The Darkness in Whelan’s on 8th March 2015

There are those among us who haven’t given The Darkness a second thought for the best part of a decade. Here was a band that exploded in 2003 with ‘Permission To Land’, all big hair and bravado, fronted by the ebullient, jumpsuited Justin Hawkins and his startling falsetto. Rock cliché soon followed success and Hawkins departed the band subsequent to a course of rehabilitation for cocaine and alcohol abuse, but recent years have seen them reconvene to record and tour fresh material.

There’s clearly still a lot of love for this band – more of a throwback to their earlier infectious shenanigans, one suspects – and Whelan’s is heaving as the band kick off with new album opener Barbarian. “We’re on the telly again… It’s like 2003 all over again” deadpans Hawkins in reference to the large screen above the band, not the first self-deprecating reference to past glories.

Straight off the bat it’s clear that we may well be witnessing one of the most enjoyably raucous, good-time gigs of the year. Hawkins is flanked by brother Dan – looking unnervingly like Joe Elliott, resplendent in leopard print – and bassist Frankie Poullain, the latter manning the cowbell for One Way Ticket as the cock rock posturing takes hold and drummer Emily Dolan Davies emerges from behind the kit to bellow into the mic. Guitar solos are let loose, as is Hawkin’s high register vocal, emanating from a man who is almost unrecognisable from that fledgling poodle rock visage of yore.

Hawkins acts as conductor throughout, acknowledging that “it’s very kind of you to offer yourselves as guinea pigs for the new material” as he and Dan trade off guitar licks and get everyone involved. Inexplicably, misgivings about what should normally amount to cheesy platitudes and tired rock’n’roll tropes become obsolete when the entire room is getting stuck into We Will Rock You handclaps, waving their arms from side to side en masse, or humouring Hawkin’s request to “show me you’re fucking thumbs” during a triumphant I Believe In A Thing Called Love. A snippet of Oasis’ Supersonic precedes the latter, and the crowd holler the high notes back to the band as Hawkins reminisces back to its release – “I was as rich as my hair was long.”  

Love On The Rocks With No Ice sees Hawkins carried out through crowd on the shoulders of a crew member, soloing all the while; he’s delivered back onstage for a tease of Lady In Red and the crowd suddenly take up a chorus of Joan Jett’s I Love Rock’n’Roll before the band segue into an elongated rock-out finale. Hawkins mimes armpit farts into the mic along with the feedback. It’s that kind of gig.

Admittedly, a lot of what’s coming from the stage is interchangeable; one Status Quo-esque number after the next, one lengthy guitar solo after another and plenty of rocking blues and rock god swagger. Original the new material is not and events frequently border on an out and out cheesefest, but it couldn’t matter less – for sheer entertainment value this gig will take some beating.