Jets to Brazil: Perfecting Loneliness

Remember when Jets to Brazil were just starting out? How excited everyone was to hear Blake Schwarzenbachs’ new band; especially since Chris Daly of Texas is the Reason, Jeremy Chatelain of Handsome, and Jade Tree were backing him. When Orange Rhyming Dictionary came out, it was going to be the ultimate vehicle for Blake’s broken hearted genius; and it almost was. Although the album was not the earth-shattering affair some thought it would be, it contained enough glimpses of brilliance to make up for the few less than stellar tracks. How were we to know that those snags would develop into the lameness that would be Four Cornered Night? Like that can’t miss college prospect that somehow misses at the professional level, Jets to Brazil seemed to have lost their way on their sophomore effort. Instead of flawlessly merging punk’s edge with brit-pops melodies and dynamics, the band seems intent on writing power-pop ballads. Even worst, rather than developing their own sound on Four Cornered Night, the Jets tried a little too hard to be something they’re not. Which brings the band to a crossroad: Are they the upstarts who demonstrated so much potential on their debut, or are they intent on boring us to death with piano ballads?

Their latest release, Perfecting Loneliness, immediately addresses some of the problems that were prevalent on its predecessor. The opening track, “The Frequency”, is a bombastic rager, as Blake seems to have rediscovered that he sounds better pissed and slightly contemplative as opposed to overly contemplative and not pissed at all. “You’re the One I Want” keeps the pace as the Jets show that they’ve got melody to spare and hooks to boot, taking you on a fantastic ride. Two songs in, and suddenly it’s easy to forgive Four Cornered Night as bad turn by a band trying to grow. Things begin to slow down on “Cat Heaven”, but the lads are up to the task as the chords unfold like waves of honey. The title track then kicks in with crunchy guitar riffs, as the band almost gets funky, before turning into the kind of song that would make Johnny Marr proud. The Jets continue to soar on “Lucky Charm”, as Blake croons over the laziest western guitar riff that could ever be called beautiful. Five songs down and it seems as if Jets are on their way to writing the album they’ve always been destined to write — and then the bottom falls out.

Tracks six through nine are absolutely inexplicable to me. It’s as if the band is saying “if you thought Four Cornered Night was boring and uninspired, wait till you see this”. Just when you think they’ve turned the corner, they turn into Chicago, complete with cheesy progressions that are supposed let you know how much they care. The amazing thing is that this seems to be what Jets to Brazil are striving for. Blake still brings it lyrically, proving that he’s not just mailing it in, and the playing is flawless as every member of Jets proves to be more than proficient with their instruments. Unfortunately, they’re content on playing music for 30-somethings who think anything with guitars rock. However, before you write them off, they throw in a real cracker of a song with “Disgrace”, easily the best on this album. On the seven-minute finale, “Rocket Boy”, the band manages to effectively pull off a stunning ballad as the song quietly builds towards its climax. If that were the only song if its type, it would serve as an excellent ending. Instead, its ambition is muted by the fact that too many songs on this album hover around five to six minutes and the albums’ meanderings take away its punch.

Jets to Brazil have seemingly split the difference on the first two albums, producing some gems along with some of the schmaltziest tracks to come out of Brooklyn. The press release that came with this talks of Jets to Brazil “having stepped out of the long, tall shadow of being ‘a super group’ and grown into simply being ‘a band'”. Well, I for one think that’s a damn shame. Jets should be a ‘super group’ because they are capable of being one. Instead of being run of the mill, they should strive to write the kinds of songs that shine like the stars that these four men will always be meant to be. On Perfecting Loneliness, Jets to Brazil seem to be inching closer to the record their fans keep expecting them to write, now it’s time for them to step up and finally become the band they should’ve been four years ago.