Mark Mallman is a man who seems to live a vampiric lifestyle, coming alive when there are no remaining shards of light to be found in the air, just a pall of sinful blackness, with the neon bulbs and streetlamps blaring their artificial glows. He's seen during the regular daytime hours, but just as the actual daytime comes clean in his song "Eternal Moonshine," he may actually be moonshine wearing a mask of daylight just to pass the time faster and get to the good stuff, when cavorting and the more dastardly of persuasions are on display. It's when it's socially acceptable to crack the tops of one beer can after another, when it's understood that there may be some glass breaking or some noses broken, some wives and girlfriends hit on, some loud rock and roll played through the cigarette smoking and some shameful walks in the light the morning after.
His leather jackets and his tight jeans are nighttime attire and his songs - glam rock masterpieces - are for those, sunken into an evening, to manically sing along to, with one arm lovingly around the shoulder of a stranger to the left and the other doing the same to a stranger on the right. It should be with abandon that this happens for the way that Mallman writes on "Invincible Criminal" and on all older work is in deference to there being anything worth getting up before five in the afternoon for. He sings that we should probably just gather round and "drink to the madness of it," and one could argue themselves red on most days and still not come up with a reason not to do such a thing. It's all madness and still, it finds a way to consume us and keep us hostage in a way. We're at the mercy of our day times, when we're forced to be a breadwinner and a dutiful employee, but the second the clock is punched, we're allowed to become human again, getting shifty and thirsty and letting Mallman take us to his lair of uninhibited instinct, where we're imbued with glamorous introspection from a different universe.