Four bruisers from Melbourne, this band have spent the past year conscientiously building a legend for themselves as fighting, bad-mouthing rock'n'roll archetypes. Perhaps inevitably, their debut album doesn't measure up to the rhetoric, being an efficient if fairly joyless hybrid of the Stones, AC/DC and Oasis. Unlike Antipodean contemporaries The Datsuns, Jet seem bereft of either wit or self-knowledge: it's telling that the most impassioned song here is "Rollover DJ", an attack on the supposed evils of dance music that's more laughable than inflammatory.
Four bruisers from Melbourne, this band have spent the past year conscientiously building a legend for themselves as fighting, bad-mouthing rock’n’roll archetypes. Perhaps inevitably, their debut album doesn’t measure up to the rhetoric, being an efficient if fairly joyless hybrid of the Stones, AC/DC and Oasis. Unlike Antipodean contemporaries The Datsuns, Jet seem bereft of either wit or self-knowledge: it’s telling that the most impassioned song here is “Rollover DJ”, an attack on the supposed evils of dance music that’s more laughable than inflammatory.
