Albums I Just Love So Much: The Darkness, One Way Ticket To Hell...And Back

I’ve had The Darkness on my mind a lot lately, and I’m not complaining. First, I discovered that bandleader Justin Hawkins, whose operatic falsetto and skintight catsuits made pop-metal a thing again for a brief, glorious moment in the early mid aughts, has been getting into the world of “reaction” videos and other forms of vloggy music criticism. He’s utterly delightful on YouTube, whether apologetically acknowledging how Bjork’s new one reminds him of 2 Unlimited or spending 15 minutes in silver rainwear, trying to explain why he really admires the vocal arrangement of Coldplay’s “Yellow." On top of the intellectual entertainment value of Justin Hawkins wryly but affectionately calling out the editing choices in a new Billy Idol video, it’s extremely validating to know that Hawkins, who has been to the top of the rock star mountain, short hairs exposed to the world, enjoys indulging in pop culture nerdery as much as I do. “Again with the music criticism! Can’t you just quietly enjoy art and create your own?” “No! And neither can Justin Hawkins!” The Darkness always suggested an effusive love for the history and community around rock at its most pop - have you heard their “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”? - and these videos only make that love more overt.

Hawkins is thankfully still showing off the pipes as well, singing “Under Pressure” with Queen (Roger Taylor standing in for David Bowie as he always did at Queen concerts) and “Back In Black” with AC/DC’s Brian Johnston at the Wembley Taylor Hawkins memorial concert this month. Wikipedia still tells people I think that “Under Pressure” is the best song of all time (still true!) so you best believe I have a strong opinions about attempts to cover it. And my strongest opinion concerns the second verse. David Bowie, likely aware he was collaborating with the most globally appealing rock band in music history, truly brought his A-game to the lyric. It’s a gorgeous, heartbreaking rumination on the necessity of love in the face of a soul-crushing world. It’s like watching a birthing video of the Stockdale paradox when Mercury asks why love is hard and Bowie actually explains why before they agree we’ve got to go for it anyway. Mercury and company had more to do with the music's operatic build-up than the words, which might be why…when Bowie steps back and Freddie Mercury steps up after the first chorus…Freddie goes “…day day de mm hm…da da da ba ba…okay…”

Things look up for at least one couplet: “chipping around, kick my brains around the floor/ these are the days it never rains but it pours.” But after that striking if not particularly coherent imagery, Freddie gives up and it’s all “ee do ba be! Ee da ba ba ba! Um bo bo! Be lap!” before Bowie comes back, admirably encouraging “people on the streets!” instead of sighing “let’s try again, shall we?” Lots of songs probably feature jabbering “lyrics TK!” nonsense while recording, but it was a brilliant bit of bravery for these five to keep Freddie's on the final edit (remember, Anthony Kiedis wasn’t famous yet). Have you seen that video where Prince follows Michael Jackson at a James Brown concert and steals the show by just vibing? Singing or playing a solo would have just gotten in the way of the anticipation Prince creates dramatically fucking the air and shrieking. Similarly, Freddie makes space for himself in Bowie’s philosophical drama by bringing UNCUT FREDDIE SCAT MAGIC rather than trying to translate his emotional magnanimity into English. If your cover doesn’t unapologetically embrace this madness, you shouldn’t be singing “Under Pressure.” Justin Hawkins, having devoted his career to celebrating such madness at the top of his lungs, should be singing “Under Pressure." I’m glad Roger Taylor - whose son drums for The Darkness now! - knows it.

I’ve recently waxed poetic about the second verse of “Back In Black,” which is almost as absurdly impressive as "Under Pressure"'s in its own way. According to Hawkins, Brian Johnston walked up to him backstage after “Under Pressure” and said Justin had to join him on stage and take it. No practice, no warning. Brian just squeezing “you got this, c’mon!” out of his legendary larynx. Even if that capped dynamo simply didn’t want to get a hernia trying it himself that night, tapping you for the verse might be the highest possible compliment one can receive in the world of classic rock today. While I can’t hope to compete with that, I can take this opportunity to say One Way To Ticket To Hell…And Back, The Darkness’ sophomore flop, is easily one of the best rock albums of the ‘00s, if not ever.

