Jet - London, UK, Summer 2003
By: Toby L
Insatiable, that's what it is. Before we've even had a chance to press 'record' on the mini-disc, impeccably-tipped Aussie upstarts Jet are shooting their load. America. Suppression. Getting drunk. No matter the topic, you can bet that either drummer/vocalist Chris Cester, guitar-brandishing brother/rasper Nic, flying-v beholder Cameron Muncey, or rambunctious bassist Mark Wilson have more than their fair, decent share of opinions on a matter.
'I would consider myself personally political, yes,' Chris suddenly declares amidst a record-company's rooftop, with admirable aplomb. 'Especially over the way certain events are unfolding in America right now.'
'Yeah,' nods Cameron, seated opposite - the (nearest to being) mysterious one - who bizarrely notes, 'it's hardly Canada now, is it?'
Nic grins, 'Well, that's because - in Canada - everyone's too busy growing goatees.'
'It's the goatee-capital of the world, mate,' Wilson pronounces assuredly. 'We counted about twenty-seven goatees there in five minutes of looking around.'
'In just one bar,' adds Nic.
'... And they were all cut the same way,' continues Mark excitedly. 'Like Nickelback or something, man; you get to Canada and it should have a big advert declaring, 'You're in Nickelback Country now,' with loads of guys with goatees in the background.'
A nerve has been struck with Chris. 'Oh, please don't mention Nickelback...' He manages, briefly, to pull himself back together. But only briefly.
'By the way,' he raises, 'while we're being interviewed, please can you put down that they're the worst band in the world..?'
And that was just the first three minutes. Thus, you imagine, spending twelve times that figure within the vicinity of one of the world's hottest new rock 'n' roll sensations can only result in even more scandalously (unpublishable) material than one censor could take.
But, underneath all the hi-jinks, minute case of bravado, and humorous jibes, the heart of the Melbourne foursome is succinctly in the right place. Their traditionalism and fondness for classic-artists of the past fascinates, fuels and inspires their plundering, stodgy rock-gems, an occasional, intense calm underpinning their being to form slower, more timeless balladry.
Yet, before the objections, their stark unwillingness to become the most irrelevant of prospects - that of derivative - is time and time again showcased during furiously acclaimed live-performances - a reckless distaste for the restrained and blinkered-cool instead exchanged for a balls-on-the-table rollick through an unarguably good-time, all classic licks and full-throttle, AC/DC-esque vibrancy, and memorable songs (remember that concept?)... All-encompassing, it's the most joyous guitar-party of the year.
So, little wonder the music-industry shook upon initial discovery of such a Jagger-Richards infused racket. Hell, even their main port of call got in on the act - The Rolling Stones, dragging the Cesters, Muncey and Wilson on a stadium-tour of the southern hemisphere. With a sold-out, rare-as-f**k EP to their name - 'Dirty Sweet', encapsulating four demo-recordings - and an upcoming, Dave Sardy (Hundred Reasons, Supergrass, Marilyn Manson)-produced debut-album, 'Get Born', scheduled for an Autumn-release, let alone all manner of packed headline-shows across all sides of the globe to their name - and tireless media-support - Jet's world looks never likely to be the same again. Especially come the time the mainstream has cottoned on.
Upon the much-awaited album, and Sardy's input, Nic gesticulates fondly, 'He's just not about enforcing any rules into the recording...'
'Though he looks enforcing in photos,' reasons Chris.
His brother smiles. 'Yeah, he does look like a mean f**ker, but I think it's evident by the amount of stuff that he's done, he's really good at getting to know about the band he's working with, and bringing their strengths to the fore.'
Muncey objects. 'But Dave wouldn't like us saying he's a really lovely guy; he's a Brooklyn man.'
'Yeah, he'd like us to say that, 'recording with Dave Sardy was a good experience, apart from all the weird, gay antics he pulled on us,' deadpans Chris. 'But it's not true... So, yeah, the album's all done now. Just when we'd had it mastered, we listened to it on a really shitty stereo.'
