Diamond Nights Popsicle

As fun as rock homage can be there comes a time when all of the good drunken fun is slept off and the embarrassment is realised in sobriety. Following in the footsteps of the Darkness and their major breakthrough copping the hedonism and the theatrics of Queen, Brooklyn’s throwback riff rockers Diamond Nights have similar goals, only trading Freddie Mercury for Phil Lynott. There’s no doubt the band have the knack for harking back to 30 years ago and knocking down all of the right guitar licks, fist-pumping rhythms and sexual bravado. However, as easy as it is to get lost in the air guitar tendencies, there’s still not enough strength here to hypnotise you into forgetting how farcical and derivative this album is. Morgan Phalen apes an accent that, on top of Lynott, seems torn between Ozzy and Kings of Leon’s Caleb Folowill. "Dirty Thief” and "Destination Diamonds” are so Lizzy-ish that the riffs within should be analysed by Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson to see if they can earn some royalties. The band are certainly tight and the production is aptly smooth and glossy but this is hardly intelligent music. So, unless you want to turn your brain off and let the good times roll, you’ll be stuck finding the flavour in Popsicle. (Kemado)