The Datsuns - 'The Datsuns' (V2)
4/5
By: Toby L
April 2002. When we walked into the upstairs venue located at London's Highbury Garage, little did we know what we were in for. In an expectant anticipation to witness The D4's debut-London performance, a New Zealand group hotly-tipped for special things throughout the course of 2002, the idea that there was to be a support-act so demonstratively brilliant as the one we were hearing seemed implausible. Yet there was one. Heads were nodding violently in a fashion that immediately harked back to the days when Deep Purple and AC/DC were Gods, and rock was King. Bodies flailed around, heavy-metal hand-signals were pulled - sheesh, there was even air-guitar being played by the audience. And, right out there in front, The Datsuns were playing their first ever UK show.
Since then, you know the rest: these four guys with impeccably long hair and teasingly youthful looks have taken the UK music-press and audiences by storm. Yet, for all the natural cynicism one could develop as to whether the group really justifiably deserve all the praise so soon, we've one statement for you - catch The Datsuns live for full effect, or play this, their debut-LP, at home with your friends. At full volume. The answer will then become clear to you.
For, it seems, that never before have the sheer soulful enjoyment of turgid, perfectly-honed riffs, power-charging hooks and effervescent swells of energy as possessed on this record sounded so vibrant and immediately infectious. The snarling vocals of Dolf De Datsun, excruciatingly bellowing drums of Matt, and the beautifully intertwining guitars of Christian and Phil - which, at their finest moments are so fiercely competent that they can recall shadows of Television's Tom Verlaine, let alone Clapton vs. Hendrix in a six-string dual - means that the whole package is just too good.
It starts compellingly, from the riotous licks of 'Sittin' Pretty' into the implausibly perfect strains of 'MF From Hell', where swearing and distortion has never seemed quite so apt, only improving for the amusingly entertaining, hit-single-potential of 'Lady' and the pelvic thrust of 'Harmonic Generator', the duh, duh-duh, duh, duh pace and introduction of bass towards the close of the track is the sexiest concoction NZ have to rival NYC.
Proceedings become more muso-y for the mid-section of the LP, 'What Would I Know' and 'At Your Touch' offering the vastest array of pummelling, instrumental textures and layers on the full work, with the elevating build-up which spawns 'Fink For The Man' - along with its 'jet-black hair' references - a keenly grittier display of The D's dirty yet tight brand of sassy-anthems. And, in enough time to recover from the prior screeches and almost Chuck Berry-isms in the solos from the former number, debut-single proper 'In Love' is with us, its keyboard-driven form evoking the good-time spirit of the band's 60's masterclass-inspirations. However, all this is just mere preparation for the grand finale - 'Freeze Sucker', a track that growls and purrs before exploding and combusting into a glorious set of ear-pleasing noise, Dolf, Christian, Phil and Matt noodling away to an almost sublime effect.
Then, it hits you - those long-awaited forty minutes you've been itching to absorb since you first heard about this band have just passed you by. And the likelihood is that the experience felt as if it only lasted half that actual spinning-time.
So, conclusions, then: an album of the year? Oh, goodness, yes. It meets all the high expectations? Damn right. So, where next for this lot? Onwards and upwards; after all, music seldom impacts so zealously, nor does it quite reveal itself to be as imaginative, extreme and as dangerously enthralling as The Datsuns. Treasure these times.
Artists in this article: The Datsuns
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