'And it was still f**king good,' self-congratulates Mark.
'Yeah,' Chris nods, 'we are really f**king proud of it, and it probably couldn't have been made better.'
Nic is thoughtful. 'But it's not really a big deal for us now. It's just down to whether people like it or not.'
'It's rawer than the demo that we released, in the tones and stuff, and as far as rhythm on the album goes, it's only got two guitar-tracks on, to try and keep it faithful.' reveals Muncey. 'Those demos, they were tidied up with Pro-tools and shit. And our old bassist wasn't totally up to it.'
Their replacement four-string prodder beams. 'Yeah, I came in. And made it better (laughs). Nah, I play bass. But I do a bit of piano and harmonica on the record, although there's no choirs, no string-sections, no reverb on any of the shit. No Phil Collins snares.'
'I didn't even perform on the record,' voices Nic, 'I just played on the pinball-machine next door.'
'But, for me,' ponders Chris, 'it's more about the personality that we all contribute to the band, rather than the things that you perform. The style of what you're doing with your instrument on the record is just a style. But what's interesting are the personalities behind the record, and who did what. I was probably the spanner in the works of the whole thing. It's just about who's the funny guy...'
Nic: '... That's me.'
Chris: 'And who's the c**t...'
'Or who hasn't washed,' announces Cam. 'Which would be Chris.'
'Yeah,' enthuses Wilson. 'Let's see just how long you haven't had a shower, Chris..?'
Cester muses deeply for a second. 'Erm... Since Chicago.'
'OK,' calculates Mark. 'So that's... Chicago, Detroit, Toronto, day off, New York, Philly, London...'
'Yup,' admits Chris. 'Eleven days.'
Cue a round-the-roof chorus of 'Urgghhhhhh'.
'But why would I want to shower for these c**ts anyway,' argues Chris. 'All I have to do is get up, sit on a bus for five hours each day and then get off, play a show, get drunk and then get back on the bus.'
'But you've been wearing the same shirt for the last five shows,' retaliates Nic. 'It stinks.'
'Well,' Chris parallels, 'if I was an accountant, I'd shower everyday. But I'm not. So I won't.'
Such a reluctance to become a part of the day-by-day rush of convention could be put down to an artistic swagger and 'cool'. But what's Jet's advice to anyone trying to be rock 'n' roll?
'To just be themselves,' retorts an unflinching Chris.
'Don't pretend to be something you're not, it's that simple,' agrees Nic.
Mark is feistier in his view. 'The moment you start reading a 'how to be a rock-star' type booklet, like certain people have, then you turn out to be a contrived c**t.'
'It's definitely not cool to be an arsehole,' reckons Muncey, 'just because you think you can pull it off. Because you play rock-music, it's not a licence to be horrible.'
'Keith Richards would say that, when you're in a rock-band, you've got an image, and you should perform it to the hilt,' highlights Chris, 'but when he goes home, he just plays piano and listens to classical-music or something. There's definitely not something in us that makes us feel we should act a certain way; that's why we don't jump all over the stage like a bunch of f**king wankers.'
Though, in spite of their reticence towards over-animated delivery, there was little doubting the sheer energy-flow of the band's three debut, British performances, in March of this year. Sold out to the point of heat-exhaustion, the response was avid, fans crowd-surfing, industry-doubters halted in their cynical tracks, and the term 'triumph' adorning every resultant review.
'It was great,' recalls Chris, 'especially that Nottingham show. But - then - they were all fun; the London show was awesome, because you know when you come into a city like London, it's gonna be a big, 'are these guys worth the hype'-fest?' But those shows are just as much fun, because you get your nose up in the air and just say, 'Yeah, we are f**king good,' and you give 'em one of these (sticks up middle-finger).'
'And when people would come up and speak to us after shows,' observes Cameron, 'not like it was in certain times in America, they'd just be so genuine.'
'They're real music-fans in the UK,' outlines Mark.
