The Darkness + Juliette and the Licks + The Ark
Glasgow SECC, 12th February 2006
There seems to be a new rule: you can only support the Darkness if you know how to strike a good pose. Certainly band number one on the bill tonight are no strangers to throwing a metal shape or twelve. Riding the wave of the Scandinavian New Glam Revival (actually I think I just made that up, but think Turbonegro, Hardcore Superstar and, of course, the reformed Hanoi Rocks and you get the general drift), Swedish glamsters The Ark are hell bent on joining the glitter revolution.
Clad in a fur trimmed leather jacket, satin pants, an early '70s Alice-inspired diamante necklace and a biker cap, frontman Ola Salo high kicks his way around the stage like the bastard offspring of Mick Jagger and Mike Monroe, belting out a series of classic singalong glam anthems that could well have sprung from the pen of Andy McCoy (okay, if he was having a bit of an off day – they're not that good). And you've got to admire a man who manages to squeeze a costume stage into a six song set, taking advantage of a suitably CC Deville-esque guitar solo to change into a pair of rather ratty black angel's wings.
Definitely a recipe for feelgood fun, even when singing about death (with current single 'One Of Us Is Gonna Die Young') The Ark manage to sound upbeat and melodic – and you it's kinda hard to knock a band who can include the word 'Hallelujah' in a chorus and still come out looking cool.
If they're handing out awards for confidence then The Ark should be first in line – they may be third on the bill, but that doesn't stop them claiming the stage as their own, acting for all the world as if we were here to see them – next time, believe me, we will be.
Follow that performance if you can, Juliette and the Licks. Hmmm… okay, well, you can try. Having been a fan of the feisty Juliette Lewis in her previous incarnation as a film star, I was looking forward to seeing her live on stage with her punk rock band the Licks. Juliette herself certainly doesn't disappoint – clad in white stiletto boots, kneepads and a pair of trousers so eye-wateringly tight they make Ola Salo's look positively baggy, she's as wild and weird and whacked out on stage as she is on screen. Flinging her shaggy mane of hair about and striking a nice line in warrior poses, she struts her stuff like a female Iggy Pop, screaming out the songs in a style not dissimilar to Polly Styrene. Shame, then, that the rest of the band are a bunch of faceless Kens and the songs all sound rather the same, but I guess you can't have everything.
The Darkness, however, are not a band who are shy of trying to have everything. Okay, so they're no longer flavour of the month on Radio 1 and Popworld, and their 'difficult second album', One Way Ticket to Hell and Back, was a little disappointing (in that it sounded pretty much like the last album, only not quite as good), but let's not forget that they are one of the finest live acts to hit this country since… er, God, it's late, and I don't know. Maiden? But how, you ask, is Justin Hawkins to top a sky high ride on a giant white tiger? Oh ye of little faith – by emerging, 10 feet above the audience, in a giant pair of fibreglass boobs. With flashing nipples. I kid you not.
What more can I say, really? That Justin may have piled on the pies ('Sumo! Sumo!' the audience chants as his flame tattooed belly flops out of his stripy white flares)? True, but the extra poundage doesn't make him less the consummate rock'n'roll frontman, as comfortably at home on stage as he would be in his living room, leaping around like a lunatic and chatting to the cheering crowd as if we were his mates. One Freddy Mercury and three John Deacons? Yuh, if you splice poor Freddy with Brian May – because let's not forget, Justin is really quite a kick ass axe man too, well capable of bringing down the house with a rooftop-of-Buckingham-Palace-style geetar serenade. Throw in the some Elton John keyboards as well, multi-instrumental wizard that he is, and quite frankly the rest of the band may as well not be there. Did we miss the droopy porn star panache of Frankie Poullain, now replaced by baldy Primal Fear frontman lookeylikey Richie Edwards? Um, not really.
After opener 'Knockers' (The Darkness' answer to 'Whole Lotta Rosie' - 'They say you're pushing 30/Well, pushing 30 stone'), Justin descends from the tit carriage (now thoroughly soaked with beer, of course) to rattle through most of the new album, and a fair bit of the old one as well. Playing all the ballads in one go is a bold move, although I'm not sure it's a decision that entirely pays off (but having said that, Queen rip-off 'Blind Man' sounds great with a Bill Bailey cockernee piano accompaniment). The rest of the time, the Darkness do what they do best: they rock. 'One Way Ticket', 'Growing On Me', 'Hazel Eyes' (complete with bagpiper)… hell, I don't need to give you a rundown, just read the album sleeves.
Once they've hit us with the essential 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love', we wonder what they've got left to encore with, but they pull out all the (organ) stops with another eccentric Queen homage, 'English Country Garden'. 'Bald' is an odd and somewhat flat song to end on, but when it comes complete with pyrotechnics and a display of aerial acrobatics from Justin (again, I kid you not) you kinda have to forgive them.
Raucous and crass as AC/DC, pompous and clever as Queen, the Darkness may have squandered their 15 minutes in the TV celebrity spotlight, but up on stage where they belong, they'll always shine like stars. Or at least Justin will…
The Darkness + Ten Benson, 9th December 2003
Guilfest 2003, 4th-6th July 2003
