Published on Mar 30, 2004
The older I get, the more I realize that there is no accounting
for some people’s taste. How else can we explain the popularity of
Britney Spears? Watermelon-flavored vodka? Hitting yourself in the
balls repeatedly with a hammer and calling it music?
In the last case, this seems to be the modus operandi for Justin
Hawkins and The Darkness, whose debut album
Permission To Land has been growing in popularity over the
last few months. I honestly can’t understand why. With sophomoric
songs featuring more recycled Queen riffs than a used record store,
and Hawkins’s vocals which are so high-pitched your dog will yelp
in pain, this British quartet dares to be living proof that if you
have the right image, any schmuck can land a record contract.
Unless you have the lyrics right in front of you, it’s damn near
impossible to understand what Justin Hawkins is screeching about.
Possibly the music — provided by guitarist Daniel Hawkins, bassist
Frankie Poullain and drummer Eddie Graham — would be a passable
tribute to ’70s hard rock, but the overreliance on falsetto vocals
ends up hurting the cause. Makes me think that King Diamond should
come down, kick Justin Hawkins’s ass, and show him the right way to
use the falsetto.
As it stands, though,
Permission To Land is a difficult album to get through once,
and is not one you’ll want to listen to again after the initial
spin. Tracks like “Black Shuck,” “Love On The Rocks With No Ice”
and “Get Your Hands Off My Woman” all sound too campy to be taken
seriously, and come off more annoying than entertaining. This, I
don’t think, was the band’s intention.
Note that I’ve said nothing about the appearance of the band,
including Justin Hawkins’s obvious obsession with Robert Plant. I’m
no idiot; I know that image is a lot in the music business these
days. Too bad, ’cause without their goofy on-stage looks, their
music ain’t worth shit. Dress these guys up in blue jeans and
flannel shirts (and shave that Village People-like moustache off of
Poullain) and you’ve got a band who’ll get booed off the stage at
your local watering hole.
I know, I’m paid to write about the music, not the image. If
only there was more to say about
Permission To Land than it should be intercepted mid-air and
shot down.