"In 2026, there's no better celebration of all that's heroic and daft and delightful about hard rock than The Darkness." The Darkness in Auckland, New Zealand - live review

In 2012, famed London tourist attraction Madame Tussauds unveiled a waxwork figure of Justin Hawkins, frontman from The Darkness. It's the kind of honour usually reserved for the likes of the late Diana, Princess Of Wales, Ludwig van Beethoven and Napoleon Bonaparte, but Waxwork Hawkins wasn't just part of some mere historical display. Waxwork Hawkins had a job.

Fronting an exhibition called Air Guitar Star, in which ticket-holders could mime along to a series of popular tunes, Waxwork Hawkins would deliver pre-recorded pronouncements on their performances.

"Congratulations! You are a superior widdler," he'd say if their air guitarmanship was above par. "Played like a lily-livered jazz enthusiast!" he'd say if it wasn't.

Fourteen years later, Hawkins remains a superior widdler. The Darkness's stock has been rising steadily over the last decade, accompanied by a run of excellent albums and the well-deserved popularity of the Justin Hawkins Rides Again podcast, and in December, they'll headline the 20,000-capacity O2 in London. The Darkness, it would appear, are once again as big as they once were.

On the other side of the world, there's a little more work to be done. The venue is the Power Station in Auckland, and 1000 fans are crammed inside its beautifully air-conditioned interior. Abba's Arrival ushers the band onstage, before a long screech of feedback and a thumping Rock And Roll Party Cowboy gets the party underway. And what a party it turns out to be.

The Darkness are brilliant. They're rock solid, of course, but it's Hawkins' mischievous interactions with the crowd that make this show (and every other) unique. After Growing On Me, he apologises for cancelling the band's previous booking at the venue, when a chest infection curtailed a New Zealand tour in 2024.

"I cried," he says, sounding both sincere and entirely insincere at the same time. "I literally cried. Tears! From my eyes! So we're gonna make it up to you." Get Your Hands Off My Woman follows, and within two minutes, he's performing a headstand on the drum riser, tapping his feet together in time with the music. Job done.

Motorheart is friskiness personified, with a fiery solo. During Walking Through Fire, Hawkins trains the audience to march on the spot, turning to both left and right, their movements mirrored by the musicians onstage. Barbarian begins with Justin, now shirtless, alone in the spotlight, torso and tattoos gleaming, and ends with a frenzied climax from drummer Rufus Taylor, the new boy who's somehow been in the band for more than a decade.

Love Is Only A Feeling is an arm-waving, fist-pumping celebration of musical communion, the crowd doing the heavy lifting on the chorus, freeing Justin to concentrate on the high bits. Brother Dan Hawkins takes over the kit on My Only, allowing Rufus to sing, before Heart Explodes prompts some Radio Gaga-style handclaps from a crowd who are, by now, feverishly committed to the cause.

As the night progresses, things get sillier. Before an epic cover of Jennifer Rush's The Power Of Love, Hawkins tentatively sings the opening lines of Crowded House's Don't Dream It's Over, as if to ingratiate himself with the locals. "I don't actually know this song," he confirms. "I'm just trying to ingratiate myself with the locals."

There's a jaunty thrash through The Longest Kiss. An a capella introduction to Friday Night. A swift burst of Led Zeppelin's Immigrant Song. And, before the closing I Believe in a Thing Called Love, a polite request to the audience to put their phones away. "Like the time before phones," says Justin, wistfully.

After an old-fashioned wait for an encore, allowing time for the frontman to change out of his silver loon pants into a more sombre suit, chaos reasserts itself. Hints of their own Black Shuck and the intro to AC/DC's Thunderstruck – including some more superior widdling from Justin – give way to One Way Ticket, and a riotous I Hate Myself finishes the night, with a drum solo from Rufus that might be less than a second long, and multiple endings that somehow collide to form the riff from Led Zeppelin's Heartbreaker.

In 2026, there's no better celebration of all that's heroic and daft and delightful about hard rock than The Darkness. National treasure status successfully attained, it's surely time the entire band were cast in wax.