Jet

Roughly twenty-five years ago, in a country, far, far away - Australia in fact - in the oddly named outer Melbourne suburb of Dingley, two angelic looking brothers came in to the world. One would assemble the family's pots and pans in the backyard and deliver savage sonic bombardments along with the Beatles 'Mean Mr. Mustard'. The other would caterwaul along to vintage soul and R&B like a boy possessed. As it transpired, it was not only Nic and Chris Cester making a racket within the quiet confines of the kind of suburbs that spawned AC/DC and The Easybeats. A two hour drive up the highway, a dashing young Geelong resident by the name of Mark Wilson, destined for a career teaching history,...

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