The Datsuns shuffled through the Windy City dressed like four dudes straight off the set of That 70s Show, only The Datsuns are from New Zealand, which is way cooler (figuratively and literally) than cheese-loving Wisconsin. The lead singer Dolf de Datsun, and male equivalent of Olive Oyl, shredded the bass while the rest of the crew (and Cousin It look alike squad) ripped through a scorching set Thursday night in Chicago. The evening was full of wailing guitars, hammering bass, and long, greasy, unmaintained hair. If you havenít succumbed to the monstrous rock found on The Datsuns album, you should kick yourself in the balls and keep the $20...because that is what it feels like once these Kiwis unload their crusty classic rock explosion onto your mainframe.
After introducing themselves with a Cheap Trick cover, the shaggy haired Datsuns blazed through tracks from their self-titled debut on V2. ìSittin Pretty,î ìLady,î ìMotherfucker From Hell,î ìHarmonic Generator, the oldie ìSuper Gyration,î and a blistering new gem ìNo Time For Loveî (or ìNo Time To Be In Loveî).
The stage act, full of smoke, tight pants, beer-fueled vigor, lacked much of a jaw-dropping stage presence, one that I was ìwarnedî to look out for. There was no windmilling off of each others backs, skydiving off of amps, or carnage involving farm animals...it was basically plug in, rock the shit, then go slurp some more brew.
The undeniable force of the band is something measured only on Richter scales. I think I would have enjoyed the set if more people would have braved the wet skies of Chicago to fill the open gaps in the audience. However fierce and raucous the sounds, The Datsuns are definitely NOT a big venue outfit. They need to stick to causing riots in the dive bars and puny clubs across the planet, rather than try to sell out mid-level venues thereby losing an arousing punch of their vicious tenacity.
All I need now, is to see The Datsuns boys team up with The Donnas girls, for the 2003 "D's Nuts" Tour.
Source: Jason Anfinsen