The Mystery Jets hail from Eel Pie Island, London, which has been a bohemian escape in Twickenham ever since its pub got some great gigs in the 1960′. This band is just as quirky as their supposed homeland – lead singer Blaine Harrison sings with his 55 year old father Henry wielding the bass; Blaine himself was born with spina bifida, and has spent most of his 20 years on two crutches; the “Jets adorn their stages with kitchenware for performances.
They are passionate about their bohemian ideals – it was this band that organised one of the more star studded indie tribute concerts to Syd Barrett in his wake last year. Through the course of this record, progressive, psychedelic folk and British pop tread in each others path as though they were walking towards each other, both choosing to step to the same side attempting to pass, in a polite but amusing manner.
Nowhere is that charmingly awkward dance more present that in Making Dens schizophrenic opener, ‘You Cant Fool Me Dennis’, a song steeped in 80′ matter-a-fact lyricism, alternating moods between the sombre and the hectic, with both restrained harmony tempered 8 bars later by tight jangley mania.
Throughout the first half of the album, tension is built – with Blaine’ lyrics dipping into deadpan lament, and back to had-to-be-there storytelling over the course of “Purple Prose’ and “Horse Drawn Cart’, but its really when they slip into the raucous psych dance jam ‘Zoo Time’ that the bands colours are really shown. With percussion that would fit in on a DFA release, overly distorted guitars and gang vocals, the track not only serves as a statement of intent reward for those that had stuck the first 7 tracks out, but contextualises the other songs by counter-pointing their restraint.
Indeed none of the other songs draw on too long, nor break too far from a pop foundation despite the bohemian leanings, a measured move to not bore the audience which works to some extent. It possible to dislike the songs instantly, just as it is to fall ravenously in love with them so its worth noting that the stand out tracks on it were all released as singles up to 2 years before the album got made, and it might be those 7â€s that the curious should seek out first.
Making Dens is a relatively good debut LP from a band that has skittish, eccentric talent, made better for its different take on psych flavoured rock that has had such a revival of late. This is no Black Mountain, TV On The Radio or Dead Meadow slice of Americana revisited, instead steeped in British rock history, no doubt that of their boho-island home, as well as the reflective trends of modern British pop.
Alistair Erskine
