There are concerts, and then there are full-blown spectacles — performances that exist beyond the confines of sound and lights, transcending into sheer rock-and-roll theater. Such was the atmosphere inside The Masquerade on a buzzing evening, as British glam-rock titans The Darkness brought their Dreams on Toast Tour to Atlanta. The venue, packed wall-to-wall with loyal fans clad in vintage band shirts, buzzed with palpable anticipation. Attendees were clearly primed not just for a musical performance, but for a dazzling display of charisma, nostalgia, and unfiltered energy. From the very moment the lights dimmed and the first guitar chord cracked through the air, it became evident: more than a concert, this was a celebration of excess, musicianship, and flamboyant showmanship.
Before diving into the night’s explosive set, it is essential to revisit the band’s remarkable ascent. Emerging in the early 2000s during a time when guitar-driven rock had faded from mainstream prominence, The Darkness forged their own path by embracing bombast, falsetto vocals, and unrepentant glam flair. Fronted by the electric Justin Hawkins, the band’s debut album Permission to Land (2003) became an instant classic, propelled by thunderous riffs and audacious lyrical wit. Hits such as “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” and “Love Is Only a Feeling” cemented their place in rock history. Though their trajectory was not without turbulence — internal struggles and temporary hiatuses punctuated their journey — the group has continually reemerged with renewed vigor. The Dreams on Toast Tour serves as a testament to their enduring legacy and refusal to compromise their identity.
As the proverbial curtains opened to reveal a vivid red backdrop emblazoned with The Darkness’ iconic cursive logo, an eruption of cheers greeted the band. Justin Hawkins strutted onto the stage in a striking blue velvet-like jacket, paired with form-fitting trousers and some kickass black steel-toed boots. His presence alone electrified the space. Soon after, he peeled off the jacket to reveal a baby blue long-sleeve shirt and a silk handkerchief wrapped dramatically around his neck. The transformation was only beginning. By the time the night reached its fever pitch, Hawkins stood bare-chested, dripping in sweat, performing splits mid-guitar solo and — at one jaw-dropping moment —standing completely on his head as if to defy both gravity and reason.
Hawkins, of course, is the gravitational center of The Darkness. His vocals soared with operatic precision, oscillating effortlessly between guttural growls and piercing falsetto shrieks. Yet his talent extends far beyond his vocal cords. He commanded the audience with the flair of a seasoned circus ringleader — cracking jokes, hurling playful insults, and encouraging synchronized hand claps with the flourish of a magician. Whether leaping across the stage or pirouetting on one foot, Hawkins radiated an irrepressible vitality that few frontmen possess. He seemed to be in constant dialogue with the crowd, equal parts performer and provocateur.
Nevertheless, The Darkness functions as a cohesive unit, each member contributing a unique element to the sonic tapestry. Dan Hawkins, Justin’s brother and the band’s lead guitarist, delivered blistering riffs and soaring solos with stoic intensity. His playing grounded the group, providing the muscular foundation upon which the performance was built. Bassist Frankie Poullain, ever the enigma with his handlebar mustache and ’80s themed suits, infused each track with groove-laden undercurrents. His nonchalant coolness and distinctive stage stance added an eccentric edge to the ensemble. Drummer Rufus Tiger Taylor, son of Queen’s Roger Taylor, brought thunder to the stage with relentless precision and dramatic flair. His drumming was equal parts explosive and nuanced, punctuating each song with dynamic flair that rivaled his legendary lineage.
The setlist spanned the breadth of the band’s discography, seamlessly weaving together deep cuts and beloved anthems. The crowd roared for early classics like “Growing on Me” and “Get Your Hands Off My Woman,” each delivered with riotous energy and crowd participation. A couple of tracks from the Motorheart and Easter Is Cancelled albums sat comfortably alongside older favorites, showcasing the band’s ability to evolve without losing their signature audacity. One of the evening’s standout moments came during “Love Is Only a Feeling,” where the room seemed to collectively sway under the weight of Hawkins’ emotive vocals and Dan’s soaring guitar lines. The synergy between performer and audience reached an ecstatic crescendo.
After a faux exit and theatrical blackout, the quartet returned to the stage for a one-song encore that brought the house down. With a sly grin, Justin Hawkins announced the final number — “I Hate Myself,” a satirical, swaggering anthem that balanced self-loathing with delicious irony. As the final chorus rang out and the stage lights flashed crimson against the red backdrop, the crowd erupted in a final cathartic cheer, before The Darkness exited in a haze of feedback and reverence.
The Darkness’ performance was more than a nostalgic romp through the glam-rock annals — it was a masterclass in theatrical musicianship and sonic bravado. Few bands possess the rare combination of technical prowess, fearless style, and unwavering commitment to entertainment. Even fewer can summon an entire venue into a shared, euphoric trance. On this leg of the Dreams on Toast Tour, The Darkness did just that.
LoudSound Magazine 
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