JETthefuckingband.com new looks!
Autor: Andrea Leonel | Publicado: 2011-10-21T17:07:00-07:00

So, as you probably noticed we've got a new cleaner look and a new layout! We got sick of all the black, dark stuff. Also, we've got a new domain, we're now Jetthefuckingband.com, like it used to be. Lastly, there's a new tool on the website where you can share our posts on Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, Orkut or through e-mail. It's right there above the comments part.

We hope we can improve the website as the time goes and we're glad to take your suggestions!

Moving on, Damndogs are currently in NYC playing for the CMJ Festival but so far we didn't come accross anything on their latest gigs. Therefore, we're gonna continuing our interviews post and this one is from Ausralia's The Age: 



Eclectic canines learn new tricks 


MARK Wilson lowers his head in mock shame. The musician, best known as the bass player for the multimillion-selling Melbourne band Jet, has committed a social media faux pas in helping to launch his new group, Damndogs. An extra keystroke on the registration screen and the band is profiled on Facebook as Damn Dogs, a typo that is not amended easily.

''If more than 100 people like you on Facebook, you can't change your name,'' Wilson says, sitting outside a Brunswick cafe as his border collie, Sailor, bounds around. ''You have to write to the company and ask them to fix it for you. That's one of the problems with doing everything yourself - you have to take the blame for your mistakes.''

Online blemishes aside, Wilson is excited about the band, which sees him playing alongside Jet's drummer, Chris Cester, who steps out from behind his kit to serve as frontman, keyboardist Louis Macklin and guitarist Mitch McIvor. The tightly bound four-piece - Macklin has toured with Jet, while McIvor is Cester's cousin and best friend - are about to follow up their debut shows in Los Angeles, where Cester lives with his partner and child, with Melbourne and Sydney gigs. They also have an exceptional EP awaiting release.
Advertisement: Story continues below

Wilson and Cester's connection as a rhythm section shines through Damndogs' initial handful of songs, where lean, pronounced grooves that recall punk rock's discovery of dub and disco provide the foundation for sparse, expressive guitar licks and atmospheric keyboards. The verses of Very First Century suggest Ian Dury and the Blockheads and the chorus Beck, while Cocaine is a suitably murky jam that recalls Happy Mondays' melding of indie music and acid house.

Damndogs' eclectic sound sits in plain contrast to Jet's embrace of rock'n'roll tradition and with the latter on an extended hiatus - ''We talk regularly but we don't have anything planned,'' Wilson says - the former is working towards recording a debut album and touring widely next year. This should disperse the usual concerns about side projects being no more than enjoyable diversions.

''We're taking this seriously; it's not just a project for fun. This is our new thing,'' Wilson says. ''A lot of people will be challenged by it. If someone likes Damndogs, it's definitely possible they'll never have cared for Jet … We want that. We didn't want to put out something that was essentially the same.''

The idea for the group has been gestating for years. Cester and McIvor decided to start a band while on holiday in Morocco several years ago (a pack of stray dogs they saw inspired the name), while Wilson and Cester talked about the nascent outfit's aesthetic at length throughout the touring for Jet's third album, 2009's Shaka Rock.

Afterwards, emails carried ideas back and forth, as tracks were cut up and reassembled in various time zones. ''Chris has been dying to be a frontman for years,'' Wilson laughs.

For the bassist, this is also something of a coming of age. Having been the last member to join Jet, arriving in 2002 as their career trajectory was about to go vertical thanks to Are You Gonna Be My Girl, he spent his 20s finding his feet through repeated album and tour cycles. Now, with his hair slicked back and sporting an aristocratic van Dyke beard, Wilson looks and sounds ready for the spotlight.

''We've got our fingers in all the pies,'' he says. ''We don't have a record deal and, while we've been talking to people, we don't care if we don't have one. We're happy to do it all ourselves. We sort our own gear, figure when to rehearse, stay at each other's house to save money. We're working with various people but no one's putting it all on a schedule for us.

''It's a lot easier starting a band the second time,'' Wilson says with a smile. ''Because you actually know what you're doing.''