Dreams on Toast with Glam, Jam, and Served Loud: The Darkness Live at Archer Music Hall - 9/9/2025
by Julia Hill
Arriving at Archer Music Hall in Allentown, Pennsylvania, on Tuesday night, I had a decent idea of what to expect from The Darkness. Having seen them on their last U.S. tour—and knowing their flamboyant legacy—I was fully prepared for heavy guitar riffs, shirtless torsos, and tongue-in-cheek humour. What I wasn’t prepared for was just how far they’d crank everything up to 11.
The Darkness has cultivated a fiercely loyal East Coast following, and by the time I arrived, the line outside was already buzzing. Familiar faces popped up from past shows, proudly rocking vintage tour tees and even sharing embroidered patches. Once through security and into the pit, the fog machines hissed, beers were raised, and the air was thick with anticipation (and possibly Axe body spray). It quickly became clear: this wasn’t going to be a polite trip down memory lane. No, The Darkness came to shred, sweat, and drag the audience into a glorious descent into rock ‘n’ roll mayhem—or maybe ecstasy? Still undecided.
Formed in 2000, the band skyrocketed to fame in 2003 with their debut album Permission to Land, which immediately topped the UK charts. What followed was a whirlwind of sold-out shows, major festival appearances, and an almost cartoonish rise to fame. But the party didn’t last. Bassist Frankie Poullain left in 2005, and the band officially called it quits a year later as frontman Justin Hawkins began his journey toward sobriety. Each member pursued different projects, but like any good rock soap opera, the group reassembled in 2011, dropped their third album Hot Cakes, and welcomed Rufus Taylor (yes, that Taylor) on drums in 2015. Since then, they’ve been touring solidly and creating cult classic albums that will enthral generations to come.
Often dismissed by critics as a “novelty band” due to their glam style and humorous lyrics, The Darkness continues to defy expectations. Sure, they’re theatrical—but underneath it all lies some seriously tight musicianship. Last night’s opener, “Rock and Roll Party Cowboy” from their new album Dreams on Toast, swapped out the usual “Black Shuck” and set the tone so thunderous my left ear is still negotiating its return to society. Rufus Taylor, in particular, played like a man possessed—relentless and razor-sharp.
Of course, what’s a Darkness show without a little chaos? Early on, Justin’s silver sparkle boots had him slipping around the stage like a disco figure skater. By the second song, “Growing on Me,” the boots (and socks) were off, but the falsetto remained gloriously untouched. In-ear monitor troubles followed, which he resolved by wearing them like a pair of headphones protruding from his ears. The sight had the band cracking up mid-song, turning a potential disaster into another hilarious, charming moment that only endeared them more to the crowd.
And the audience? Equally committed to the bit. At one point, Justin sat down on the edge of the stage for a spontaneous genealogy deep dive shared by a retired pharmacist of 22 years named John (who just wanted a guitar pick). Then there was a crowd-led shirt removal so their tech could “drum properly,” while Rufus—multi-talented menace that he is—showcased his vocals on “My Only.” The entire night walked the line between a rock concert and a fever dream. It was weird. It was wonderful.
The Darkness has cultivated a fiercely loyal East Coast following, and by the time I arrived, the line outside was already buzzing. Familiar faces popped up from past shows, proudly rocking vintage tour tees and even sharing embroidered patches. Once through security and into the pit, the fog machines hissed, beers were raised, and the air was thick with anticipation (and possibly Axe body spray). It quickly became clear: this wasn’t going to be a polite trip down memory lane. No, The Darkness came to shred, sweat, and drag the audience into a glorious descent into rock ‘n’ roll mayhem—or maybe ecstasy? Still undecided.
Formed in 2000, the band skyrocketed to fame in 2003 with their debut album Permission to Land, which immediately topped the UK charts. What followed was a whirlwind of sold-out shows, major festival appearances, and an almost cartoonish rise to fame. But the party didn’t last. Bassist Frankie Poullain left in 2005, and the band officially called it quits a year later as frontman Justin Hawkins began his journey toward sobriety. Each member pursued different projects, but like any good rock soap opera, the group reassembled in 2011, dropped their third album Hot Cakes, and welcomed Rufus Taylor (yes, that Taylor) on drums in 2015. Since then, they’ve been touring solidly and creating cult classic albums that will enthral generations to come.
Often dismissed by critics as a “novelty band” due to their glam style and humorous lyrics, The Darkness continues to defy expectations. Sure, they’re theatrical—but underneath it all lies some seriously tight musicianship. Last night’s opener, “Rock and Roll Party Cowboy” from their new album Dreams on Toast, swapped out the usual “Black Shuck” and set the tone so thunderous my left ear is still negotiating its return to society. Rufus Taylor, in particular, played like a man possessed—relentless and razor-sharp.
Of course, what’s a Darkness show without a little chaos? Early on, Justin’s silver sparkle boots had him slipping around the stage like a disco figure skater. By the second song, “Growing on Me,” the boots (and socks) were off, but the falsetto remained gloriously untouched. In-ear monitor troubles followed, which he resolved by wearing them like a pair of headphones protruding from his ears. The sight had the band cracking up mid-song, turning a potential disaster into another hilarious, charming moment that only endeared them more to the crowd.
And the audience? Equally committed to the bit. At one point, Justin sat down on the edge of the stage for a spontaneous genealogy deep dive shared by a retired pharmacist of 22 years named John (who just wanted a guitar pick). Then there was a crowd-led shirt removal so their tech could “drum properly,” while Rufus—multi-talented menace that he is—showcased his vocals on “My Only.” The entire night walked the line between a rock concert and a fever dream. It was weird. It was wonderful.
But amidst the havoc, the band delivered a solid, two-hour set stacked with both deep cuts and new material. Highlights included a blistering version of “Japanese Prisoner of Love” from their 2017 Pinewood Smile, a heartfelt cover of “The Power of Love,” and the soaring crowd-pleaser “I Believe in a Thing Called Love.” For the encore, the roles reversed: Frankie took over vocals for “Conquerors,” while Justin picked up the bass for the first time since 2015. And just when you thought they might pull things back together, the setlist got tossed, Justin teased the crowd with riffs from “We Will Rock You” and “Highway to Hell,” before launching into a gleefully chaotic rendition of “Sweet Child o’ Mine” with the mic handed to the audience, of course, because why not?
To say the night had “spontaneous moments” would be an understatement. The Darkness tore up the rulebook and used it to wipe sweat off a fretboard. And yet, beneath the disorder was a band that’s not only still standing, but thriving—tight, talented, and totally unafraid to laugh at themselves. Twenty years on, The Darkness still delivers face-melting solos and unfiltered fun. If rock is dead, someone forgot to tell them, and we should all be very, very grateful for that.
To say the night had “spontaneous moments” would be an understatement. The Darkness tore up the rulebook and used it to wipe sweat off a fretboard. And yet, beneath the disorder was a band that’s not only still standing, but thriving—tight, talented, and totally unafraid to laugh at themselves. Twenty years on, The Darkness still delivers face-melting solos and unfiltered fun. If rock is dead, someone forgot to tell them, and we should all be very, very grateful for that.
