The Killers are one of those bands that, for me, comes up in conversation now and again. And that's weird, because I feel I should be talking about them a lot more than I do.
The reason being that. for much of the mid-late 2000's, they were huge. One of the biggest bands of all time. It seems bizarre that a Nevada-based band, fronted by a Mormon out of Utah, would end up having such an influence in Britain as they did, but there it is. I wonder, sometimes, if this is how America felt when the Beatles or One Direction crossed the pond the other way and made it big - this mix of appreciation for the musical talent on display and bewilderment as to how it took off as much as it did.
I think the Killers were one of those very few bands I latched onto as a teenager, nevermind the shitty meme songs or disparate singles I fixated on. Again, I was too wrapped up in my own shitty self to pay much attention to pop culture, but I definitely remember liking the Killers a lot - although that was tempered a bit by the exapseration of classic radio overexposure. I couldn't tell you if any of the lyrics spoke to me or if it was just the sound of them, but I definitely remember that they were the band that made me seriously think about what I considered 'good music', outside of niche interests like Gorillaz.
But for some insane reason, as good as their early work with Hot Fuss and Sam's Town, it was their third studio album, Day & Age, that I latched onto. I can't really explain it, but as much as I liked songs off of those first two, I hyperfixated on tunes like A Dustland Fairytale, Neon Tiger, Human and Spaceman. And while it's a good album, I knew for a fact that it wasn't up to the level of the first two albums. My mind was weird when I was young.
Then Battle Born came out, and it just wasn't as good, so I fell of the Killers really hard. But with that level of introspection, I thought I'd give one of the older albums a try - and, on recommendation from my sister Jade, picked the second one, Sam's Town.
Sam's Town is a deliberate attempt by the band to get away from their reputation as "Britain's Best American Band". The entire thing is steeped in themes and ideals unique to America - growing up in a small town and wanting to break out, the struggles that come with that conflict, the failed relationships and personal demons that occured in such a place. It's very personal to band frontman Brandon Flowers as a result, who openly admitted that it was an attempt to capture all the major events that got him to where he was at the time of it's recording. I wouldn't put it on the level of something like Pink Floyd's The Wall, but it's definitely something that comes from a personal place, and it can be hard to relate to those kind of themes if you didn't have a similar upbringing.
And while I don't relate, I'm very happy to say that the album makes up for it with an awesome sound. It's a step up for the band's high propduction levels, with a harder, more "rock" sound than even Hot Fuss had, deliberately shunning the synths and vocal effects for a more sincere acoustic performance. All in the name of capturing the "small town childhood" vibe. It's gritty, melancholy and raw, yet punctuated by a poetic lyricism, a combination of flowery yet unflinchingly honest that elevates it a step further.
So let's takle this one track at a time, as before.
---
Sam's Town
You gotta have balls the size of a semi truck to put your title track as the first in the album. That's not something a lot of albums do - you normally put it around the middle or near the end of the album to provide a crescendo to the themes and sound the album provides. This is the kind of power move you only do if you know for a fact that the track's gonna be a banger.
And Brandon had better count his lucky stars, because this song is like a musical cannon blast to the face. A huge, bombastic, warts-and-all anthem to growing up in small town Americana and a perfect summation of the album's themes to come - wanting to break out, failing relationships, the struggle to find identity. Awesome shit.
Although that makes this next track... weird.
Enterlude
This is just the voice of Brandon welcoming us into the album, set to a humble piano backing. I find it odd that this track isn't the first one on the album, considering that it's entire purpose. I guess Brandon didn't want us to get whiplash going from this to Sam's Town, but then that just results in whiplash the other direction, so I'm very confused by this track's placement here.
When You Were Young
This is one of the Killers' songs, and for good reason. Catchy, soulful and with an unforgettable hook, the song deals with the idea of finding personal salvation in somebody less-than-perfect, who doesn't quite match up to youthful ideals but proves to be exactly what you needed. They don't have to look like Jesus, but they just have to be there for you, and that's alright.
Bling (Confessions of a King)
Brandon claims that this song was about his dad overcoming his alcoholism and rejecting Catholicism to become a committed Mormon when Brandon himself was five. The song reflects this in the internal struggle of the singer, who at times seems to be two voices talking to themselves - one lamenting their poor circumstances, the other telling them that things aren't so bad and there's still a chance for them to get things together. Not my favourite, but it's definitely a powerful song in that context and I wouldn't blame anyone who did name it as their favourite.
For Reasons Unknown
Yet another signature Killers song. Utterly iconic guitar riff plus Brandon's vocals on the inherent pain of falling out of love for no discernable reason make for an unforgettable combo. Out of the (admittedly large) number of Killers tracks I care to go back to, this is absolutely one of the top three.
