- 14 Mar 03
The Donnas, if you don’t know, are a hard rock (and yes, that antiquated term very much applies here) quartet armed with a serious index of AC/DC riffs and a smattering of gauche girl-gone-wrong charm
Is a cliché still a cliché if it’s been inverted?
Forget any Girlschool comparisons, this one goes further back. Close your eyes and it could be 1975 all over again, a fuzzy edged Sam Snort wet dream of August nights spent lounging around the mall in long sleeved t-shirts, flared jeans and keds, renting so-bad-they’re-great straight to video morality tales like The Foxes or Times Square, or else shotgunning Buds and reading Creem in the parking lot outside Kiss concerts.
But don’t let the glossy production wrongfoot you. The songs are jerrybuilt solder jobs comprised of rudimentary melodies, cast-iron riffs and regimented cowbell-abetted four-on-the-floor metres. The obvious reference point is of course The Runaways, although one suspects The Donnas lean more towards Lita Ford than Joan Jett.