“I want to make it absolutely fucking clear…” starts singer-guitarist in-chief Andrew Ferris, neck arched toward, eyes bulging; “…sorry, would you like a beer?” Umm, sure.

Andrew sits down; bassist Jamie Burchell sits content in the corner, fingering large amounts of sushi into his mouth. “…Make no mistake about it, we’re not a band who’s out to f*** anyone over…” continues Andrew; “we’re not here to sell people a lifestyle, we’re here to mean something, we’re here to make music that has a purpose, and that people can really dance to and enjoy.”

Jetplane Landing were formed from the ashes of Cuckoo, Andrew and Jamie’s former band dropped by Geffen; “We just saw it as a great experience, really.” explains Andrew, “we were lucky enough to get a chance to understand how the industry works.” Thus, Andrew and Jamie then relocated to London, pooled their savings, and created their own label; Smalltown America. Andrew and Jamie explain; “Smalltown America allows us to have complete creative control, we make mistakes, but at least they’re our mistakes. A record company only ever pay you what they can make back anyway.”

Between talking to myself, creating tonight’s guest list, taking business calls, AND helping out the support band, it seems Andrew and Jetplane’s self-funded creative liberty generates many-times the workload of a normal band. “We shave each other” explains guitarist Cahir O’Doherty. Andrew rushes back into the room; “We’re bad business men, we could cut back costs and not have good videos and such, but we’d just be taking away from our fans and community – this is their band.”

On the subject of the videos, their Brave Gravity video featured over twenty other bands, Andrew’s neck arches again, eyes bulge, and a pointy finger comes out; “And what REALLY f*****g pisses me off is that it takes a band like us to kick things up, bands these days do nothing to help out other bands. At every opportunity we give back to the people or bands which are more pro-active.” Ferris continues; “If you want people to listen, you can’t stand outside Reading Festival and shout at people, you have to scream it from the main stage.”

“If you want people to listen, you can’t just stand outside Readng Festival and shout, you need to scream it from the main stage.” – Andrew Ferris

With Andrew’s vitriolic ball of phlegm; Raife Burchell – drummer and once a victim of a severe rib breaking from guitarist Cahir – enters the room and starts screaming; “Where’s my fucking helicopter?!” “I wanted a fucking helicopter waiting for me on the roof, where is it?!” We’re quickly rushed out of the dressing room and into the bar, ready to prepare for tonight’s event.

After Manchester’s Incubus-inspired My Red Bullet finish, Jetplane Landing rush onstage helping them with their equipment and subsequently setting themselves up for the night (Fugazi would be proud). Between bands, people scuttle around to the toilets and bar to be back in time for Jetplane to crash into the stage, and once they do, their pre-gig ‘industry’ grumbles and ‘it’s their band’ manifesto suddenly make sense. Suitably starting things off with ‘Acrimony’, with the message-through-repetition chorus; “How could you dare amount to this!” is spat into the crowd, only to be spat right back in unison. Andrew Ferris told earlier of how the band work hard to create community and following through playing as many gigs as possible and spending any spare time building a community through their website, and the hard work seems to be paying off, as every single lyric, riff, drum beat and bass line is anticipated and devoured by the crowd, like a child being eaten by wolves, maybe.

Introducing the next song, Ferris says: “This next song is called Brave Gravity, which was released… when…?”, “31st MAY!” scream the crowd, with devotion generally saved for ultra-obsessed 12-year-old girls at a Blue concert, not a self-financed Anglo/Irish rock band. It’s a reminder of just how loyal Jetplane Landing’s fan-base is. The gig moves onwards, with wired guitarist Cahir folding himself up and throwing himself into any space The Roadhouse has to offer. The night hits peak when Ferris – pumped, teary-eyed and veins bulging – looking like Tom Green about to kill many people – unleashes a speech as impassioned as, well, anything: “I’m FUCKED OFF with you guys not being given the respect you deserve, and I’m fucked off with shit bands with shit hair being played to death everywhere, vote for us on the NME chart, and let’s knock Franz-fucking-Ferdinand out of there!” Even the most reluctant crowd member has now pushed their way to the front, and the rest scream bloody-murder whilst Jetplane leap into ‘Calculate The Risk’. Ferris’ vocals blaring, one guy manages to jump up on the stage, hug the band, and then crowd surf an impressive eight times in a row.

Jetplane Landing come as a breath of fresh-sweat to any jaded gig-goer or music fan, in a time where bands are pimped out by their managements all over the world and give about as much enthusiasm as a walking-comatose (step forward The Strokes). Jetplane Landing aren’t a band who are made to play for their fans, they’re a band who truly want to play. As their bank balance would probably testify, they really are your band.