In a room full of die-hard disciples, those new to The Darkness came in for a few surprises. The band were not goths: no make-up or purple hair. Anticipating rock shocks and plenty of posing, it was tempting to feel a little disappointed, when....
10 seconds after walking on stage, the singer flung his T-shirt into the crowd and screamed, "Suck my dick". Who the hell did he think he was? Justin, apparently: it said so on his arm.
11 seconds in, sonic boom and falsetto heels. Justin strutted and squealed, Steve Tyler fashion. His performance was theatrical, hysterical, a knowing combination of Alice Cooper's drama and Mick Jagger's arrogance.
The set ranged from power ballads to camp rock pastiche. Fancy guitar-work and melodramatic poses were delicately balanced on solid riffs. The Darkness lamented life's cruel moments and celebrated silliness. Their songs possessed soul, sentiment and cunning cliches, delivered with ludicrous overstatement and crafty musicianship.
Essence of The Stones, Thin Lizzy and AC/DC was captured in The Darkness' home-grown neo-classic anthems. Two favourites about to be recorded are Love on the Rocks with No Ice and I Believe in a Thing Called Love.
The fans could not get enough of topless tunes at top volume with all the prancing and pouting of a would-be Rock God. Justin careered through the middle of them on the shoulders of producer Pedro(ck) Ferreira, not a twang out of place.
This was rock'n'roll - big, clever, happy, horny, frivolous, stylish, and very very loud.
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