Shame is not a concept known to The Datsuns. If it was, they would never have called a song ‘Motherfucker From Hell'. They might have thought twice about the riff that ignites ‘Sittin' Pretty' (not to mention that apostrophe). And certainly, the guitar solo on ‘Freeze, Sucker' would have been struck from their ‘To Do' list. Outdated like a mechanic's calendar, these four hirsute New Zealanders with more AC/DC records than job skills now find themselves in the curious position of being "up to the minute". They might not be as cute or as hip as their new-breed siblings but it's Dolf, Phil, Matt and Christian Datsun (gearheads might prefer to call them Sunny, Cherry, Laurel and Micra) who are becoming most at home on MTV, hunted by record companies like maidens on a medieval quest. Maybe it was the long hair that confused the A&R guys: more likely it was the certain knowledge that The Datsuns’ neck-bracing take on rock'n'roll would hit as many buttons with fickle hipsters as die-hard rock fans.
The denim waistcoat has just been passed to a new generation, a genuine Stone-Age coronation. It's also as much fun as you can have with your clothes covered in iron-on patches, a great Proustian rush of beer and smoke, like walking past a pub air-conditioning unit. The Datsuns excavate their prehistory with an ease and grace that belies the fundamental Clearasil gaucheness of much of their output (‘Lady', unreconstructed like the Acropolis, is just hilarious). Yet they machine-gun these songs with a fusillade of fabulous moments – Dolf Datsun stuttering to a perfect stop in ‘Motherfucker From Hell', the stock-car squall in the middle of ‘Fink For The Man', the closing guitar striptease of ‘You Build Me Up'. It's the excellent single ‘In Love' or the slutty, Iggy-in-glitter strut of ‘Harmonic Generator' that really stand out, though, the gum-chewing, evil-cheerleader backing vocals of The Von Bondies throwing a little light into the guitar shades.
In this week's NME Dave Grohl loves ’em, Jack White loves ’em – and you will too. Meet The Datsuns: the heroes of the new rock revolution everyone's talking about
Click here to subscribe and save over £20 It might not be the deathless rock thrill of the year – compared with the 360 Modena Ferrari of ‘Songs For The Deaf' it's a dino-powered Flintstones car – but it's exhilarating, daft and triggers spontaneous hair growth better than a vat of Pantene. Good intentions be damned: The Datsuns’ Highway To Hell is paved with a whole lot of fun.
Victoria Segal Rating: 7
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 12:21 (twenty-three years ago)
oh well!
at least it's not a jason fox review.....things could be worse.
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 12:33 (twenty-three years ago)
And yes, much of what The Datsuns do is tongue in cheek. Still, passion rules here – not panto or pastiche. Spontaneity does rear its head in The 'Suns performance – guitarist Christian wanders into the masses, guitar and all. Elvis lookalikes clamber on-stage and declare the band "The new kings of Rock 'n' Roll".
Click here to subscribe and save over £20 At the centre of all these hi-jinks is frontman Dolf. It helps that he’s got hair blacker than an oil spill, eyes wider than a furby and an on-stage zest that’ll one day set Top Of The Pops on fire. Look no further than the crotch-liberating supertrash of 'Super Gyration' or the glitterball stomp of 'Harmonic Generator' for proof that they’re on a crash course with the mainstream. Tonight, NME especially marvels at how 'Lady' threatens to segue into a cover of Aerosmith's Mrs Doubtfire soundtrack contribution 'Dude Looks Like a Lady' at every turn. It's part 70's cop-show, part commercial radio drive time, but all thrilling.
Tracks like crowd favourite 'Motherfucker from Hell' are wholly accessible heavy metal, while their cover of '70s power-pop clowns Cheap Trick's 'Goodnight Now Ladies And Gentlemen' and set-highlight 'In Love' (where they're joined by Von Bondies vixens Carrie and Marcie) make the middle-of-road seem like the most dangerous place on earth. Tonight, The Datsuns have been catapulted to the front of the Class of 2002.
Swot up on them.
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 12:36 (twenty-three years ago)
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 12:37 (twenty-three years ago)
― mark p (Mark P), Saturday, 5 October 2002 13:47 (twenty-three years ago)
SORRY for having an opinion...
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:00 (twenty-three years ago)
What does this mean?The denim waistcoat has just been passed to a new generation, a genuine Stone-Age coronation. It's also as much fun as you can have with your clothes covered in iron-on patches, a great Proustian rush of beer and smoke, like walking past a pub air-conditioning unit. The Datsuns excavate their prehistory with an ease and grace that belies the fundamental Clearasil gaucheness of much of their output (‘Lady', unreconstructed like the Acropolis, is just hilarious).
What does this mean?
Could someone please explain to me what she's talking about. I feel autistic when I read this review?
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:06 (twenty-three years ago)
i don't really know what "outdated like a mechanic's calendar" means (unless it's that the mechanic likes to look at the "glamour models" on a particular page so much that he never bothers updating it)
― mark s (mark s), Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:21 (twenty-three years ago)
― mark s (mark s), Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:22 (twenty-three years ago)
i had to read your interpration three times to understand what she was trying to say - i know, i know, i should get the coles notes version....!!!!
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:27 (twenty-three years ago)
i like the datsuns albums but i had no clue what she was talking about....
― doomi, Saturday, 5 October 2002 14:36 (twenty-three years ago)