The Darkness

Before our country was overrun by a bunch of northern monkeys, there was a time when the sound of pounding Les Pauls, histrionic falsetto and big thumbs was almost inescapable. Yes, only two years ago The Darkness were everywhere: hitting the top of the charts with the multi-million-selling ‘Permission To Land’, playing huge arenas across the country, and almost beating that small guy with the hat to the Christmas number one spot. Damn, things change quickly these days…

Even after Swedish rockers The Ark – who appear to be so old they make The Darkness look like toddlers – and the awful, redundant garage rock of Juliette And The Licks, Ally Pally is still only seventy per cent full. You would have thought that the ornate majesty of these surroundings would suit The Darkness’ heraldic pomp-rock down to a tee, yet the atmosphere in the building is akin to the end of the banquet rather the over-indulgent decadence of a party in full swing. And what a strange mix of people this band seems to be drawing to its shows: a seemingly enormous amount of young children are scattered amongst, curious married couples, gothic metalheads, public school teenagers, pissed-up Oasis fans and some idiot who’s just spent a tenner on a pair of flashing ears that only work for three minutes – a diverse mix to say the least. Yet, when the curtain drops and the band arrive – Dan, Ed and new boy Richie onstage, Justin (in true Justin style) on a big pair of flashing tits – everyone whoops and looks set to Rock.

There is something slightly sad about seeing a badly out of shape man flying over a patchy audience in a 'boob chariot' getting overly excited when he presses the button that makes the nipples light up. So, ignoring Hawkins' absurd entrance and turning our attention to the stage, we see and hear an extremely tight, professional and polished outfit. Brother Dan’s guitar playing is immaculately solid and his rhythm - alongside trusty stickman Ed - is as together as ever. ‘Knockers’ is a thunderous opener, immediately let down by a very flat ‘One Way Ticket…’ and a dull, uninspiring delivery of new single ‘Is It Just Me?’. The brilliant ‘Growing On Me’ remains one of the band's key songs and shows up the lacklustre ‘Dinner Lady Arms’ that follows. Indeed, the bizarrely titled ‘Dinner Lady Arms’ is just one of many attributes – the catsuits and the wacky videos to name a few others - that have contributed to this band being labelled a joke. However, in this live situation the Joke Question becomes completely irrelevant. For watching The Darkness live is a very pleasurable experience – as a middle aged gent and his wife piped up between songs, “They do put on a marvellous show”. I’m inclined to agree. No matter what your sonic persuasion might be, there is nothing quite like watching endless fireworks, licking flame throwers and a couple of Gibson-wielding long-hairs playing soaring harmony guitar – you don’t often see this sorta thing in the Barfly.

If there is a problem with The Darkness, it is Mr Justin Hawkins. At their core they are essentially a very, very good hard rock band with some extremely catchy songs that have great, great _choruses. Unfortunately, Hawkins' constantly embarrassing attempts at Alan Partridge-esque humour and his bitter attitude simply grate. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no party-pooper – sheer enjoyment and fun in music is always welcome in my house - but this guy just pushes it way too far. Tonight, his attempts to get the crowd to chant along while he rolls his beer gut are met with equal parts laughter and dismay. As is his insinuation that everyone is going to the bar during big piano ballads ‘Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time’ and ‘Blind Man’. The fact that many people actually do grab a pint is as much a reflection on Hawkins silly wittering as it is on this major dip in the set. Things pick up with a crowd friendly ‘Friday Night_’, and their ubiquitous big-hitter ‘I Believe In A Thing Called Love’ is happily injected with fresh, pulverising energy. And so it’s left to a duo of tracks from the crap-selling, but intermittently fine ‘One Way Ticket To Hell… And Back’ to provide a volcanic close to a show that was both tired and spectacular - a combination only The Darkness know how to pull off.