Chris Cester: ‘You Become Somewhat Of A Cliche’

Not that you were worried about what Chris Cester thinks of you, but he’s also not worried about what you think of him. “Oh, I don’t give a shit about that,” he laughs, when I point out that M+N isn’t exactly the Jet Superfans Clubhouse. “I’ve sold out Madison Square Garden. Those shitheads can say whatever they like. And you can put that in your article if you want … Whatever man. Fuck, Barack Obama hasn’t heard their fucking song. So they can kiss my arse.”

Cester’s not a Gallagheresque cockhead, despite how that comment, made at the tail-end of this interview, sounds. He’s friendly and candid and says these things with the matter-of-factness of a man who made peace with outrageous success a long time ago. Cester may have been in one of the biggest Australian rock bands in recent memory, but with the announcement last month that Jet – who had been lying low since pretty-OK third album Shaka Rock – were calling it quits, he’s concentrating solely on moody new project DAMNDOGS, starting (almost) from scratch.

Cester, who manned the drums in Jet and left frontman duties to brother Nic, is now at the helm. The band have only released a five song EP, Strange Behaviour, but on the strength of those tracks, they were able to pack out Oxford Art Factory when they returned to test the waters last winter. Industry types and fans of both Cester’s projects flooded out of that gig, nodding sagely as others proclaimed with varying degrees of relief, disappointment, facetiousness, faint praise, “Well, it’s nothing like Jet.”

Cester is no dummy. He’s well aware that it’s the association with Jet that gets him more interest than other electro-rock acts making noises around Laurel Canyon studios. He’s resigned to the inevitable, incorrect prefix, “Jet side project”, as well. And while this is a new chapter for him, he can’t seem to help highlighting the contrasts between his current situation and his old one. After all, the cord has only just been cut.