I think Jeff Tweedy summed it up best when Chuck Klosterman made a crack about the King of Indie Rock’s son liking Jet. “Don’t you like rock music?” Tweedy asked. Well, don’t you?
Jet has somehow become the laughing stock of the Cool Elite. Sure, they sometimes look ridiculous in their obvious scruffiness and maybe we heard “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” one thousand times too many last year in every commercial not selling Buicks or prunes, but c’mon, that’s a killer track.
Pitchfork seems to think Jet’s new album is monkey piss. Maybe it is, but just like watching monkeys piss in their own faces, Jet entertains me. It makes me laugh. It makes me contort and jerk around. Shouldn’t rock and roll be as good as monkey piss?
All the usual suspects appear on Shine On: lots of AC/DC worthy screams and guitar tones; ass pounding drums and gut rattling bass; and a couple faggy ballads. What’s not to love? Don’t be an uptight dick.
Previously: Get Born review and Dude, You Fuckin’ Rock!
Stream: Jetisode 1 (QT, Win), Jetisode 2 (QT, Win), “Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is” video (QT, Win) and audio (Win), ecard.
What does it say about me that (granted, I only heard the first album’s three singles) the only Jet song I liked was the faggy ballad? Y’know, the one that has the “Golden Slumbers”esque piano?
You know what it says, Tom. Now get back on instant message. Don’t leave me hanging.
Jet’s always been pretty harmless to me – it’s derivative as fuck and whatever, but so what, right? If you’re stuck in a rental car with no iPod hookup, it’s better to listen to the AC/DC crunch of “Are You Gonna Go My Way” than, say, Pussycat Dolls.
Plus, when I was at DTE to see Oasis a few years ago and Jet was opening, “Gonna Go My Way” sounded awesome blasting through those gigantor monitors. And that’s something, I guess.
Keep on derivatively rockin’ the suburban world, Jet!
JTL
Ha, Freudian slip! (Or in the rock and roll world, would that be a Bangsian slip?)
The Jet hit was “Are You Gonna Be My Girl.” “Go My Way,” of course, was the equally derivative (yet equally awesome) Lenny Kravitz hit.
I really wish I could get down with it, but… man… Jet? No, I think I’ll stick to my “fuck Jet” approach–it’s worked for me so far. Say what you will, but Lenny Kravitz is far superior to Jet, by the way.
I don’t care much for Jet or Lenny Kravitz but you might as well be arguing about who’s the world’s tallest little person. Who makes these kinds of distinctions?
what a pile of Antipodean Dingo droppings. Nothing gets through their heads, taking the p*** ous of songwriting, calling themselves Paperweights, meeting mountineers, acting like a pickpocket and genuinely being disenfranchised by the cliche that they love to boot. Any more of these Castlemaine-soaked ramblings would need a trip to the Happy House on the back of an oxen-pulled F1 car.
Insightful words, Dave.
Uhm…yes?