Magical Mystery Tour

MYSTERY JETS
WORDS: Harriet Gibsone

“It’s really a make or break thing.” Harriet Gibsone encounters Mystery Jets at the end of a very personal trilogy…

It’s October 2009 and, sat in London’s British Grove Studios, The Fly is surrounded by Mystery Jets. Here to listen to early mixes from their third album, the band, their manager, PR and producer are watching on as songs from what will become ‘Serotonin’ blast out of the speakers. The follow-up to 2008’s ‘Twenty One’ is halfway towards completion, and, as they peer, we’re thinking how best to convey that the four songs we hear are really, truly, honestly the greatest songs Mystery Jets have ever written. “You have to say that – don’t you?” moustachioed drummer Kapil Trivedi says. Well, yeah, in this situation, we probably do, but we mean it – these are the most epic and engaging compositions they’ve penned so far in their five-year career – Mystery Jets have come of age. Even unfinished versions of ‘It’s Too Late’ and ‘Lorna Doone’ suggest their third album will be a leap on from the synth sweetness of ‘Twenty One’ and an aeon from the wonderfully ramshackle ‘Making Dens’. The songs are a significant step up, and, in the hands of producer Chris Thomas, veer into the sort of classic British pop territory not inhabited since the heady days of Blur and Pulp. “We’d record a song in the space of three days and spend the next day doing 50 takes because we were doing it all live,” frontman Blaine Harrison explains. “By the time we got to a take we liked, we just wouldn’t stop until we’d mixed it, so after three days we’d have a mixed song that would be ready to be mastered. It’s kind of an old school way of working; Chris likes to use the studio. It felt satisfying in a way because every time it feels like one in the bag.” From that first listen of four songs, flecks of Fleetwood Mac, 10cc and, yep, Pulp glisten throughout, the ‘Jets abandoning their kitscher moments in favour of a bigger, bolder resonance, but the main thing that’s evident is that their style isn’t restricted to one genre, it’s a mixed bag of influences from Jesus And Mary Chain to John Cale and Roxy Music; an invigorating and mature progression.

A few months later, in the midst of January’s doom and gloom, we catch up with Blaine again to talk about wrappingup the album; it’s now complete and his perspective on the band’s career is carefully considered. “‘Twenty One’ kind of stripped back a lot of the sound that we had on the first album, back to the bones, because we kind of felt like our songs were shrouded in things, that maybe you couldn’t hear what the song was underneath; we wanted to put some of the meat back on the bones,” he explains. In Thomas, they found a producer perfectly poised to serve up some wildebeest proportioned flesh – he is, after all, the knob twiddler behind Pulp’s ‘This Is Hardcore’, Sex Pistol’s ‘Never Mind The Bollocks’ and Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’. “‘Dark Side Of The Moon’ was the first record I was ever given so it meant a lot to me to work with someone who’d been a part of my musical upbringing,” Blaine reveals. “It was a huge decision factor you know, I guess sometimes you get offers to work with producers and you think, ‘Well they’ve sold a lot of records’, but with Chris, everything he’s done is completely flawless – apart from the odd Razorlight record!” After forming close bonds with James Ford on their debutand Erol Alkan on its follow-up, they ended up holidaying with ‘Serotonin’’s Thomas – whoever Blaine & co. work with become, as it were, a part of the family. “It’s not just someone who’s going to sprinkle magic dust on the songs. We want to work with people who want to come into the inner circle with us,” Blaine confides.

Four months later on a rainy day in June, we meet up again. ‘Serotonin’ is only weeks away from coming out and, sitting in a West London pub, the quartet are itching for its release. “I just want to get it out there now. It’s been behind closed doors for too long. We’re ready to push…” Blaine excitedly exclaims, letting out a guttural “huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!!!!” “The contractions are coming. We’re in labour! Actually we should say we’re in Tory now shouldn’t we?” guitarist Will Rees responds. Although still very much full of boyish enthusiasm and humour, Mystery Jets seem to have grown up considerably (NME once described them as looking like a “rag-tag band of villainous tinkers from an old episode of Scooby Doo” – now they’re nailing a kind of Yacht Rock finesse). More defined in style and sound, Mystery Jets have matured – and shaken off their youthful gimmicks – without losing any of the uniqueness that made them so endearing when they emerged from Eel Pie Island back in 2005. Henry, Blaine’s dad, is still very much “in the pocket” and still writes with the band but he has taken on a “very ethereal role, like this ghost that pops up.”

