape for the trio to cover. He also got the band work in high class west end clubs where the likes of Paul McCartney and Eric Burdon would hang out. By 1967 Raven became one of the original Radio 1 DJ roster. As well as his huge record collection he had an interest in witchcraft and the occult. He went on to star in horror films Lust Of A Vampire (1970), Crucible Of Terror (1972) and I, Monster (1974). Oh to have been a fly on the wall when Jesse and Mike got together to discuss, well, anything really.
Another thing that stuck with me was a quote from Mark Lamarr, I can picture Mark and Jesse sitting next to each other at my 40th birthday drink. He said something like; Jesse Hector was the only musician who made a brilliant rockabilly recording "Fast Train To Memphis" by Jesse Hector Rock 'n' Roll Trio at the turn of the 1960s. Played lead guitar on a brilliant freak beat single in the mid '60s "We Didn't Kiss, Didn't Love, But Now We Do Do" by The Clique. And then sang and played on a brilliant punk record in 1974's "You Really Got Me" by Hammersmith Gorillas.
These were followed by more brilliant records that Mark didn't name check. "I Need You" by Helter Skelter, a violent love song (!?!), recorded earlier but not issued until 1977. "She's My Gal" The Gorillas (1976), "Leavin' Town" Jesse Hector and The Sound (1992), "Running Wild" Jesse Hector and The Gatecrashers, to name a few of my favourites.
Back in the 1990s Jesse would sometimes come with me to Joe Meek Society gigs at various pubs on the Holloway Road. More often than not musicians we had gone to see were excited to see Jesse there and greeted him like a long lost friend. I remember Carlo Little ("I always thought you would have been the one to make it, Jesse"), Bruce Welch, Neil Christian, Tony Dangerfield, to name a few. Jesse told me one time in the mid '60s he had gone to see Neil Christian and The Crusaders who was real popular. During the interval either Neil or his guitarist had been waylaid by a pretty young thing in the dressing room and Jesse was dragged on stage to fill in for a couple of numbers until they returned
Nick Garrard
London, May 2026
The news of Jesse Hector’s death came as a brutal and unexpected shock. I genuinely thought he would outlive us all.
A flood of memories immediately came rushing back, beginning with the first time I met him in the late 1980s. A friend had pointed him out to me in Notting Hill Gate, as I would never have recognised him without the trademark sideburns and outrageous outfits that had become such a fixed part of my mental image of him.
I had a million questions to ask him that day as I’d always wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery of the Hammersmith Gorillas. We went to sit in a greasy café nearby, and that became my real introduction to the « World of Jesse ». I immediately realised he was one of the most obsessive rock ’n’ roll fans I had ever met. His knowledge and passion spanned everything from the finest 1950s blues and rockabilly to the most obscure 1960s mod bands like The Clique, and 1970s proto-punk groups such as Third World War, which impressed me no end. He would also break into impersonations during our conversation, including a wildly unhinged take on The Edgar Broughton Band that eventually drove the café owners to despair, and got us thrown out in the end.
It felt like such a shame that he would never play the occasional gig at least. Lifelong supporters like Nick Garrard and Slim Chance kept encouraging him to return to the stage. Eventually, their persistence paid off, and in 1992 he formed a new band, Jesse Hector and The Sound, with two young mods. The early shows at the St John’s Tavern in Archway were among the most explosive rock ’n’ roll moments I have ever witnessed. Jesse’s extraordinary high-energy guitar playing and acrobatic stage presence left everyone speechless.
It seemed obvious to me that this show needed to go on the road, particularly to France, where Jesse still held a strong cult status following his historic appearance at the Mont-de-Marsan punk festival in 1976 and his legendary gigs with the Flamin’ Groovies.
In 1993, through old friends, I managed to put together a number of dates across France, and Jesse seemed genuinely excited by the prospect. I had absolutely no experience in the role of tour manager, but somehow I could sense it was going to be great fun. In Montpellier, Lyon, Toulouse, Le Havre and beyond, Jesse was received like a hero. Fans queued to have their records signed, there were countless radio interviews, and in return he delivered a series of phenomenal rock ’n’ roll shows that are still talked about to this day.
The return to London was a harsh comedown, back to the grim reality of playing bottom of the bill for no money. This is when the band shifted its focus to recording.
Liam Watson had opened Toerag Studios in Shoreditch and was keen to capture Jesse’s sound as live and as spontaneous as possible. We felt Jesse would be at home with Liam’s superb vintage equipment and the relaxed, easygoing atmosphere of the studio. A number of great recordings were made but they failed to attract much interest from record labels. There wasn’t much room for wild, raw rock ’n’ roll in London during the Britpop years, although it’s a little-known fact that Jesse was highly respected by bands like Blur and Menswear, whose members regularly turned up at the gigs.
The band were invited back to France, this time to headline a major open-air festival on the seafront in Dieppe. On arrival, the band went straight into soundcheck while I headed into town to meet old friends. Sitting on a bar terrace in a crowded street, I suddenly heard Jesse’s guitar blasting from miles away, echoing off the buildings as people stopped dead, baffled by the sheer volume. I knew then it was going to be special , and it turned out to be the best live performance I ever saw from Jesse. That night I heard him pull notes from his guitar that no one else could ever play ; notes that don’t even seem to exist on a guitar neck.
Ted Carroll and Roger Armstrong invited Jesse and the band to play the 20th anniversary of Ace Records at the Bottom Line on Shepherd’s Bush Green, supporting soul diva Mary Love and Link Wray. It was a fantastic night, and Jesse and Link Wray hit it off immediately, like two rock ’n’ roll blood brothers.
One of my favourite memories remains this live session we did for Robert Elm’s show on BBC London in December 1994. Robert Elms had asked on air, “Whatever happened to Jesse Hector of the Hammersmith Gorillas?” and was flooded with calls saying he was still playing and better than ever. A live session was booked for the following day. We arrived at the BBC and were sent down to the basement studio, while the show was on live six floors above. Jesse’s amp was so loud that the feedback could be heard on air mid-interview upstairs, prompting a sound engineer to come sprinting down the stairs shouting at him to turn it down. Afterwards, Jesse was invited up for a live interview with Robert Elms and ended up completely “out-geezering” him, which is no mean feat.
With the rise of the internet in the late ’90s, I began to notice growing interest in the late ’60s and early ’70s , a period that had been largely overlooked by music historians. Reissues of Jesse’s pre-Gorillas bands Crushed Butler and Helter Skelter in particular gained attention, as listeners searched for the missing link between mods, glam and punk. Wild photos of Jesse from the Gorillas era also were finally seen by the entire world and took on a cult status of their own. As a result, he began to receive more press than ever before without even having to play live, which I believe suited him just fine.
In 2014 Caroline Katz’s great documentary A Message To the World. Whatever Happened to Jesse Hector was released and received great reviews. I organised a showing of the film in Paris, Jesse came over from London and, as in the old days, the French audience welcomed him like a returning hero. Caroline’s film is a wonderful description of Jesse’s unique character, the tale of a man who kept the rock’n’roll flag flying all his life.
Jesse became a close friend over the years, and I will miss him immensely. He was also the greatest live performer I have ever seen. His approach to music was never about entertainment, not even about music itself. It was something far bigger: it was life or death, all or nothing, a total way of being that consumed everything around it and left no room for compromise.
Philippe Migrenne
Paris, June 2026
