It couldn't be more fitting, either. What would rehashed guitar riffs and cheesy lyrics be without an ego to match?

Although the band's debut, Permission to Land, had the must of 25 year-old rock n' roll, there were moments when the album delivered. The heavier songs ("Get Your Hands Off My Woman", "I Believe in a Thing Called Love") had an authentic energy, and the ballads ("Love Is Only a Feeling", "Holding My Own") were less dated. It's a shame that the same can't be said for their sophomore effort, One Way Ticket to Hell…and Back.

Most groups would take (valid) criticism to heart. Instead of moving on from their debut and cultivating a unique sound, The Darkness became more enveloped and drowned in nostalgia.

The album opens with a single-note choral build before breaking out into Jethro Tull era flute. Less than a minute in, the music fades out, and we're exposed to what is presumably someone (Hawkins?) snorting coke. If that wasn't enough, the music is brought back in to the beat of a cowbell. Within sixty-two seconds, the clichéd atmosphere of the album is set.

If the music is bad, the lyrics are worse. In "Knockers", Hawkins exclaims, "You're potty-mouthed and brassy/anything but classy/I've just got to get you back". In "Girlfriend", he yelps, "Girlfriend, I love you, I love you, I love you so much". Whether he's aiming for seriousness or amusement, he falls short.

The insert contains lyrics and photos, but the album art is downright silly, with the sneering countenance of The Devil appearing in the exhaust of a train on its way to Hell (or back). The art is so overly glossy, you have to wonder if The Darkness got a hot deal on material from a baseball card company.