But has the outbreak of Jet been as much a serious prospect back home for the band?
Chris huffs. 'They don't take themselves seriously, Australians. The whole vibe down there is that 'nothing we do can be brilliant', and that reflects in the press.'
'They applaud mediocrity,' sighs Muncey.
'Unless you're an actor,' quips Mark, 'then you're open to get slammed.'
'And unless you're a swimmer,' leers Nic.
'But even if you're a sportsman,' remarks Wilson, 'and you do a bad swim or whatever, then you're deemed a f**k-head.'
'They're unsure of themselves,' rounds off Chris. 'They don't know what their own identity is.'
So your primary motivation was to leave in search of more empathetic listeners?
'Exactly. That's why we're over here in London doing an interview with rockfeedback right now. We got the f**k out there - whilst the rest of them are back over there, basking in their own mediocrity.'
(Laughs all round)
Mark acts upon some of their harsher accusations. 'I mean, we can't really say it plainly like that, because we have people coming to our shows that like what we're doing in Oz; we're talking about the press really.'
Nic: 'They also get really pissed off if you do well somewhere else before Australia.'
Chris: 'Or if you go and get an American deal, instead of just staying in Australia and selling 10,000 records, which is deemed 'good enough'.'
What about the whole, recent glance down under; the re-acknowledgement, after many years, of its music-scene?
'People have been going out in Melbourne to gigs, and to pubs,' details Muncey, favourably. 'Some we've talked to have said, 'Oh, it's good over here now - you go out, and there's actual people there, all having a good time and enjoying it.'
'We sold out the Hi-Fi Bar when we were last over there, which is a pretty big venue,' excites Chris. 'Whatever the press is saying, it doesn't matter.'
'The people that are into it are f**king great,' Mark puts forward. 'They're loyal, come to the shows, know the tunes...'
Such opinions, confidence - honesty... In some respect, when you listen back to yourselves, and contrast it to what else is being produced currently, do you feel on your own pedestal?
'I think so in a way,' Chris engages, 'because, for starters, we've got tunes - good songs, that have melodies you can remember. And, also, we don't just rely on a garage-rock banner. We'd rather consider ourselves stadium-rock than garage-rock. But like the 'Stones. Not Kiss.
'We're not trying to put ourselves in a bracket, and I'm sure the second record will be a lot different to the first. We're musicians - we don't just try out one thing and follow that forever; we follow our hearts and see what comes out.'
And the Jet songwriting-process..?
'It usually starts,' explicates Chris dreamily, 'with a riff and a melody, and then someone will say, 'Hey, check this out,' and we'll mess around.'
'Or,' Mark asides enigmatically, 'me and Nic might just sit down in the hotel-room this morning and write something...'
'We've also all got solo-records in the works,' unveils Chris. 'Nic's is gonna be called 'Righting The Wrongs', Mark's is called...'
Mark: 'Straight From The Heart-drive...'
Chris: 'Cam's is gonna be called...'
Cameron: 'Hole In One.'
'... Because 'hole' is his nickname,' explains Chris.
'And, Chris',' reveals Cam, 'is called 'F**k,' because it's his favourite word.'
'When we're riding around on the bus, we're gonna get a little recorder and work out these ideas. Just for a laugh. Because there's nothing else to do when you're on the bus,' rationalises Wilson.
Nic smirks. 'Mark's got the most songs together now - there's 'Love Dollop'...'
'Yup,' proudly smiles the songwriter in question, 'And 'Highway Believer'... Plus 'Ladies Love Cool Mark'...'
Revelling over its own corniness, Nic illustrates, 'The first line of my title-track from the album goes... 'Lord knows I made a lot of mistakes, but the biggest mistake was losing you...' I was trying to write a Bryan Adams-style song.'
This all a part of various, ahem, 'side-projects', how about your collective interest: what should those not already accustomed with Jet anticipate?
'Just don't expect it to be shit,' inquires Chris, uncertain. 'I dunno.'
