You may have heard Jet’s single “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” in the new iPod commercial and figured it was by some brilliant ’60s band that never got its due. Unabashedly derivative, Jet’s debut CD, “Get Born,” not only borrows from the Stones, Beatles, Kinks, T-Rex and AC/DC, but lifts licks from their equally sticky-fingered predecessors Oasis. They funnel the stolen goods into tight song structures, add Nic Cester’s sweetly raspy vocals and deliver the most compelling rock performances this year.
Rap rock may be suburbia’s current rebel yell, but it’s growing hoarse and tired in its old age. Critics hold up such hipster garage acts as the Strokes and the White Stripes as rock’s new hope, but it may be the less-calculating Jet who actually manage to sell old-school skinny-legged, pouty-lipped rock to today’s mall kids. “Get Born” flew past Billboard’s New Artist chart and landed in the Top 200 at 79. “We’re not a New York hip band,” says drummer Chris Cester, who’s sitting in a Manhattan restaurant after the show. “We didn’t buy our ripped jeans at a boutique in L.A. We wore ripped jeans because we couldn’t afford better ones.” He stands up, exposing a huge tear in the seat of his black jeans. Other patrons stare, and his brother Nic shakes his head. “Could you at least wear black underwear instead of white?”
The Cesters, along with guitarist Cam Muncey, started Jet when they were still in high school back in Melbourne; Nic, the oldest, is now 24. They were the only band in the 11th grade who played a style straight outta Mom and Dad’s vinyl-record collection. After honing their sound in local pubs, they inducted bassist Mark Wilson, released an EP and began playing Europe. “Get Born” is almost gold in England, and they recently opened for the Stones in Australia. Still, Jet have their doubts about becoming rock’s new missionaries. “There’s this idea that the Strokes are here to save rock and roll, but it’s [rap-rockers] Nickleback who’ve sold like 12 million albums,” says Muncey. “So maybe the real story,” says Wilson, “is Nickleback are f–king up rock faster than the Strokes can save it.” So on the eve of rock’s apocalypse, they all order another round of drinks.
