Jet w/the Living End

Tues April 13, Moore, 7:30 pm, $19.

Among the rock bands hyped to take over the universe in 2002 was a group of hyperactive Australians who did not merit such quick acclaim. Associated, for some reason, with the White Stripes and the Strokes, the Vines had a hit single, "Get Free," and sold a ton of records, but they were clearly less innovative and somewhat manufactured.

The members of the Vines met in high school while working at McDonald's and began churning out Nirvana covers at friends' parties. Not long after, they were splashed across the covers of international music magazines fishing around for the next big thing. But it turns out that lead Vine Craig Nicholls--known for chucking instruments around the stage and being a very photogenic brat--was just an excessively stoned dullard. (Check out Spin's recent cover story on the Vines, in which the author wants to deck Nicholls for being such a rotten interview subject.)

And the Vines prove convincingly on their sophomore washout, Winning Days, that they are merely a lot of clamor backed up by very little substance. It's kind of a noisy record, but perhaps not noisy enough. There are some light pop touches that work, but eventually these numbers drag into tediousness. Very little is distinctive about any of the tunes on this album, which stinks like moldy bread hiding in the back of a refrigerator.

But let's forget the Vines. We already have.

Another band bursting onto the scene from that koala-clinging country down under is Jet, who made their first splash in America when their song "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" was featured in an iPod advertisement. It's a funny, very contemporary way for a rock band to hit it big, having a song in a popular commercial before anyone has heard of them. At least it wasn't an SUV ad.

Plucked from Melbourne and signed to Elektra on the heels of the Vines' success, Jet nailed the coveted musical slot on Saturday Night Live, mostly because of that commercial. And they rocked that late-night stage pretty hard.

These Jet kids are young--singer-guitarist Nic Cester is 24, while his brother, drummer Chris Cester, is 21--but their musical tastes go back a bit further than Nirvana. The Cester brothers were schooled on the Easybeats, the Who, the Faces, and the Rolling Stones, whom they particularly worship. The classic rock that fuels their potent sound is not the pretentious swagger of Robert Plant or wanky prog rock, but the dirty, denim-clad blues rock of the Stones' most classic records, as well as the beer-soaked hollering of AC/DC. Jet add speed and attitude to these moldy oldies, creating songs that are fiery and unsullied.

Any number of songs on their scorching debut, Get Born, could be singles; "Cold Hard Bitch," one of the album's first singles, sounds like an instant hit--straightforward, impassioned in its own simple way, and with a funny title. It sounds perfect for classic rock station playlists, if any of them are willing to broadcast a song that repeats the word "bitch."

With some aplomb, Cester yelps, "Gonna hang around until there's nobody dancing/don't want to hold hands and talk about our little plans/all right/cold hard bitch, just a kiss on the lips and I was on my knees/I'm waiting, give me/cold hard bitch she was shaking her hips that was all that I need." Those lyrics are pretty damn rock 'n' roll without any posing, thank you. Plenty of new bands claim to rock, but do it in a way that's so inoffensive and sexless that John Ashcroft might approve.

In addition to their boot-to-the-groin rock numbers, Jet can also pull off sweet-sounding, grandiose pop tunes. "Look What You've Done" sounds like an Oasis cover with its plaintive piano and hooky chorus. On Jet's Britpop-style ballads, Cester borrows his vocal style generously from Liam Gallagher, and these songs are quite a departure from the full-on garage-rock tunes, where his voice is rougher with a hint of AC/DC's Brian Johnson.

These guys can cough up ballads and ballsy rockers with equal conviction, but the Vines are not able to execute either with much success. Which group of Aussies will still be around a year or five years from now? Probably not the bratty, pretty-boy band; more likely, the iPod one.

editor@thestranger.com