It does, however, feature the worst rhyne/lyric in the whole album:
There was an open chair
We sat down there, the open chair
Yeuch. Maybe a second draft would have caught this one, Flowers.
Read My Mind
A more low-key track (relatively speaking, the chorus is just as bombastic as anything else on the album), filled with a bittersweet melancholy. It reiterates the desire to break out of the limiting world of the small town that the title track presented, but throws a wrench into the works with the idea of having to leave something fundamental behind to make that dream work. It's all about the struggle to make peace with the idea that two people's dreams are incompatible, and wherever they can still make it work in spite of this.
And I can't find a way to make this paragraph funny, so here's a picture of a dog in a hat.
Uncle Johnny
I don't really vibe with this track very much - it's kind of forgettable, and rightly so when you see what songs it shares the album with. Also, it kind of lacks a lot of the poetry of the other songs, in my opinion - it's literally just about Brandon's uncle and his struggles with cocaine addiction, with nobody really knowing how to help him. In an album that's dripping with flowery (hah) imagery, its a bit of a let-down.
Bones
Time for an embarrassing confession. When I first listened to this song, I hated it.
And that was down to a huge, huge misunderstanding of the song's subject matter. Based entirely on the chorus alone, I thought it was about some creepy "nice guy" coming onto a girl who didn't like him. The chorus' use of lurid imagery of bones and skin and insisting it was "only natural" rubbed me completely the wrong way. So for over twenty years, I've hated this song. I hated whenever it came on the radio or on the CD player in the car and I would always push it as my least favourite Killers song based entirely on this premise.
Having re-listened to this song now, as an adult, with full understanding of where the band came from and in a better mindset to listen to the actual song... yeah, I was way off-base.
What I thought was a "nice guy" anthem is, in fact, an open defiance of conservative and superficial views on sexuality that frustrates his desire for intimacy and human contact. The singer isn't being gothic levels of creepy when he presses his lady love for sex, he's appealing to her to join him in an act that throws aside surface-level superficiality and gets down to the "bones" - what we're really about. It's simultaneously an appeal for sincere connection on both the physical and spiritual levels and a rebellion against the small-minded "wait until marriage" mindset that would tar this instinctive desire for contact as a sin.
So, yeah. Turns out, this song rules, actually. And now I hate my past self even more for being such a small-minded, media illiterate scrote who now needs a harder kick up the arse than ever.
Also, the music video has skeletons in it. And, as we all know, skeletons are hilarious.
My List
Another track that I struggle to maintain much enthusiasm for, in all honesty. I don't even really know what it's about. I think it's about a man trying to keep a relationship from going downhill, but the song itself is pretty forgettable. Not much to say about this one at all.
This River Is Wild
The main attraction of the Killers, aside from their sound, is the poetry of the lyrics. Brandon uses a lot of vague metaphor and imagery to leave the songs open for interpretation, even if he is trying to carry a specific theme across. For me, this song reiterates the album's overarching theme of Brandon's small-town roots, now focusing on the push-pull of his conflicting his desires. He wants to step outside his small world and experience the wild river of life, but he fears the risk that comes with it, of being swept up by the currents of the wider world and falling into failure without the safety net of his community to catch him.
Powerful stuff. And the song's genuinely not bad, either, but it obviously doesn't hold a candle to stuff like Bones, For Reasons Unknown or When You Were Young.
Why Do I Keep Counting?
A final reiteration of the album's themes. When one goes into the world, they're still full of so many questions about what to do and how to face the challenges that will inevitably be thrown at them. Brandon muses on wherever he'll have enough time to do the things he hopes to do, wherever he can overcome his personal demons to find what he wants, and struggles with aformentioned questions, wondering if his father (or possibly God?) could have given him the answers to conquer his fear.
Exterlude
Firstly, I don't think Exterlude's a word. Secondly, this is just Enterlude again but with more of the usual bombastic instrumentation and an extra verse tacked onto the start. I feel this would have worked better with some slight lyrical tweaks and - more important - if Enterluide had been the first track.
---
Going back to this album is... weird. I definitely remember listening to it before and liking it, but I don't remember taking it in very much. Granted, there's a fair chunk of songs here that aren't classics, but it's still a pretty great album - Bones, When You Were Young, For Reasons Unknown... they're all there and they're all iconic tracks. And now that I have a much better mind for understanding context and metaphor, it's all the better on the relisten. But I wonder now how it measures up to the first album, Hot Fuss, and if there's an argument to be made for which is better. Maybe the answer lies there, or maybe teenage me was fuill of it as usual.
Next time - Arctic Monkeys' "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not". A band I know that teenage me didn't gravitate to, so let's see if adult me can appreciate it better.
