The Darkness is rock's filthy underbelly, glistening in the decadence of glib falsettos and the panache of power chords. Pallbearers of the legacy of Queen and AC/DC, these svelte Brits have grabbed American rock by the balls and put swagger back in the charts with a "thing called love."
Hungover and 3,000 miles away, Ed Graham, the Darkness' drummer, is still in shock from the band's current explosion on this side of the pond.
"It's going quicker than we've expected," Graham said. "When we come over ... to start our first proper big bus tour [the Darkness will play a sold-out show at the 9:30 club on Tuesday], it's already working and we haven't even come yet."
"Quick" might be an overstatement though as "Permission to Land," the band's debut album, finally broke out of its shell after five months on the shelves this January, exploding up the charts and earning the band gold sales recognition (500,000 units shipped) in March.
By that time, on the other hand, the band had already gone platinum three times over in the U.K. Still, when the Darkness made its first few stops in the United States last fall, it was not met with the 80,000 capacity, sold-out crowds it had in Europe. Their first proper show in the states took place in the seedy bowels of Baltimore, under the dim, smoky lights at Fletcher's Bar before a rabid crowd of 300 lucky souls. Not only was it a spectacle of the flesh, but it was also awkward. Fletcher's has a 10-by-10-foot stage and holds 300 people, when weeks earlier the Darkness had been playing sold-out arenas with the likes of Meatloaf and Robbie Williams.
This proved to be difficult for guitarist Dan Hawkins and bassist Frankie Poulain since "they don't like it when they bump into each other," Graham said. However, "Variety is the spice of life. Some shows of all different sizes we enjoy. Sometimes we enjoy really small ones. Sometimes the bigger ones are easier to get into in some respects."
Still, the band that put Lowestoft, England, on the map - and, according to Graham, might soon have a road named after it - is more grounded than hearsay and appearance might suggest. Not only do the band members throw parties for their closest friends on the few occasions they head home, but they are also a charitable lot.
In coordination with War Child, a network of independent organizations working across the world to help children affected by war, the Darkness took the stage at Bar Fly, the pub in which they established their roots, to raise money, according to a statement on the band's Web site, thedarknessrock.com.
"It's a small venue and it's where we started," Graham said of Bar Fly. "We used to play there once a month for a year back in the early days."
Though its detractors deride the band as a half-rate cock-rock band, the Darkness has had a stellar year. Going from an unknown bar band to the winner of three Brit Awards, the U.K.'s version of the Grammys, including the Brit for album of the year, the Darkness has made something out of nothing. Instead of absorbing the political correctness of garage rock, the band reached back and took something entirely politically incorrect, something devoid of all morals, and brought it screaming like a bat out of hell back to the masses in a glorious amalgam of glut and garishness.
With blessing from Brian May and fans including Prime Minister Tony Blair, the Darkness took England by storm. Songs about genital warts, heroin and love captured the minds of millions, providing windows of escape from the evils of a world overrun by suicide bombings, religious wars and the most horrible horror of all: emotional punk.
These four Brits, along with a number of other bands like Supagroup and the Burning Brides, are playing until their fingers blister and their ears bleed. They are the purveyors of rock's puerile side, and they are holding their own, with a spring in their stride and a twinkle in their dying eyes.