The links with Laura Marling, Eel Pie Island or ironic 80s outfits have elso been erased. Was it a deliberate decision? “Yeah, it was a conscious thing on this album, we almost purposely didn’t give people something to write about” Blaine defiantly clarifies. “You know, the only question we used to get asked was ‘What was working with Laura Marling like?!’”. “And that 80s thing on ‘Two Doors Down’,” he continues, “that turned into something we didn’t want it to. People can be lazy. So, with the new album I think we definitely wanted it to sound expansive, widescreen. When we came out a lot of bands we listened to were prog bands, orchestral 70s rock bands. With ‘Twenty One’, we wanted to cut that away and master the art of making sounds. And what we’ve come back to is making something strong…” “…Like a man” Kapil says, snapping the earnest tone in half brilliantly. It’s not just a new sound the band return with, but a new label. After Atlantic suddenly dropped them at the peak of ‘Twenty One’’s success, the band signed with Rough Trade; the circumstances could have thwarted their career, instead, however, it turned out to be “the best thing that’s ever happened.” “We started out on a label that we shouldn’t have been on,” bassist Kai Fish offers. “I think it was at the right stage too, it was good for Rough Trade because we’d already been out there already so [Atlantic] dropped us at the highest point in our career. So it was perfect for Rough Trade and perfect for us. It really raised our confidence. The only losers in the whole thing were Warners,” Kai shrugs. “To be honest, they deserved it because the English Warners wanted to carry it on but the people in America didn’t know who Mystery Jets were and they made that decision. It didn’t make any sense.” “I think the band’s longevity probably comes back to us all being friends since we were in short trousers. We were called the Mystery Jets years before any label had the faintest idea of what we were doing, and we’ve been on four of them, which I don’t think that many British groups our age can say,” Blaine adds. “Getting dropped is the kiss of death for nine out of ten bands, but if you give a shit about one another and believe in what you set out to do, you don’t sit on your arse whinging about it do you? You dust yourself off and come back twice as hard. Basically, you have to channel your inner Mark E. Smith.” It marks Mystery Jets out as a band whose links stretch out further than rehearsal rooms and studios – being in their company, a genuine closeness is apparent. “I think it’s incredibly fortunate to be in a band with the same people so intensely for such a long time, without any casualties. It’s huge. It’s really a make or break thing,” Blaine continues. “You’re either going to get really close if there’s too much pressure you or you can crack – I think that’s why a lot of bands don’t exist anymore, why they’ve fallen by the wayside. Obviously we get better musically but that comes through friendship anyway. Without that, you’re fucked.”

With wads of critical acclaim and a clutch of Top 40 singles already, do they feel ‘Serotonin’ could be their biggest album to date? “It should be, it’s got the best songs on. I think I’m most proud about this album. It’s a record we’ve already had in us from the start. We’ve reached the end of our trilogy,” Blaine says. “It does feel like the end of a trilogy. That’s really true. We’ve only got here by doing those two albums.” adds Kai. “In so many ways, lyrically, art-wise and sound wise. We just feel like better songwriters. And it’s a culmination of time, we started the band and we’ve been out of school for almost ten years,” Will states, “and I think there’s been a bubbling feeling to move somewhere else. Make our ‘Kid A’. Which is weird because we shouldn’t be saying that now as we’re just about to start an 18-month tour of this album but I think we all know that to stay excited about being in the Mystery Jets we need to go somewhere for the next album. I don’t even  know where…” Truly, the words of a band who’ve mastered a definable art-pop swagger. Two days later, we head down to Brighton for a sun-drenched, clear blue sky photoshoot, where afterwards they perform a super-intimate gig on Brighton Pier. Their set is endlessly joyous, and, for a band who have been in the studio for the best part of twelve months, they sound flawlessly harmonised and gloriously succinct. Songs like ‘Young Love’ and ‘Half In Love With Elizabeth’ are met with exalted cheers, whilst ‘Hideaway’ and ‘Serotonin’ ignite a bolshie, euphoric, party atmosphere. But could it be that there’s more up their sleeves beyond their indie rock roots? “I think that is the test and I think we’d like to believe we could make something like ‘Kid A’,” says Kai, echoing Will. “And try our hardest to do that. If we could do something even vaguely similar I think we’d feel like we’d achieved something ourselves. Sell some albums. That would be good. Then tear it all up and do something completely different.” With a trilogy now complete and their sublime bond proving unshakable, it’s certain that there’s absolutely nothing but green lights on the horizon for Mystery Jets.

‘Serotonin’ is released on Rough Trade on July 5th.