Wednesday, 26 May 2004
Brixton is, as per usual on a warm late May evening, fairly sweaty inside. Cigarettes taste sticky, as if you're inhaling the floor of the room. And it's pretty apt too, seeing as Jet are the headlining act.The Aussie band, branded "the hottest band on the planet" by those excitable hype-purveyors NME 18 months ago, have managed to fill Brixton, a not inconsiderable achievement these days when the latest band is spat out (of fashion) should their second single fail to out-perform their first.
Jet's appearance tonight is helped by the largish and boistrous ex-pat contingent present, and by the band having taken the now-usual route of having their music 'placed' on television adverts (in the case of Britain, flogging picture messages as Becks strolls around his flash pad in Madrid telling the Neville brothers just what they're missing). But we're not hear to moan about the vagaries of the the modern industry (how long have you got?); Jet are more than able to match their new surroundings.
Their wonderfully-produced album used every trick in the book to make them sound like every band you've ever heard - a bit Stones here, bit Who there, bit Gram in the ballads, a dash of Oasis, a smidgen of DC - but live there ain't no trickery here. And it works. Though Nic Cester might not be the most charismatic frontman ever born, his brother Chris' neatherthal drumming and fine Gallagher growl more than compensate.
The guitars sound fantastic (unusual in Brixton) - high in the mix and grabbing the throat. Nowhere better than in 'Cold Hard Bitch' - their best song - which despite its wanton misogyny...(it has long been an ambition of mine to use the phrase "wanton misogyny" in a music review without coming across all Burchill. It's impossible) ...is actually just life-affirmingly great rock'n'roll, a bastardization of AC/DC and The Faces.
The ballads, particularly the lighters-aloft-we're-quite-sensitive-actually 'Look What You've Done', so tender it even got played on regional radio, hit the right pitch and achieve emotional clout, albeit without cerebral connection.
And here lies the slight problem - Jet are never going to change the world with their styled retro classism. Who cares here? It's definitely a beer and fags night; join in, sing along. Rock on. (4/5)
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Photos: Afsheen Shaikh
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