In The Free World
Detox Darlings at
Southpaw, Brooklyn 3/19/03
By Victoria Cross of New York Waste
Group: JetSet Jenna, Spyder, Charles, Kenny and John Darling
Twas the night before Jihad
and all through the land not a creature was stirring except for one glam rock band,
Detox Darlings' whose van rolled down usually grid locked streets and across an eerily
empty Manhattan Bridge. Pres. Bush 48 Hour warning to Sadam Hussien to pack up the
palace and get outta Iraq had just expired. As the world gathered around their TVs
waiting news from the front line, NYC's premier glam-punk posse was plugging into
their line of Marshall amps at Southpaw, Brooklyn's newest entry into the best little
scene since Seattle. On the Iraq/Kuwait and Park Slope/Downtown borders holy heck
was about to break loose.
Produced by Spyder Darling "Thirst Things First" Detox Darlings eight song
CD is a heat seeking sonic reducer and at Southpaw, a rare detour from their usual
Continental, CBGB, Don Hills circuit, Detox proved that though thirst may be a priority
(as evidenced by the number of Brooklyn Lagers consumed on stage, kicking the living
snot out of their old school 70s style jams comes in a very close second.
Dissimilar to most lead singers shrieking their way to fame, fortune and future "Where
Are They Now" episodes Detox Darlings chanteuse par excellence JetSet Jenna
is more than just pent up rage. Whether she's rasping like a gutter cat (Smash Alley)
out with a few not so bright gal pals (Zombie Doll) itching for something to do (Get
Tattoos) or all dressed up with nowhere to go-go (Lounging In Leather) Jenna's pitch
perfect pipes can purr like a kitten on Ecstasy, roar like a tigress in tight pants
and left the brave souls at Southpaw who chose not to spend their potentially last
hours on Earth glued to CNN panting for more.
Mixed in with the "more chops than a butcher shop" talent of the boyz in
the band Detox Darlings come off as that rare breed of band that duck walks the tightrope
between power and parody - a fine tuned, well rehearsed good time a la the Rat Pack's
Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Co. who put in the hard work offstage to make it look
nice'n easy once the party starts on-stage.
The outcome was a 45 minute set (no encore, to leave the crowd hungry for the band's
next show at Continental on Mar. 29) with all the rock star trimmings - the wireless
lead guitarist Charles Darling prowls the stage like a leather cheetah, firing off
machine gun riffs with a flick of his wrist and toss of his meticulously messy hair
and tattooed and unglued bassist Kenny Darling, arguably the best dressed man in
rock'n roll, leaps around the stage like a Puerto Rican jumping bean all without
losing the beat or knocking over his beer. It's custom made rock, hot as a bitch
and guaranteed to scratch whatever itches ya.
Though the war in Iraqi and its potential impact on NYC were foremost in most people's
minds, Detox Darlings were determined to give the motley mob on Southpaw's dance
floor something else to think about. And it was clear from the ensuing shake, rattle
and rolling, that for this night at least, the thunder of an apocalypse poised to
happen in a place few could find on an unmarked globe was taking a blessed backseat
to the righteous authority of the reform universal temple of rock'n roll.
Be it a "Ticket to Tokyo" or a round trip "Back To Hollywood"
the only international politics JetSet Jenna and the Detox boyz are backing is a
party of the all night variety; an agenda that calls for jailbait, stay out late
"Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Cherry Bombs" instead of the atomic type. At the risk of blasphemy,
to paraphrase John Lennon, the late, great ex-mop-top himself all Detox Darlings
are saying, is give sleaze a chance.
For more info
go to www.detoxdarlings.net