THE MYSTERY JETS’ likely large(r) scale success is one of the things that heartens this writer where humanity is concerned. Let’s face it: it’s not often you come across a band who live in a cool place (Eel Pie Island), have a game plan which involves one of their Dads’ playing in the group, rip up most of the stylistic rule books, receive acres of good press AND actually sell some records into the bargain.
As your reviewer scribbles, said Dad Henry Harrison has just appeared in one of the Sunday Times’ supplement magazines with his son Blaine in that series involving parents and their talented offspring. That’s probably a sign that ver Jets are about to be accepted on a wider scale, but for once surely that’s a good thing?
Well, it certainly is if “The Boy Who Ran Away” is any yardstick to judge by. From the feverishly-anticipated debut album “Making Dens” (only just around the corner, folks), it’ yet another full-pelt, poppy-groovy-Prog-gy affair with Dexys-style horns, the catch-all attitude The Clash displayed so magnificently with “London Calling” condensed into a single song and more heavenly harmonies and tambourines than should, by rights, be allowed in a public place. Oh, and it’s got judicious use of a melodica on its’ side too: the hallmark of genius if ever there was.
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So there you go: irresistible single number four on the trot. Wheel out the album and let the full scale adulation begin.
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