It’s a dark, Wachowski-esque apocalyptic week. And, I hate to be the badger of bad news, but here it goes:
It all started last night at spinning class. I try my best and, typically, I can tolerate the Flo Rida, Pink, and Lady Ga Ga tracks played. But, when that fucking “Are You Gonna Be My Girl?” song by Australian band Jet plays, I angrily want to throw my exercise bike at the gym mirror, rip off my clothes, and cut myself all over with a shard of glass in the sauna as the cops try to talk me out of the room.
This is a natural reaction and not a slight at all to Jet, who composed what my pastor called, “The worst fucking feces of a song I’ve ever heard.” Seriously, hearing that song for the billionth time really weighed heavy on my mind all night. “Why is that song still everywhere?” “Why do I see people bob their head to it?” “Why God, why?”
So you can imagine my surprise when I heard the news the next morning that Jet had broken up. According to Pitchfork, the band announced their fallout on their website with the concluding statement:
After many successful years of writing, recording and touring we wish to announce our discontinuation as a group. From the many pubs, theatres, stadiums and festivals all across the world it was the fans that made our amazing story possible and we wish to thank them all. Thank you, and goodnight.
It is stated in their press release that Jet plan to keep their “music, legacy and brand alive through new licensing, publishing, merchandise, re-records [sic] and releases.” You bastards! Build me up to knock me right back down again. Really though I shouldn’t revel so much in their demise (even though they kind of deserve it), and who could forget the time when playing Rock Band with me where I sang the words, “Big black boots,” as, “Big black boobs.” It garnered laughs. And, for that, I thank you, Jet. See you in hell.