Ten Years On: The Darkness - 'One Way Ticket to Hell...and Back'

It's been a strange decade for The Darkness, having been through more ups and downs than the average rollercoaster, with more rock n' roll tales from ten years' worth of music than lesser mortals will endure in a lifetime.

Bursting into British popular music with shit-kicking debut 'Permission to Land' in 2003, the band enjoyed a hugely successful multi-faceted bullseye, totting up several victories in a short space of time: being the first unsigned band to sell out London's legendary Astoria and injecting much-needed life into rock's decaying corpse as it was being kicked around by indie hipsters.

As is often the case, a speedy rise ensures a similarly speedy descent, and the masses who bought into The Darkness' immediate popularity were suddenly nowhere to be seen for album number two, 'One Way Ticket to Hell....and Back'. A year after its release, frontman Justin Hawkins would underdo rehabilitation treatment for alcohol and coke addiction, leaving the band and leaving the remaining band to become Stone Gods. Hawkins, meanwhile, would return to action with the excellent Hot Leg.

While The Darkness are happily together again - albeit minus original drummer Ed Graham - history has a habit of passing (and pissing) over their unloved second album. Here, ten years on from its release, I wish to make the case for its recognition as one of the best British albums ever made.

Where 'Permission to Land' blew everyone's faces clean off with a giddily inspired mixture of snotty punk exuberance, near-perfect rock balladry, cannonball guitar riffs, Brit-wit and Hawkin's inimitable falsetto wail, the follow-up displayed a sense of world-beating maturity - but without losing the humour.

The impression from having listened to 'One Way Ticket...' more than my mother's voice is a disc where each gilded track stands impressively aloft on its own two flicked-v fingers, and still flows perfectly well in a single sitting. Where there was belligerence ('Get You Hands Off My Woman'), there was now a greater sense of scope and scale, with every single facet of the band sounding monstrously HUGE.

Hawkin's fantastic vocal range sears through each song in an impressive array of styles, a perfect narrator for chucklingly witty lyricisms. Who else can inspire childhood memories of school with the gorgeously anthemic 'Dinner Lady Arms'? The vocals are also produced to glossy perfection, with exactly the right amount of ghost-Justins popping up for sporadic backing vocals and harmonies.

Moving on to the music itself, there is the same subtle hints of serious guitar skills from Justin and brother Dan with considered deployments of widdly-widdly solos and acoustic flourishes, such as the verse to 'Hazel Eyes', which subsequently explodes into a chorus of mountainesque power chords and heaven-sent guitar licks, all the while punctuated with cannonfire drumming and powerful bass.

While almost every track is lyrically entrenched in lurve, the title track is a fantastically-told story of Hawkin's cocaine addiction: 'I always tried to keep my vices under wraps/but a coach-load of mutes would have been talkative chaps'. Setting the course for the rest of the album, there is spades and spades of sheer wit, catchy invention and polished-to-perfection balls-out rock.

There are absolutely no low points, perhaps except for when 'Bald' and 'Blind Man' get a little serious in tone. The sprawling gorgeousness of 'Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time' is this album's answer to earlier single 'Love is Only a Feeling', and is an excellent sequel of sorts. While these songs burst a few of the party balloons momentarily,they are surrounded by bollock-burstingly-brilliant hymns that, above all else, must be applauded for being something that precious few bands seem to manage these days: FUN.

Like an unloved gifted child who turns to heroin during a traumatic parental divorce, 'One Way Ticket...' lay weeping in the corner as The Darkness underwent their meltdown. An incredible record such as this deserved far better in terms of a stable line-up to support it. A fat (middle) finger must also be pointed at everyone who enthused about their debut - hipsters and midlife crisis dads alike - who couldn't be arsed to stick with the band just as they produced their golden egg. 

Since their reformation, The Darkness have produced two more albums of knockabout British rock n' roll, thankfully carrying their hallmarks and ensuring their continued existence as a functioning band. But for a catastrophically brief moment in their history, at their most fragmented, a once-in-a-lifetime album was born in the worst possible conditions for its deserved recognition.

If you love witty, loud rock n' roll with just the right amount of polish and heart, I implore you to pick up a copy of this tragically overlooked album. It may just be the best thing you've ever heard.

10/10

Review: Bumblefoot - Little Brother is Watching

Ron ‘Bumblefoot’ Thal hasn’t had a chance to properly grace us with his brand of methodical musical madness for quite some time. For those who wondered what the feck was up with Guns N’ Roses these days and investigated, you’ll be aware that Thal has spent considerable time lending his  guitar wizardry to them. Now his tenure may have reached a conclusion, and we have Little Brother is Watching, his first full-length since 2008’s Abnormal.

And boy, is it welcome. Brilliantly bright lead guitars permeate Thal’s signature flavours of slightly cartoonish modern pop-rock eccentricities, where a vocal hook takes residence in your brain and forces you to hum it, before he utilises his stunning string-melting shredtastic sorcery and tastefully kicks the door down with a good old guitar solo.

Indeed, one of Thal’s many gifts is to know exactly when to unleash his formidable ability and give a song just the right guitar solo: he also knows when not to, proving equally adept at allowing his axe to sing in its own voice that melodically duets with the music – and with Thal’s own voice, which is impressive in itself.

Abnormal was seen as the ‘evil twin’ to 2005’s bright-eyed Normal, and appeared to take on a punk edge to some of the tracks, with cuts like Piranha proving ferocious. Little Brother is Watching places itself unapologetically in the pop-rock arena, with witty and touching lyricisms duelling with tasty riffs, singalong leads and distinctive vocals that deserve to help establish Ron Thal as a force to be celebrated.

Overall, Little Brother is Watching already has the competition pinned to the wall. If there is a God, it will coax listeners away from mainstream pap and towards a multi-talented, honest and musically fearless individual who has proven himself capable of great things and worthy of your attention.

He’s far more than a Bumblefootnote.