It’s a funny thing, nostalgia. Save for the odd ill-formed lament for historical attitudes towards gender and race, no-one’s stoking the embers of anachronistic social attitudes. By contrast, pop culture is littered with artists fanning the flames of ‘70s rock’n’roll, with all its attendant reliance on hirsute machismo, slovenly fashion and sneering self-indulgence.
But as evidenced by The Casanovas new album, Terra Casanova – the band’s first in almost ten years – that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The land of The Casanovas is dominated by the towering figures of ‘70s rock – Kiss, Ted Nugent (who, despite his contemporary gun-toting, conspiracy-obsessed right wing nuttery, did give the world some killer rock tunes), AC/DC and Thin Lizzy.
It’s undeniable from the moment the swaggering beat of He’s Alive kicks in, and you hear a lick Midnight Oil might’ve played in the late-‘70s before they became mired in social causes. Terra Casanova is the best track Ace Frehley forgot to put on his 1978 solo album; Hotel Sunrise is all coked-up Californian rock ego and strutting attitude; Cold Metal shines a light on the golden thread linking Cream, Led Zeppelin and AC/DC; and Slug is a dirty-arsed number scraped off the floor of the Hammersmith Odeon just before punk rock shoved a knife into corporate rock largesse.
Just Because dances closely with the power-pop of Cheap Trick and comes out smiling; Chicken Leg Blues is like every other basic blues rock track ever, and a bit more on the side; and Full Circle seems reminiscent of the Cuban Heels’ Fast Living Friend – but that’s probably only coincidental, and nothing more need be said.
For a marriage of incisive commentary on modern industrial sociology and The Hitmen, there’s Day In Day Out; for some classic stadium rock riffs and some heart-felt lament for oriental love, there’s Oriental Woman. For proof rock’n’roll will never die, there’s The Casanovas.
BY PATRICK EMERY
