The Darkness / Million Dollar Reload at The Ulster Hall
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Experiencing something of a rebirth five years after frontman Justin Hawkins jumped ship for some much-needed rehabilitation, The Darkness return to Belfast tonight a band riding the wave of new-found success and a more laudable reputation than ever before. Sure, they鈥檝e encountered their fair share of derision and mockery in their time, but there鈥檚 a vague sense that, this time, they mean business. However, the question remains: is there any truth to this and 鈥 more importantly - is it finally time to cut them a bit of slack?
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If there was ever a band suited to getting tonight鈥檚 demographic ready and raring to go, Million Dollar Reload would be it. In a set taking in Phil Conalane鈥檚 razorblade, brilliantly Bon Scottesque vocals and guitarists BAM and Andy Mac鈥檚 jawdropping guitar work throughout, anthems including 鈥楾attoos and Dirty Girls鈥 and 鈥楲ivin鈥 In The City鈥 go down a storm, while new material including 鈥業 Am The Rapture鈥 and 鈥楤ullets In The Sky鈥 prove to be watertight, balls-to-the-wall fist-punchers that should see the Northern Irish five-piece well and truly arrive. A truly barnstorming performance in all and, if consensus is anything to go by, Million Dollar Reload are not only the finest rock n鈥 roll band on this island, they鈥檙e currently right up there with the best of their kind anywhere in the world.
With the Ulster Hall bunged and expectation rife in the air, Justin Hawkins and the rest of The Darkness triumphantly emerge to ABBA overture, 鈥楢rrival鈥 (what else?) before kicking straight into the AC/DCesque 鈥楤lack Shuck鈥. Commanding in ways only he can 鈥 in a tartan suit and There Will Be Blood beard - Hawkins鈥 well-rehearsed Freddy Mercurisms and Kate Bushesque falsetto ensure this opener makes for a statement of intent, wonderfully sustained on the oddly nostalgic 鈥楪rowing On Me鈥, b-side 鈥楾he Best Of Me鈥 (essentially Queen鈥檚 鈥楾ie Your Mother Down鈥 covered by Thin Lizzy circa Jailbreak) and octave-defying vocal acrobatics on 鈥極ne Way Ticket To Hell And Back鈥. Only a few songs down and you already get the impression The Darkness are on the top of their game.
With Hawkins鈥 upbeat announcement that it鈥檚 their last show of the year 鈥 鈥淟et鈥檚 make it a good one鈥 鈥 a celebratory, unmistakably pre-Christmas atmosphere takes hold during the impossibly catchy 鈥楪et Your Hands Off Of My Woman鈥 and the frontman鈥檚 lone acoustic rendition of the strangely poignant 鈥楬olding My Own鈥. Whilst the band re-emerge and thoroughly command on 鈥楲ove Is Only A Feeling, it鈥檚 riotous singalong 鈥楧ancing On A Friday Night鈥 that instils the party atmosphere yet further, with tonight鈥檚 crowd more than happily lapping up Hawkins鈥 handstands, over the top guitar solos and countless other charismatic manoeuvres.
In the end, a ridiculously over-the-top (but, somehow, totally convincing) cover of Radiohead鈥檚 鈥楽treet Spirit鈥, Hawkins鈥 mid-gig decision to don the classic pink leotard of yore and the almost inevitable airing of 鈥楥hristmas Time (Don鈥檛 Let The Bells End)鈥, The Darkness give two fingers to 鈥渃onvention鈥 and all the kneejerk disparagement that continues to taint their many talents. Like them or not, tonight you can鈥檛 possibly deny the guts and songwriting prowess of new track, the downright riff-fuelled 鈥楥annonball鈥, Hawkins鈥 brilliantly wry venturing throughout the crowd mid guitar-solo and a kick-ass, not-so tongue-in-cheek rendition of 鈥 yes - 鈥業 Believe In A Thing Called Love鈥. Sure, they鈥檙e still clowns, but they鈥檙e clowns that completely and utterly rock.
Brian Coney
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