Detroit got a turbo-charged reminder of what unapologetic rock spectacle looks like Saturday night, as The Darkness rolled into Saint Andrew’s Hall and turned the historic venue into a sweat-soaked revival tent for glam, grit and maximum-volume mayhem. Playing to a packed house, the Brighton-bred outfit unleashed a 17-song barrage capped with four encores — the kind of set that leaves ears ringing and spirits lifted, a throwback and a triumph all at once.
Justin Hawkins remains a singular frontman in the rock cosmos — part Freddie Mercury, part vaudeville mischief-maker, part punk cartoon sprung to life. Storming the stage in trademark flamboyance, his falsetto soared to cartoonish, sky-splitting heights, detonating “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” with the force of an arena inside the Hall’s brick walls. Every high kick, every cheeky aside, every vocal daredevil act reinforced his place as both commander and court jester of this raucous circus.
Counterpoint comes courtesy of brother Dan Hawkins, who posted up stage left like a stoic gunslinger, his molten riffage the ballast to Justin’s manic theatrics. Frankie Poullain, all velvety cool and disco-shaman flair, kept the low end both strutting and dangerous, while Rufus “Tiger” Taylor drove the night forward with an artillery barrage behind the kit. Son of Queen’s Roger Taylor, he isn’t merely carrying a legacy — he’s shoving it into overdrive, every crack and thump a statement of intent.
Setlist-wise, the band zigged from hits to cult cuts with unrelenting velocity. “Growing on Me,” “Love Is Only a Feeling” and deeper fan favorites all landed like knockout swings, punctuated by guitar heroics, hair-whipping chaos and Justin’s well-tuned antics — from climbing rigs to breaking the fourth wall with fans. Saint Andrew’s floor shook, sweat rained from the rafters, and the collective voice of Detroit roared back with every chorus.
By the time the last encore fizzled into cheers, the crowd was spent, drenched and ecstatic — a mass of strangers turned comrades by volume, spectacle and the sheer cartoon genius of The Darkness. It wasn’t just a concert; it was a rock ’n’ roll exorcism with glitter on top. Personal standout moment? Drummer Rufus Taylor hurling a shout-out mid-set, sealing the night with both thunder and camaraderie.
Detroit didn’t just get a gig. It got a resurrection — and The Darkness proved, once again, that they’re among the last true keepers of the rock flame.
All photos by Maximus Reid:
