If I could choose to see any two concerts in all of history, I would go see The Beatles play Shea Stadium in 1964 and the Rolling Stones play Hyde Park in 1969.
Combine the era-specific sounds of those two bands, add a splash of AC/DC, culturally ferment for 30 years and you would have pure distilled rock ‘n’ roll moonshine. You would also have Jet, the latest band to crash into the mainstream.
The Australian band’s debut release “Get Born” has garnered some high-profile attention. A featured spot in a nationally broadcast Apple iPod commercial with their single “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” has left feet tapping (mine included) across the nation. There’s a sense of familiarity with the song that makes you wonder where you’ve heard it before, but this warm feeling of recognition is a sign of Jet’s brilliance and stunning unoriginality.
Since emergence of bands like The Strokes, record companies have scrambled to tap into that cultural phenomenon that is best described as a form of retro nostalgia, and Jet seems to fit the mold a bit too perfectly.
“Get Born” is a bit of a fraud, like the Abercrombie and Fitch “vintage” T-shirt or the Hot Topic trucker’s hat. What looks authentic and feels authentic isn’t always true. The whole album seems cool in a vaguely calculated way: The lo-fidelity style, the bits of studio chatter, and the apparent lack of production values are charming in this post-rock ‘n’ roll era, but it also leaves a bad aftertaste for this critic, who is reminded of Donny Osmond singing “I’m a little bit rock ‘n’ roll.”
Songs like the hand-clap laden “Take It or Leave It” and the bluesy “Move On” seemed ripped from some lost Rolling Stones recording session and the dead on Jagger-like vocals of brothers Chris and Nic Cester don’t help much. “Cold Hard Bitch” is a song that rests squarely on a massive instrumental guitar chords with a beat and sound that screams “Back in Black.” Similarly, the high-octane “Rollover D.J.” is like the bastard child of Kiss and Iggy Pop.
On the whole, Jet’s music is deliciously fun to listen to and comes across as a blend of anthem/arena rock and meloncholy Paul McCartney-like soul-searching piano ballads. The problem I keep facing is that the band’s influences are so blatant that it’s hard to supress comparisons. “Look What You’ve Done” sounds so much like “Hey Jude” that I found myself checking the liner notes to make sure the band wasn’t covering some obscure song from a McCartney side project.
Despite Jet’s flagrant retread of the great bands of the 1960s, I can’t complain. The songs are adequate, if not good, and you can buy this record without fear of this being an album with only one good track. Hopefully, Jet will continue to explore their obvious musical talent and avoid the path of Oasis. That band learned the hard way; while musical roots run deep, the fans ultimately want change. Now, if only we could get the Rolling Stones to sound like this.