Danko Jones bounded out of Toronto in 1996 as a well-oiled power trio that sweated irony. The eponymous singer had the persona of a stand-up comic with an indie rock band on the side, but when Jones hit the stage, he flaunted a feather boa and sick guitar chops -- like a fruity Jimi Hendrix. Sporting matching suits and disaffected glares, the band pumped out a punky but groovy backbeat; it was cock rock as envisioned by a hermaphroditic Ramones cover band, and it was damn good.
Constant touring earned Danko Jones success in Canada, where a healthy sense of humor is a given. The band also did well in Europe, though it took until 2004 to land a U.S. record deal. But as is often the case with rock bands offering comic commentary on the genre, there's little choice but to get better and more serious after years of touring. Hence Jones has dispensed with frilly fashions, and the band has settled into a metal-festival schedule. But all that time spent touring has limited Jones' ability to concentrate on songwriting, as evidenced by the latest CD, We Sweat Blood, which is only half-hot. But the live show is still an undisputed bawdy blast.