Burning A Hole Through Your Heart

Mystery Jets like to play around. Their videos are never what you’d expect them to be, their albums always have a twist. They sing about “young loves” that were never meant to be, about hungry smiles and different worlds. They’re the kind of boys who look too young for their own good but are at the exact place in their lives where maturity and immaturity intertwine to create a perfect mix of wisdom. Their past albums have always been like this and Serotonin is no exception.

It’s the playfulness of Flash A Hungry Smile. Its silly whistling, its opening line (“When you walk into the room/Girls growl, boys swoon”), its youthful guitars, all make for a twee and teeny piece that will send you three steps back into adolescence and give you butterflies in your stomach. It’s the heart-felt devotion of the album’s intro, Alice Springs, with its “I’d stand in the line of fire for you” and exuberant guitar riffs. It’s the whispered emotions of Serotonin and the line “burning a hole through my heart”, a love story that sounds like never before. It’s the high-pitched voice on Melt, bluesy-paranoid guitars and pure unaltered promises of love. “All I wanna do is melt, melt, melt into you”.

But it’s the darkness of Dreaming Of Another World, with its slow-disco and indie-pop and desire to leave it all behind. “It’s a sorry tale when the dream turns stale”. The slow-paced keyboard of Too Late To Talk, Blaine Harrison’s admittance that it’s time to grow up, its 70s rock vibe and the reverbs that get lots in the twinkles and choir. It’s the bad taste you get in your mouth after carefully listening to Girl Is Gone, its bitter sweet chimes, big pounding heart-like drums and the defining line “But I was wrong thinking I’d be strong”.

Still, most of the times, Mystery Jets like to brush off all the worries and see how they can make it all better. Like the tribal Show Me The Light and its refusal to give in to the hardships of the world and adulthood. The swirling guitars of Waiting On A Miracle, how it has hope deep in its back bone even in the gloomiest of times. The way Lady Grey gets you up the chair, singing along every line, jumping on the bed in colourful leg warmers, feeling sorry John Hughes is no longer around to use it on the soundtrack of his films. And all this despite its story (“Lady Grey, you’re just the kind of mess I’m looking for”).

And it’s how Lorna Doone wraps it all up. “You’ve been running away from what you feel inside” musses Blaine as if to himself. The shimmering cymbals, the high-pitched vocals, the web of feedback in the back that is slowly closing in, taking over, enhancing the claustrophobia only to end abruptly. While some albums seem too long, while others are too hermetic, Serotonin is a brief yet complete and accurate trip into the world Mystery Jets want us to dream about. It’s not a gigantic change but they are most definitely evolving and slowly taking their rightful place among Britain’s most talented bands.