JET at Leeds Uni
Tuesday June 15, 2004 - Permanent link to this post -
Absolutely unbelievable. This band completely blew me away. I picked up Jet's album, Get Born, last August after the initial release of "Are you Gonna Be My Girl" and have been a big fan since. This antipodean four piece rock. (I thought about ending that sentence with something more coherent, but it just wasn't going to happen. And besides, they do rock)
We rolled up to Leeds University having spent all week brimming with anticipation. Me, JC, Ruthy C, Emily and Francesca already had our tickets in hand but waited outside to see if we could get tickets for one of JC's mate's who was driving over on spec. Not even the touts could help us. It was the hottest day of the year (probably) and this relatively small venue was a sell out. By the end of the night there wouldn't be a dry t-shirt in the house.
This was to be an evening of surprises, the first of which was bumping into PJ (I do know a lot of people who initialise their names) who played guitar in my old band, Glasshouse. Along with the now top international drummer, Chris Bussey we used to have quite a three piece. You may not have heard of us, but at the time we were very big on the Thornton pub and working mens club scene. We could have been the next Blink 182 (before Blink 182 were). We spent some time catching up and realised that we hadn't spoken to eachother since 1998 when he phoned to say he wasn't going to be in the band anymore. Broke my heart. Good to see you again though PJ.
The queue for beer was massive. I reverted back to the gigging instincts honed in my teens and we "doubled up" on pints so that we wouldn't have to go back to the bar so soon. This doesn't work. Being in such a tightly packed crowd with no free hand just makes you down the first of your beers as quickly as possible, and even then you drink the second one fast so you don't spill it whilst pogo-ing to the support band
The support band. They rocked too, but nobody can remember their name. I'm sure they mumbled something about a number, and then something about either things or bees. So for the purposes of this review, we'll call them 100 (1000/1000000) Things (Bees/Trees). Anyway, they were good (now that's a review). The standout song for me was "Dogsbody" with it's lyrical simplicity. It spoke to everybody in that room who had ever done a days work in their lives (which, considering it was a Students Union might not have been all that big a percentage).
Another trip to the bar timed perfectly to get back before Jet took to the stage. Any normal gig review would now go on to make reference to the order of the set. What the band started with etc. I can't do that. It's not because I didn't know the songs (I know most of the words). It's not because I only listen to CDs in the car and only know them by track number (Clive Pullen, I'm talking to you). I can't do it because I don't remember. It didn't matter. Every song was as amazing as the next. There was no low point. There was no highlight (although the teased out intro to "Are you gonna be my girl" was pretty high). The whole set just blew us all away. It was another one of those gigs where I had vowed beforehand that I would stand at the back with a beer and take it in, but soon ended up running into the throng and jumping till my knees gave way.
The second surprise encounter of the evening was with a lad who lives on the same street as my Nan. Back in the day, all we would hear from her were complaints about that naughty boy kicking his football or his rugby ball into her garden. He brushed passed me and I shouted after him. “What are you doing here?” was his first remark. Never the sharpest pin in the cushion, that lad. It told him off for kicking balls into my Nan's garden. “That was years ago” he said. “Just watch it!” I replied. He won't do it again.
The gig ended and I bumped into a few more people I know, one of whom both me and JC used to work with at Hudsons pub in Bradford. Blasts from the past all round. We left the union and made for a club. HI-FI was the venue; Funky Motown Soul was the “vibe” (I'm so with-it). It was the perfect come down from such an energy packed Jet gig. Completely diferent style of music, but something you still wanted to dance to. We stayed there until Ruthy C fell asleep.
The back end of the evening turned out quite eventful. We'd got our Fish 'n' Chips, we'd ordered our taxi and were waiting for it to pick us up round the back of the station. JC couldn't wait till we got home and got in trouble with the (Transport) five-0 for using the station wall for bladder relief. What do you say when you're halfway through and two boys in blue sneak up on you and insist that you “Put it away son”? Fortunately JC managed to smooth talk his way out of it and we were on our way. He's promised he'll never do it again.
So that was Friday. Doesn't seem worth writing about the rest of the weekend. I'm certainly not going to mention the football. I don't want to talk about it. What?
