Gig review: The Datsuns

THE Datsuns are the teenage boys leaping about their bedroom playing air guitar who never grew up. Unlike the other air guitar-playing teenage boys who went on to become accountants, they have turned the fantasy into a modest career built on the rock'n'roll essentials: Flying V guitars, windmilling arms, flailing hair, spray-on jeans on stick-thin legs, a shared band surname, non-ironic song titles such as Motherf**ker From Hell. Oh yeah, and big, dumb riffs, the dumber the better.

Despite the PhDs in rock posturing, the stadium gigs have yet to materialise. The Datsuns have been at this thing for a few years now, so they probably never will. But that didn't stop them attacking this club show like it was the headline slot at Donington or dissuade frontman Dolf De Datsun from addressing the crowd at the top of his voice.

But if you want to slay the fans like, say, Motorhead or Kiss, you have to bring the hooks and the electricity all of the time every time and, in that respect, The Datsuns were slightly lacking. There were moments, such as when they unleashed the fierce caveman boogie of Sittin' Pretty, when the energy levels shot upwards. The bubblegum strut of Harmonic Generator is still hard to resist. But these highlights tended to show up the more anonymous garage metal onslaughts which only went up to about a nine on the rockometer.

The Datsuns are still a fun night out. At their best, they are tight, terse and tuneful. But on this occasion, they just weren't always at their best.