MYSTERY JETS

Electric Ballroom.Camdentown.London.UK

Wednesday.10.May.2006

photo courtesy of nme.com

Camdentown, a borough directly north of Central London, is the vibrant gathering place for much of London's hip twenty-something population. Filled with both indoor and outdoor markets by day, Camden changes when the sun goes down. Once the venders pack up their goods, the area takes on a whole new life. Musicians en route to a gig or rehearsal tote instruments up and down the high street. Pubs and bars fill up, people spill out of the tube stop and loiter to smoke a cigarette while waiting for a mate or two. Though a wee bit seedy (dealers advertise coke to passerby on the street), Camden is one of the hottest spots to go out. Where else can you see hair cut in a euro-mullet or styled so that – even after extreme examination – passerby still cannot be sure of the logistics of it.

The Electric Ballroom, a venue right next to the tube stop, is no different than the rest of Camden . Once the racks of polka-dot adorned dresses, military-style jackets, and bootlegged CDs are cleared out after the day's market, the Ballroom turns music venue.

The Spinto Band warmed the already-eager crowd up with its energy and on-stage antics that include dancing like the nerdy white boys that they are, jumping around, sharing mics, doing the robot horribly…oh yeah, and they played some good music, too! These are some Americans the Brits don't mind giving a fair chance.

The Mystery Jets' live show is, much like the band's debut album, “Making Dens,” hard to pin down. The collection of songs is strikingly eclectic, ranging from emotional ballads with a strong, slow pulse, to hyper-chaotic compositions.

The band came onstage and the procedure of situating themselves into their instruments was rather unorthodox. Drummer in back, guitarist and bassist on stage left, fair enough so far. I was caught off-guard when a young man with unkempt, uneven, curly red hair was helped to a partial drumset situated front and center on the stage. At the same time, another member appeared from stage right who looked old enough that he should be helped onstage as well. While maybe that's an exaggeration, what I later learned about this odd couple shed a lot of light on a curious first impression. Twenty-year-old lead singer/songwriter Blaine Harrison has been afflicted by spina bifida from birth and leads the band (which includes her dear old pop, Henry Harrison, on keyboard) from his drumkit stool.

The “What am I in for?” feeling soon turned to familiar recognition as the band eased themselves into the set with, what else, the introduction to their album. A clever patchwork of clips from their own songs (almost like an operatic overture?), the introduction launches energetically into “You Can't Fool Me Dennis,” the band's current single as well as the first tune on the album. Sing-along friendly, the song captured the whole crowd from the get-go. Though simplistically repetitive, the song evolves through different phases until it seamlessly leads to “Purple Prose.” It did seem a bit odd that the Mystery Jets chose to play the first three tracks from the album as the first three tracks of their live set. But, really, when it works so well on the album, why do it any differently in performance? The songs flow well together and encourage the crowd to respond by energetically singing and dancing.

Throughout the evening, it was impossible to avert one's focus from Blaine . He was quite a sight – one I can still clearly conjure in my memory – perched on the stool, haphazardly creating percussive sounds that fit exactly into the collaboration, changing instruments between drums, guitar, bass guitar, tambourine, even cowbell. As he leaned over to reach the mic and cocked his head in time with the music, his unbelievably pale skin was illuminated under the bright stage lights and that mess of hair on his head took on a persona of its own. A new kind of frontman was born…

Admittedly, some of the slower songs caused a bit of lost momentum along the way, though the band are definitely capable of delivering driven ballads like “Soluble in Air,” “Making Dens,” and “Horse Drawn Cart” (but “Little Bag of Hair” just wasn't entertaining). The group picked up again with “The Boy Who Ran Away” and “Diamond in the Dark.” Of course, my personal favourite was “Alas Agnes,” a franticly-paced story of a boy with a broken heart and loads of issues involving gender-confusion.

Even with all these great songs, it soon became apparent that all of us were waiting for one in particular. “ZOO-TIME!! ZOO-TIME!! ZOO-TIME!!” the crowd shouted in unison between the last few songs. Anyone unfamiliar with the phenomenon would have been scared away, I think. Leaving the stage for a break before the encore gave Blaine the chance to change shirts and re-enter, sporting a mutilated black tee with ZOOTIME graffitied boldly over the front in white. No one is surprised when – finally – the crowd's appropriately animalistic chant is joined by the band. A wicked-low synth bassline, amp feedback, and dreamy guitar licks are married with random screeching, crashing symbols, and good ole cowbell…it feels almost like the band are exploding onstage during this chaotic climax to another great night up Camden.

<<Kelly "Don't believe the truth" Duoos>> spent a semester in London studying mostly bands, sometimes books.