'It's a mixture of all our favourite bands, I suppose, some parts that sound like The Kinks, or The Who,' Nic openly responds. 'I love how we sound - it's everything that we're into.'
'Somebody said the other day, which was a good description,' mentions Chris, 'that a lot of people have missed out first time around on all these great influences from which we write our rock-tunes.'
'... And so did we,' Mark expands. 'That's why we did this sound.'
'We're totally into older music, because it's better than new music,' justifies Chris. 'OK, am I supposed to be influenced by Pearl Jam or the 'Stones, ya know? But we could never sound fully like The Rolling Stones, because it's 2003 - and we were all born in 1980 in Melbourne. But there's also bands such as You Am I from Australia that inspired us, and certain parts of Nirvana. Unless we lived in a cave with just our Led Zep collection, then we're bound to be open to outside influence.'
'Someone told me this story about a young guy, like 17 or 18, and all he's ever heard were two bands or something,' wittily includes Nic. 'His band sound like the Red Hot Chili Peppers.'
Chris, ignoring his brother's remark, 'So back to that question... I don't know. The best bet, is don't expect anything - just come to the show, have a few beers, have a dance... Watch us steal your girlfriend...'
At which point will you know you've sold out as a band?
'We'd never do something we didn't wanna do,' hopes Chris. 'There's four people in the band, it's very democratic.'
'That's a good thing about this band,' acknowledges Nic; 'if one guy turns into an arsehole, there's three others to remind them where they're from... Well, unless we all turn into arseholes at the same time. Then we won't know.' He visibly cringes.
'I don't believe in the 'sold-out' thing,' booms Cameron. 'Do many bands that are now successful ever posture and say, 'Oh, but we don't want to be popular?' in their early days?' We've never said that, so we can't sell ourselves out. As long as we don't have crappy remixes of our songs and we're true to our own shit, then we can't fall down that trap.'
'Was Bob Dylan a sell-out because he switched to electric-guitar,' Mark balances. 'A lot of people thought he was at the time, but they soon forgot that...'
'... Because he made good records,' answers Chris. 'To those that sell their songs to mobile-phone commercials, personally, I wouldn't wanna do it, but if you do want to - then go ahead and do it.'
The immediate future, gents...?
A hefty pause awaits.
Mark: 'I'd like to die of starvation.'
'Why man,' bellows Nic, horrified by such an out-of-context wish.
'Erm,' grumbles Wilson, 'I couldn't think of anything else to say...'
'Well,' Nic straightens up, 'I wouldn't mind working as an apprentice-cobbler with Daniel Day Lewis.'
Cameron is more sweetly humble. 'I'd like to spend more time with my girlfriend.'
'One immediate thing is that it'd be awesome to sleep in my own hotel-room,' barks Chris. 'Because we all share our rooms. I don't like the idea of people walking in the room just as you're about to jerk off.'
'Yeah, I'm tired of seeing these guys' arse-cracks,' his brother affirms.
'It'd be nice to have somewhere to live, because none of us have a home,' Mark tragically points out. 'People are like, 'Where are you from,' and I'm like, 'Er, the universe?' We all use our parents' houses to store stuff, but don't even have rooms there.'
And your performance-related, advancing pastures new?
'It's really cool with the music now, because we've got a whole clean slate to work from,' replies Cam, 'and songs to work on and play with, since they've been building up for a long time.'
Nic is technically more focussed. 'I'm really looking forward to getting the songs on the album that we never play as much, as they have piano and stuff, to a stage where we can play them live with someone on keyboards.'
Chris gets the final word. ' And just to get to a point where the live-show and sound is totally kick-arse, even though you should never get to that stage anyway: you should always be trying to make it better.'
God bless Jet. In a world of complacency and repetition, their simultaneous thirst to evolve and entertain is one of the most precious things rock 'n' roll has left. Don't take our word for it - take theirs instead.
Artists in this article: Jet, Jetplane Landing