Various Artists “Do You Wanna Be in the Show?” (Twist US5)  Because so many people missed The Jetset the first time around, here’s a tribute album that’s fully warranted. Formed in 1982, the British band were masters of self-promotion. Not only did The Jetset take a cue from The Beatles and The Monkees by hawking lunchboxes and comic strips (as well as a proposed television series) and flaunting a cute and cuddly teenybopper oriented image, but their music also bore a striking resemblance to both groups. Had The Jetset existed in the sixties, they would have surely been the superstars they yearned to be. Together for several years, the band released five albums, which have recently received the reissue treatment. And how cool that is, considering how rare their records are.

Seventeen slabs of pure pop bliss is exactly what “Do You Wanna Be In The Show” entails. The fine folks who contributed interpretations of Jetset songs to the project remain relatively loyal to the original recordings of the band’s material, so that means you’re in for a jolly joyride of jangling guitars, bouncy keyboards, luscious harmonies and bracing hooks. Paul Bevoir, the fellow responsible for authoring the majority of the band’s tunes, deserves to be placed in the same category as John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. No lie, this guy truly is a great songwriter and has clearly done his homework.

Cribbing the classic riff of “Day Tripper” before developing into a shining nugget of its own accord, “You Should Know By Now” from Herb Eimerman joins the psychedelic dusted distortion of “Colour My World” by The Eddies, Russ Schneider’s zippy and zoomy “The Jetset Theme” and Jeremy’s sweet and charming “Every Little Moment.” To boot, The Shambles tackle the wistful “Hard To Say Goodbye” with affection and perfection, while The Risk’s mad and merry “Judy’s Toybox” examines the bubblegum persona of The Jetset. Courtesy of The Che Men, “Wednesday Girl” is a springy, sprightly slice of power pop royalty, and the title track of the album, brought to you by Rinaldi Sings, skips, gallops and hums with unstoppable giddiness. Pitched somewhere between the cheery innocence of “Meet The Beatles” and the sonic experimentation of “Revolver” (with frequent side trips to the land of Davy, Mike, Micky and Peter), The Jetset were perhaps the eighties answer to The Rutles. And that’s not a bad thing.