The Vines, Jet
The Roxy, Atlanta
March 13th, 2004
By Leila Regan

Two Bands do not an Invasion make.

The British Invasion. The Scandinavian Invasion. All such infiltrations of America’s music business were conducted with more than a few bands. Yet we have a tour with two (OK, three counting XXX) Australian bands and all of a sudden it is an invasion.

Still, with the ruckus that Jet made any audience could well be persuaded that there was a bloodthirsty army out to catch our ears. We all know there is nothing new there: Based on those old rhythm ‘n’ blues chords exploited so well by groups like the Rolling Stones and the Who, Jet’s sound is beyond their years. But good old fashioned rock ‘n’ roll hardly ever sounds as good nowadays as when these boys from down under kick out their jams.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, singer Cameron Muncey layers his vocals over the thundering AC/DC-like guitar of Nic Cester and the bluesy bass of Mark Wilson. It’s a wonder that they last the whole night.

Complete with Pete Townsend arm-swinging, Cester looks effortlessly cool as Muncey belts out his gravely scream teetering on the edge of outright howling. School of Rock's Jack Black would be proud.

Their arena-style power rock infused with Kinks/Who tunefulness becomes less of an overdone style of music and more like the rock show we all yearn for in our lives. Apparently all we ever needed was four blues chords, a quick thudding beat, easy to learn lyrics (count how many words there really are in 'Are You Gonna Be My Girl?') and pure fire-hot energy.

If only the same could be said for the Vines. Though still capable of thrashing out a damn good tune, after the initial energy of opening song 'Outtathaway,' the togetherness of the band – emotionally, not musically – comes into question.

Looking even skinnier and paler than he ever did, Craig Nicholls appears to not even realize there is an audience in front of him. Continuing with the usual antics of running into the microphone stand, speaking unintelligibly between songs and abandoning all preconceived notions of tune for his own crazy rules of screaming in pain with his eyes rolled back in his head, one cannot help to wonder whenever this boy is presented: Is everything alright with Nicholls?

But, despite the bands stage presence and Nicholls’ outrageous singing habits, the music is churned out with remarkable energy and succinct togetherness. The songs themselves sound tight and powerful, although constantly overshadowed by their singer’s overbearing issues. But if this is all we will be provided for an invasion in Australian rock music, America will have to settle for a light prodding.

www.thevines.com | www.jettheband.com