The Darkness + Ash
Glasgow SECC, 27th November 2004
Okay, so I missed the first support band, teeny bop glamsters Do Me Bad Things (a bunch of guitar toting kids let loose in their mum's dressing up box), because I was having a cup of tea and a panini in the SECC's coffee bar. Don't know who that reflects more badly on, the band or me. rock'n'roll…
However, I did manage to drag my sorry ass into the arena in time to catch the set from Northern Ireland's finest melodic rockers, Ash. Ash are one of those bands who've been around for years, carving themselves a comfortable niche in the indie pop rock universe without ever exactly setting the world alight. Still, when faced with a greatest hits set like the one they pull out of the bag tonight, it's amazing how many Ash songs I find I know. 'Girl From Mars', 'Oh Yeah', 'Shining Light', 'Star Crossed'… hey, look, I named four! And I can see why the guys go crazy for guitarist Charlotte Hatherley as well – clad in spangly silver, she looks and rocks like Chrissie Hynde – you go girl!
But let's be honest, we didn't come to see Ash, did we? Although, while we're being honest, I must admit I did have my reservations about this gig. With nary a sign of the 'difficult' second album from the Darkness on the horizon, I was wondering whether this gig would, like last year's appearance at the Corn Exchange, be rather more filler than killer. The difference being that this year the tickets cost twice as much and I've had to travel to Weedgieland for the privilege of being treated to an hour long replay of Permission to Land plus an awful yet of 'woah-oh', 'woah-oh' audience participation.
But you don't go from playing King Tut's to the SECC in two scant years for nothing, and tonight the Darkness prove just why they're able to play a sell out arena tour with just one solitary album (and a Christmas single) under their low slung glittery belts.
Like Queen, KISS and Crüe, the Darkness were born to play arenas. As darkness falls on the auditorium (ho ho), we're confronted by a space age lighting rig so vast it could drain the national grid in 20 minutes, and a dazzling display of pyrotechnics so extravagant and eyebrow singeing it makes KISS look positively feart o' fire. The T-shirt for the winter tour features a snarling white tiger (of which more later) and, just like that tiger, the band leap onto the stage bristling with energy, power and, er, teeth. And whaddaya know? They're playing a new song!
All in all we're treated to quite a bit of new material, including the new 'soppy song', 'It Seemed Like A Good Idea at the Time' (I dread to think what that's all about – judging by the lyrics of their previous ballads, it won't be pleasant) and some new rock numbers that incorporate the bombast of Queen and the sassiness of Aerosmith with the melodic tunesmithery of, um, Bryan Adams, actually. Never afraid of wearing their hearts on their sleeves (or their T-shirts – you'll be unsurprised to hear that Dan is still sporting that Thin Lizzy shirt. Either he has a huge supply of identical T-shirts or that one walks to the wash basket on its own…), one track even segues in from AC/DC's classic 'Thunderstruck'. Justin has great fun with his 'keybar' (or 'guibaord' – you decide) a fantastic gleaming white '80s contraption that looks like a keyboard but is carried like a guitar: they're supposed to be playing a Small Faces style number called 'English Country Garden' (I think) but our flamboyant frontman just wants to play 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. But not, it would appear, the new Band Aid single. But hey, we don't want to listen to that 'pop rubbish' (or whatever derisory term it was that Justin used, bless him) do we? We want to rock!
Which is exactly what we do. We still get to hear pretty much all of Permission to Land (except, again, 'Holding My Own' – pity) but with the addition of the new material, there's much less need to pad out the set with endless crowd interaction. Not that we aren't left feeling loved – the rapport between the band and the audience is marvellous – but clearly Justin is learning that there's more to being a world class frontman than making us clap and wave our hands in the air – there's like, singing and playing too… With his receding hairline and terrible teeth, Justin is still an unlikely sex symbol, but that doesn't stop him being one of the most charismatic figures in rock since the late great Freddy. Oh, and Sir Frankie of Poullain really is a legend in his own fag break too – in his wrinkled leather trousers, tiger stripe shirt and huge crazy Afro, he looks like a pasty East Coast version of Jimi Hendrix. Pure class.
The obligatory encore starts with the classic 'Get Your Hands Off My Woman' and ends with a prolonged version of 'Love on the Rocks' which features Justin, resplendent in a dazzling glittery jumpsuit, riding around the ceiling of the SECC on a huge stuffed white tiger (relax guys, it's a toy), squealing away on his guitar like CC Deville. Oh yes, never underestimate the power of the Darkness to go one step further into crazy OTT rock'n'roll excess. And that's before the rousing rendition of last year's Christmas single, a mighty explosion of red and green fireworks and a showering of glitter and silver confetti. Love 'em or hate 'em (and right now I'm definitely in the former camp), there really is no denying the fact: the Darkness rock.
The Darkness + Ten Benson, 9th December 2003
Guilfest 2003, 4th-6th July 2003
