Formed in the southern Illinois towns of Belleville and Alton, IL, Billy & The Jets forge a sound with the characteristics and characters of their contemporary American Midwest origins. With a membership of basement rocking friends that revolve around Billy & The Jets front man and songwriter Bill Hudgins, and including drummer Fats Eberlin, bassist Todd Anderson, and guitarist Eric Hensley, The band's music is a litany of working class character sketches in the garments of indie-rock circa your young adult years. The album is full of songs that ride on hope and broken dreams but never lets go of those knee jerk bends that project a subdued ferocity. Consequences are harsh but the investment pays ecstatic dividends. It is a bravadic response to some inferior delay in garage-rock circles that owes nothing to anyone, though one would practice folly to ignore the familiar sources. Look only as far as the tune “Shooting Sun” to see where Hudgins promises “with a handshake” and then name drops Elton John, demonstrating and decompressing the genre to a whole. Elsewhere, like on the staggering String in Hand, the music pummels like a second hand flare gun that you’re unsure if it was a wise idea to give to your 6 year old nephew in the backseat of your car, while you’re driving. Man, that’s dangerous. But it turns out to be ok because it’s just a song, but then you hit repeat. No doubt, that in the future there will be faster modes of travel, but as long as Billy & The Jets are around, I have a confident feeling that we are all going to be ok.