I’ve loved the album ever since its release in 2005, writing a rave review for…somebody…probably Stylus or a New Times…and putting it in my Pazz & Jop ballot. According to my old blog, I rated it the ninth best album of the year, between R. Kelly’s and Kelly Osbourne’s (I’m not linking to that. No, sir. Not happening.). Today, I’d put it in 3rd place, just behind Smog and Louis XIV and just above Low and The Mountain Goats. If you close this tab now, fair enough. I get it. But I swear my madness has method in it.

While no individual song on One Way Ticket can compete with “I Believe In A Thing Called Love” or “Growing On Me” on an anthemic level (certainly not commercially), the general song quality is way more consistent than on their 2003 debut Permission To Land, with producer Roy Thomas Baker (the man nodding behind the board for such classics as A Night At The Opera, The Cars, One On One and Pack Up The Cats) earning his keep if all he did was say “let’s try again, shall we?” The jokes never get in the way of a song’s emotional thrust, said thrust always buttressed by multi-tracked solos, multi-tracked harmonies, and, when it wouldn’t be tacky, strings. I’m a big fan of albums where every track could be a single, even if they didn’t manage to get one big enough to launch the hypothetical deluge. That’s A&R’s problem, not mine! (Personally, I would have gone with the Scot-seduction of “Hazel Eyes” or “Knockers” - with its apologetic, sincere “and I just love what you’ve done with your hair!” - as a first single instead of the title track, merely witty in comparison.)

But why do I like it even more now than I did then? Well, I belatedly realized it’s a goddamn concept album! Or at the very least, it has serious thematic unity. “Knockers,” “Dinner Lady Arms,” “Bald,” “Hazel Eyes”…so many references to body parts! It turns out Hawkins was going through an emotional wringer at the time, ashamed of how badly he was treating his long-time girlfriend in the rush of new fame, eventually getting his dick pierced as penitence, going into rehab and quitting the band (the third Darkness album wouldn’t come until 2012). One Way Ticket, for all its pomp and circumstance, is all about a guy at the peak of his career, lashing himself for failing to accept the effects of age on himself and the woman he loves.

The album opens with Hawkins’ “septum in shatters and I’ve still got the runs,” but delighted by his old flame: “you’re potty-mouthed and brassy, anything but classy, I’ve just got to get you back.” Still, the rock star life is isolating, even in little ol’ England (“You’re up at John O’ Groats, I’m down in Land’s End”) and rare does someone want to be told “I couldn’t figure out where your figure had gone” even if you still want their “dinner lady arms” around you. So our hero is left bawling that it seemed like a good idea at the time, shrieking “I love you, I love you, I love you so much” in desperation just before the keytar solo, having to settle for the occasional exotic fling (“I had never seen a set of hazel eyes more hazelerer”) and knowing he’s still got his hair (“Bald, he is destined to be! Bald, well tonight thank God it’s him instead of me! Thank God!”). “Mucking about while we were making out” in an “English Country Garden” ends with him getting broody as she gets moody, and finally our hero is left a “Blind Man,” tears falling on deaf ears, fantasizing “of standing next to some children doing singing.” “With his arteries starting to harden, she is gone. She is gone and it’s all wrong.”

WOW! All that in 35 minutes! Just like the good old days! Dismissed as “the world’s most expensive penis joke” by po-faced critics who couldn't imagine having their emotions and wryly mocking them too, let alone over guitars that are, like, double guitars, the album went gold instead of multi-platinum, single 3 barely cracking the top 40 in England, me having to find its amazing video for myself years later in the US. Thankfully, everyone seems to be happy and healthy  - Justin's a married vegan dad! - and I still need to hear 2019’s Easter Is Cancelled (featuring the opening track “Rock and Roll Deserves To Die,” how was I not informed?!). You can go listen to One Way Ticket for the first time in a long time, if ever, and think wistfully about that brief musical moment in the ‘00s that was weirdly like the ‘80s, only kookier. And then scroll around Justin’s channel! He's got fifteen minutes called “Let Me Explain Why AC/DC Are So Good!” And he’s holding up Powerage on his phone in the screencap, so I think he knows! Maybe that's why Brian recognized him!

(One Way Ticket To Hell...Back is currently ranked number 125 on My Favorite Albums Of All Time list, between Burning Spear's Marcus Garvey and Al Green's Gets Next To You. The latest, only slightly outdated posting of the Top 300 is here. I'm telling you this because I've found people are more inclined to discuss and share reviews if there's a quantitative element at the top or bottom they can easily debate. Prove me right!)