Retro Wearing aWig and a Smirk.
This year, it returned wearing leather, nostalgia, and a grin.
And somewhere in New Jersey, a band called Who On Earth decided
that the best way to celebrate the comeback wasn’t with a solemn speech or a
moody black-and-white video. No these guys chose chaos. The fun kind. The kind
with wigs, exaggerated hip-swag, and a cover song that sounds like it’s
laughing with rock history instead of bowing to it.
Their weapon of choice “Jane,”
the iconic 1979 Jefferson Starship hit reborn on Halloween, because if you’re
going to resurrect something, you may as well do it when the calendar is
already dressed for the occasion.
From the first seconds, their version doesn’t creep in politely. It
kicks open the comments section, sets the whole thing on fire, and then stands
there watching the flames like, “Yeah. That’s right.”
Fans poured in, some claiming it’s “better than the original,”
others calling it “the best version I’ve ever heard,” and a few probably
wondering if they should feel guilty for laughing while headbanging. The
internet can argue about anything pineapple on pizza, the best Metallica era,
whether air guitar counts as cardio but on this, it seemed weirdly united this cover is ridiculous in the best way.
The music video was filmed at Rockstar Rehearsal Studios in
Blackwood, New Jersey, a place that sounds like it was built specifically for
loud dreams and questionable wardrobe decisions. It was directed, produced, and
edited by Rob Shotwell of Shotwell Productions, who appears to possess a rare
skill making something look polished
while also letting it be delightfully dumb on purpose. That’s not an insult.
That’s a craft.
Meet the band, your five-man nostalgia cannon
Kosh, the lead vocalist, delivering thunder like he’s arguing with
the sky.
Pete Reese on bass, holding the groove like it owes him money.
Howie Fallon on drums, relentless, surgical, and allergic to quiet.
And two lead guitarists Jonny James Baron and Jimmy Kutcha trading
riffs like dueling wizards who decided spellcasting should sound like stadium
rock.
But instead of showing up as modern metal tough guys, they transform
into something far more dangerous a gang
of 1970s hippies wandering a faux Amazon jungle like they took a wrong turn on
a festival tour and ended up in a parody of their own music video.
Picture it baggy pants
swinging like curtains in a hurricane. Iconic 70s mustaches that look legally
obligated to come with a cassette tape. Gold chains dangling with the
confidence of men who believe glitter is a human right. And wigs big, loud wigs
that scream, “Studio failure turned masterpiece,” as if the hair itself is part
of the joke.
Then, like the punchline walking into the room at exactly the right
moment, enters Sharon Lea as “Jane.”
She is not here to be impressed.
She delivers the kind of sideways glance that could shut down a
whole band’s ego mid-solo. Her face barely moves, but her eyes do all the
talking a subtle eye roll here, a
deadpan stare there pure comedic precision. The band throws everything at her exaggerated rock-god gestures, heroic poses,
dramatic pleading, and the occasional “please love me” body language that
belongs in a therapy session, not a jungle set.
Jane responds with flawless indifference.
It’s like watching five men attempt to charm a statue that has
opinions.
And that’s exactly the point. The video isn’t mocking the song.
It’s celebrating the song by putting it in a costume and making it do comedy like
rock music itself is admitting, “Yeah, we’ve always been a little ridiculous.
That’s why it’s fun.”
The result feels like a bright, sarcastic dream where Spinal Tap’s
irony shakes hands with Jefferson Starship’s melodrama. It’s loud, theatrical,
and knowingly over the top because rock and roll, at its healthiest, is never
afraid to be a little absurd.
According to the project’s release notes, the track was produced by
John Albino and distributed via WoeToYou Music (also styled as Woto U Music),
giving the whole thing a modern punch while keeping the classic heart of “Jane”
intact. And while press blurbs love to build mythologies tossing in names like
producer Mike Orlando (Adrenaline Mob) and grand statements about influences
spanning heavy metal history the real truth is simpler it sounds like a band having a blast, and that
energy is contagious.
Who On Earth formed in 2020, founded by Kosh and Pete Reese, and
their mission statement basically translates to “Rock got too serious. We’re here to fix
that.” They grew up on the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, classic rock,
grunge, and all the delicious noise in between, and decided that modern
production doesn’t have to sterilize old-school spirit. It can amplify it like
restoring a vintage car, then putting a turbo engine in it just because you
can.
They’ve played extensively around the greater New York area,
released their debut album “Blame” in 2022, and built a reputation around the
idea that riffs and melodies still matter. Not as museum pieces but as living
things that can be reanimated, re-lit, and reintroduced to the mainstream like
a beloved troublemaker.
As Kosh puts it in the band’s own words this isn’t just a cover. It’s a challenge part love letter, part middle finger to the algorithmic sameness that’s been flattening music into predictable shapes. They leaned into humor on purpose, because rock doesn’t need to be a constant funeral for its own glory days. Sometimes rock needs to put on a wig, grab a guitar, and flirt badly with “Jane” while she stares through your soul like you’re a mildly interesting insect.
And when it works, it really works.
Because beneath the jokes and costumes and sarcastic eye rolls, the
message is classic rock truth the spirit
isn’t gone. It’s just waiting for someone brave enough to be loud and funny.
So yeah join them.
Not in a cult way. In a “turn the volume up and remember how fun
this is” way.

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