A glam-rock revival sermon, delivered with falsetto fury and unapologetic theatrical swagger that turned a weeknight into an electric hard rock celebration.
If there’s one thing Los Angeles never grows tired of, it’s a band unapologetically committed to excess. That’s why The Darkness’ return to the icon on Wilshire Blvd, The Wiltern, Wednesday night on their Dreams on Toast Tour felt less like a tour stop and more like a revival. It was an electrified communion of pounding drums, booming bass, and righteous guitar theatrics. Nineteen years after they first declared that they believed in “A Thing Called Love,“ the Hawkins brothers are still very much evangelists of hard-rock salvation, and judging by the sea of fans with knowing grins in the crowd, the congregation remains devout.
Before the neon red “The Darkness” logo lit up signaling the entrance of headline quartet, Irish singer-songwriter Mark Daly set the tone with a lean, muscular opening set. Daly’s voice carries that smoky, lived-in grit that suggests he’s spent enough nights on the road to earn every rasp. Backed by a tight band, he delivered melodic hard-rock anthems built on big choruses and honest emotion. It’s always tricky opening for a group as theatrically outsized as The Darkness, but Daly held his ground with a sincerity that cut through The Wiltern’s cavernous acoustics. By the end of his short set, he had the early arrivals nodding along—and a few even pulling out their phones to Shazam his songs, the modern indicator of a job done well.
Then came The Darkness, storming the stage in a flash of lights and swagger, instantly transporting the room to a world where irony is optional and showmanship is oxygen. Justin Hawkins, ever the glorious showman, arrived in a suit sans shirt, under a large flat brimmed cowboy hat that somehow felt understated for him, à propos for the opening number “Rock and Roll Party Cowboy” Within seconds he was stretching his falsetto to the rafters, flipping his mic between hands like a glam-rock juggler, and prowling the stage with the confidence of someone who knows he’s both the punchline and the punch—and revels in it.
The band tore through a setlist built on deep fan devotion: “Growing on Me” blasted open the night like a sprinting thoroughbred, while “Get Your Hands Off My Woman” had the room shouting the expletives with near-religious joy. By the fourth song, Justin had lost the jacket and appeared in his familiar bare chested tradition. Each song is a reminder and full of The Darkness moments that remind you why they’re still such a beloved oddity—because they commit, fully and joyfully, to the bit. Never taking themselves too seriously. Straight-faced and serious, Justin sang the Jeffery Osborne “On the Wings of Love” and the Jennifer Rush tune “The Power of Love.”
Sonically, The Wiltern did the band favors: Dan Hawkins’ guitar tone rang out with crisp clarity, allowing the riffs to slice through the high ceilings and theatrical excess. Rufus Taylor (yes, that Taylor lineage) was a machine behind the kit, keeping everything precise, even as the band gleefully teetered on the edge of chaos. Showcasing his multiple talents, he came out from behind the kit to sing and front the band for the song “My Only,” while Dan Hawkins manned the drums.
And of course, they saved “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” for near the end, whipping the crowd into one last ecstatic sing-along. Not a person in that room wasn’t grinning.
The Darkness didn’t just play a show—they reminded Los Angeles that rock can still be fun, ridiculous, skillful, loud, and all heart at once. And, on a weeknight at The Wiltern, that was exactly what we needed.
