The Darts US Midnight CreepWatch at the source

Seattle’s all-grrl garage-punk vixens The Darts kick off their new album cycle with “Midnight Creep,” the first advance single from their upcoming LP Halloween Love Songs, out March 3. The single drops Tuesday, January 13 on Adrenalin Fix Music (EU) / Meow Hiss Music (US) and finds the band slipping deeper into the spooky, campy, 60s-trash universe they’ve been flirting with since day one. If you’ve ever wished the Back From the Grave comps came with a dance craze, you’re already in the right neighborhood. The Darts have spent the last decade carving their name into the global underground with Farfisa-first garage chaos, big European tours, multiple sold-out vinyl runs, KEXP sessions, cult-classic festival appearances, and fans ranging from Dave Vanian to Stephen King to Jello Biafra. The current lineup, Nicole Laurenne (vocals/keys), Rebecca Davidson (guitar), Lindsay Scarey (bass), and the returning Rikki Watson (drums), feels like the most dialed, dangerous, and joyfully unhinged version of the band yet.

“Midnight Creep” started as a surprise curveball when Lindsay brought Nicole a demo called “Phantom Creep.” Nicole was already quietly writing a Halloween-themed album and immediately heard a chance to chase something different: an honest-to-ghoul 60s-style monster dance, the kind that might’ve aired on a haunted Shindig episode taped in a basement full of fog machines and paper-mâché bats. She rebuilt the tune into a slinky, organ-driven earworm; Lindsay created a simple, go-go-friendly choreography; and suddenly The Darts had a Halloween banger that felt both brand-new and weirdly familiar.

They’ve been testing it on the road for months, from Switzerland to Cincinnati, and everywhere in between. The reaction has been instant every night. Whole rooms start doing the dance without needing to be shown. It’s instinctive, like the ghosts of old 45s are moving people around by the hips. To bottle that energy, they teamed up with Frogman director Anthony Cousins, who shot a gloriously campy video steeped in B-movie mood: basement gloom, creature-feature attitude, and the dance front and center for anyone ready to join the creep. It looks like the lost midnight-movie segment the 60s forgot to broadcast.

By Nicole Laurenne and Lindsay Scarey (BMI)