«What if we made rock 'n' roll that people can dance to?» interview with Jet's frontman

Nic Cester enters the room wearing a pale yellow Hawaiian shirt, a white linen jacket ("it's Saint Laurent" he confides to me off camera), tortoiseshell Moscot glasses, and mahogany loafers. The look is not what you would expect from a rock star, perhaps more like a vintage-loving family man on vacation, as confirmed by the blonde little girl who follows him into the room shortly after and looks strikingly like him. First impressions can sometimes be true: Cester doesn't care about clichés, nor about being a rock star, in fact, he probably never has. Sitting on the couch, he talks about his fascination with De André, Battisti, and Beniamino Gigli, which led him to leave Australia and settle in Italy. He shares the most surreal anecdotes from his career, gives us some advice on what one should or shouldn't do while on tour. When I ask him to sing Are you gonna be my girl? for the camera, he chuckles slyly and replies, "no fucking way". He is honest, amused, a bit unpredictable, and even vaguely enthusiastic when talking about the return of Jet, the band he founded at twenty with his brother Chris in Melbourne, and which will be holding two dates for the Italian public: September 26 at Alcatraz in Milan, September 27 at Orion in Rome. "We are writing new music, but it's not a cheap revival. Fans wonder what a Jet song would sound like after twenty years off the scene. It sounds exactly as it should", reveals Nic. But let's start from the beginning.

On September 14, you celebrate the twenty-first anniversary of Get Born, the album that established you as a cult band of the 2000s. What was it like experiencing such immediate success with that record after years of hard work?

Our career was unusual for many reasons. When we started, we were very young, too young to play in any Melbourne venue, which created an interesting dynamic: we had to focus on writing songs and improving our performance. When we finally were old enough to play in pubs, we made an immediate impact because we were ready. Jet is a phenomenon that is hard to explain. With Get Born, it felt like all the planets were perfectly aligned: we were good, sure, but there were other factors that contributed to our success. There are many talented bands out there, but not all of them manage to succeed, you know?

And when did you realize that you were really succeeding? Was there a specific moment, an epiphany?

That's an interesting question, but I don't want to come across as heavy or get lost in conjectures.

No, please, let's get lost in conjectures.

It all boils down to a simple question: what does "success" mean to you? When you're 20, you're quite superficial and think that fame will bring happiness, but it's not true. Over the years, the word success has taken on a more ordinary nature for me: spending enough time with my daughter, writing a song you're proud of, even if it's not listened to as much as you'd like.

Speaking of songs to be proud of, can you tell us about the genesis of Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

At that time, in the late '90s, the grunge scene was declining and nobody was really listening to rock 'n roll anymore, which is the music we grew up with, while electronic music was already in the air. We thought: "What if we made rock and roll that people could dance to?"

What's your relationship with that song now? Many artists hate their biggest hits.

I'll never play that song at home, but I never get tired of the reaction it gets when we perform it live.

And how does it feel to be back with Jet after years apart?

Again, it feels like there was another planetary alignment. I started spending more time in Australia and reconnecting with the other guys. We were inducted into the Hall of Fame, and it was the twentieth anniversary of Get Born. Every band has a unique alchemy, and ours has its own mix of fire and friction. Despite the challenges, we've managed to keep it together. The tour was fun, and we're working on new songs that sound like a natural evolution of our music, which is really exciting because from the beginning I said I wasn't interested in doing it if it was going to be a low-quality revival, like so many around. It had to be pure, honest, adding something to the narrative. Fans wonder what a Jet song would sound like after twenty years off the scene: it sounds exactly as it should.

Part of the planetary alignment seems to be the timing of the project itself. Are we experiencing a rock revival?

I have no idea, you know? I just listen to Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra while cooking (laughs).

There's an anecdote about your career that struck me, that surreal 48-hour audition for AC/DC. Can you tell it again?

I had just landed in Australia from Italy to spend some time with my family and had terrible jet lag. Brian Johnson had just left AC/DC, and my father-in-law was reading the news in the paper when he turned to me: "Did you see this?" And we both burst out laughing, I remember saying: "I wouldn't want to be the guy who takes his place." Just ten minutes later my phone rings and they offer me an audition. I thought I had to try it, even just for the experience. They flew me to Atlanta, where the tour had stopped, worsening my jet lag even more. The auditions were secret, in a very small studio that made a tremendous racket. There were eight singers in total, some of them from AC/DC cover bands, there was even Axl Rose.

Axl Rose, really?

Yes, he even came to compliment me, he said: "man, I just want you to know that I've been here all week listening, and you did an amazing job because all the others were pretty bad." So I thought: "Damn, maybe I could get this job." Especially when they told me to come back the next day. But the jet lag was really terrible and Angus was trying to test my mettle under pressure, he said: "Learn these songs tonight." It's never happened to me before in my life, but I was so tired that I couldn't retain any information. If I read a sheet of paper, it was like it disappeared; I just couldn't memorize anything. So yes, it was 48 hours of extreme, extreme...

Survival?

It was so intense. I mean everything: the fatigue, the volume, the pressure, everything at its maximum for 48 hours.

Do you have a ritual before going on stage?

Kings of Leon had a song they sang every day before going on stage, while we were on tour, to make fun of them, we said, "We have a song too" and then made up this song called Elton John which just went "Elton John, Elton John, Elton John, Elton John", on repeat. What started as a stupid joke became a kind of ritual. Then we stopped doing it.

What's something you should never do on tour?

Never take a dump on a bus, especially if there are twenty other people. It's the golden rule.

Thanks for the honesty.

Honesty is fun.