Towards the end of the night, The Casanovas’ Tommy Boyce thanked the crowd for coming along for what was a rare Casanovas live appearance. Boyce calculated it was at least a year since the band’s previous gig, which itself had been the first time the Casanovas had graced the stage for 18 months. Some quick mental arithmetic came up with the time frame of 12 years since we’d first see The Casanovas – supporting The Dictators and the Celibate Rifles at the Corner Hotel – a temporal assessment that tends to make you feel a lot older than you’d like to admit.
Back at that Dictators gig the Casanovas had their original lineup, and slightly cheesy stage monikers – Tommy Love, Jimmy Heat and Paddy Downstairs. We remembered the, ‘Fuck, listen to this,’ moment when Tommy tore into Nasty, quickly followed by the realisation – probably when the equally emphatic Shake It appeared shortly after – that this was a band that could spit out kick-arse licks and rock’n’roll spirit with an almost laconic quality, and we should do them the duty of maintaining attention.
A lot’s happened since those days – Damien Campbell took over bass duties from Jimmy Heat, Jaws Stanley replaced Paddy Boyce on drums, and Tommy Boyce learnt the hard way that Jimmy Barnes is a tough band leader, in both a musical and familial sense.
Reunited on stage for the 25th anniversary of David Vodicka’s Rubber Records – which was still putting out physical product in those crazy days of 2002 – and The Casanovas were as fresh and awe-inspiring as ever. Tommy is still sporting his porno star moustache, his boots and stove-pipe jeans infecting the classic ‘70s rock’n’roll aesthetic with a slick Melbourne rock sensibility. Damo Campbell has shed his curly locks, but has lost none of the power of bass playing; his voice could’ve been stronger in the mix, but that’s a minor quibble. Jaws Stanley’s talents are too-often understated – somewhat tragically, he’s the only surviving Meanies guitarist – and he couldn’t put a foot wrong, even if you held a gun to his head and demanded it.
The music had an AC/DC, Led Zeppelin quality about it, devoid of the stadium bravado and pretension that comes with global success. The set was a constant assault of riffs and licks; a special mention must go to Shake It, which was so tight it’s almost suffocating. When Boyce deliberately laboured the intro to Ten Outta Ten and we were all pretty fucking happy about it. The clichéd crowd sing-a-long brought with it enthusiasm, and the boozing monotone harmonies that just make a rock’n’roll gig. We were hoping for a cover of a song written by a gun-toting Tea Party lunatic, but sadly Ted Nugent was not in the house tonight.
The finale was unexpected, and arguably the best thing we could’ve hoped for. Paddy Boyce and Jim Lewis (aka Jimmy Heat) made their way to the stage for Keep It Hot; Boyce took over the drums, while Heat assumed vocals duties. It was a trip back in time, and everyone was wearing a shit-eating grin. It’s good to have The Casanovas back. Here’s hoping it won’t be another year before we see them again.
BY PATRICK EMERY
Loved: Shake It.
Hated:riding through the pouring rain to get to and from the gig.
Drank:Cooper’s Pale.
