Album review: The Darkness – Dreams On Toast

By STEVE MASCORD

“Our next long player is coming out soon/I’ll be honest: I’m under the moon.”

So are we Justin, so are we. But how rude of me to interrupt…

“We’re only doing this cause it’s fun. Don’t even think my mum bought the last one.”

The Darkness’ recorded output has lurched increasingly into a realm of mockery without consequences or explanation. We’re all just supposed to tap our feet and sing along without asking what’s a joke and what’s not, for fear of being labelled stupid.

And this tendency has reached its ultimate conclusion with the latest album Dreams On Toast, as much of a conundrum as any LP the reviewer has ever heard.

The poser – pun intended – comes right off the bat with “Rock’n’Roll Party Cowboy”, a song with a wicked riff that mocks people who like wicked riffs. Rock’n’roll party cowboys, you see, ain’t gonna read no Tolstoy or eat no bok choi. So why are you mocking them in exactly the sort of song they would like? What, exactly, is the point you’re trying to make, brothers Hawkins? When you quote Jon Bon Jovi are you saying long-haired rock’n’roll is trite, or….

What follows is a curious melange of songs which seem to be done – to quote Justin – because they’re fun for the four members of the band and with not much other objective in mind.

“Hot On My Tail” is quite simply about farting. You can understand this sort of topic if it’s Steel Panther, who are mocking from within the joke. But the Darkness sometimes stand outside the joke pointing in – as in “Rock’n’Roll Party Cowboy” – and then at others adopt the role of the protagonist inviting others to laugh at him.

Whose side are they on?

My favourite song on most records by most bands is the one that sounds most like AC/DC and “Mortal Dread” is “Shoot To Thrill”, changed the way you would alter a t-shirt logo to avoid litigation. But it strikes the right note lyrically too, injecting gentle humour into the relentlessly unsettling experience of being middle aged and in “brackish waters, neither here nor there”.

For once, the lyrics aren’t fighting against the music – as they have on Darkness albums for years now, in ditties like “Bald” and “Dinner Lady Arms”.

“Mortal Dread” is actually the second best song on the album – the best is “Walking Through Fire”, which includes the lyrics at the top of this review. Because despite the impression those lyrics may create, there is no conceit, no forced cuteness. When Justin sings “we never stopped making hit albums – it’s just that no-one buys them anymore”, it’s completely consistent that his mother might be among the apathetic. He’s putting his life on the line for rock’n’roll and walking through fire and we believe him.

A great Darkness song

Elsewhere, conceit is in abundance – contradiction and mockery for mere effect, for cheap laughs.

“Weekend In Rome”, with its spoken word intro from actor Stephen Dorff, tries to come off all Fellini. “Battle For Gadget Land” is a kinda-catchy New Wave song with comedic rapping. “Cold Hearted Woman” is a country romp in which Justin decides to abandon knowing irony almost completely (although there is a passage where you think he’s going to say “cock”). “I Hate Myself”, despite or perhaps as a result of its simplicity, has a hint of greatness. “The Longest Kiss” is Queen at their most whimsical and disposable.

It’s perhaps an admission of defeat for any reviewer to rely on someone else to sum up their thoughts … so here’s my white flag. From the podcaster Michael Butler: “Do I fault them for veering off and experimenting? No I don’t. But do you have to veer off so many (ways) in one album?”

But Michael concludes “they’re The Darkness and they can do whatever they want”. It’s an aspect of the band’s level of fame (an arena act at home whose new albums – by their own admission – their own mum doesn’t hear) but moreso of the atomised nature of the music industry today that they can be so blindingly self-indulgent and no-one will notice.

It’s even confusing which of the bonus tracks is about which member’s deceased dog.

Buy The Darkness Dreams On Toast on CD or vinyl

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