Sometimes, when compiling the Sophieâs Choice of article that is a ‘rank the albums’ piece, it really just comes down to such petty points as production, artwork or â oh yes â grammar. When youâre rating the output of a band that delivers pinpoint-perfect arena pop as reliably as Nandoâs delivers deliciously spiced chicken delights, itâs all in the details. So, with The Killers’ glorious sixth album ‘Imploding The Mirage’ now in our earholes, letâs study the minutiae and work out which albums were human, and which were chancerâŠ
âDay & Ageâ (2008)
Given a spruce up and disco sparkle by Madonna producer Stuart Price, âDay & Ageâ came out fighting with the electro rock one-two of âHumanâ and âSpacemanâ and the epic desert storm of âDustland Fairytaleâ. And by mortal standards, the rest of the album sizzled too, but for The Killers its latter half showed mild signs of song-writing fatigue â understandably, perhaps, given that they’d battered out three albums in four years.
âThis Is Your Lifeâ simply smashed âRoad To Nowhereâ into âThe Lion Sleeps Tonightâ and hoped for the best; the salsa smarm and sax riffs cheesed-up a nifty tune on âI Canât Stayâ and Big Belters like âNeon Tigerâ and âGoodnight, Travel Wellâ fell flat in comparison to the cathedral demolishers they slapped all over âSamâs Townâ.
Also: somehow everyone nodded enthusiastically and green-lit the lyrics without anyone piping up, “Um â sorry, I know we got away with that whole soul/soldier business, but surely ‘Are we human or are we dancer?’ is a meaningless and unforgivable disembowelment of the English language in its bed, right?â. It’s still a tune, though, mind.
âBattle Bornâ (2012)
Boasting four producers plus the band, âBattle Bornâ was stylistically all over the shop â the shop in question being Massive ’80s Soundland. But if you re-tune your ears to filter out any hints of Bryan Adams and Meatloaf, âBattle Bornâ was a strong, solid and consistent collection of tunes, with âRunawaysâ and âMiss Atomic Bombâ matching âSpacemanâ and âWhen You Were Youngâ for pomp pop clout, âDeadlines And Commitmentsâ clambering aboard the Fleetwood Mac bandwagon and âFrom Here On Outâ gleefully swinging its partner around the Bruce barn-dance. Stadium-worthy stuff.
‘Wonderful Wonderful’ (2017)
It strutted into sight with a cocky tap of its sequinned Stetson with âThe Manâ, but The Killersâ fifth album ‘Wonderful Wonderful’ was all about the woman. Namely Brandonâs wife Tana, whose personal struggles formed the backbone of the album on tracks like âRutâ, inspiring the band to reach beyond the nostalgic Americana bombast of âBattle Bornâ for more intricate and evocative textures. So while the title track stirred up the earthy tones of â80s art rock (Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel), âThe Callingâ brought a whole new level of Biblical attitude and âSome Kind Of Loveâ saw them commune with the spirits.
Not that they pulled any power-rock punches, either â âTyson Vs Douglasâ felt like going seven rounds with Don Henleyâs âBoys Of Summerâ. And they had baseball bats.
‘Imploding The Mirage’ (2020)
With the entire concept of The Killers getting hazy at the edges â wherefore art thou, Dave? â ‘Imploding The Mirage’ saw the band remould themselves as a an open-door alt-pop collective, with the likes of Weyes Blood, The War On Drugs, Lucius and producers Ariel Rechtshaid, Shawn Everett and Foxygenâs Jonathan Rado helping to usher them into more contemporary lanes.
As a result, Talking Heads funk (âFire In Boneâ), futuristic synth-rock ambience (âRunning Towards A Placeâ) and synthetic crescendos designed to punch holes in the Earthâs crust (âCautionâ, âMy Godâ) cohered with the bandâs most consistent and uplifting set of tunes since âSamâs Townâ to make a sister-piece to âWonderful Wonderfulâ that powered on to glory.
âSam’s Townâ (2006)
It can only have been the disappointment that theyâd realised they were actually â gah â American that stopped âSamâs Townâ from garnering the sort of plaudits it properly deserved. After dressing themselves up as British indie-poppers for 2004 debut ‘Hot Fuss’, Brandon and co. here injected huge doses of intravenous canyon, shrouding themselves in proud Springsteenisms. Crucially, they did it with power and panache.
Beyond the obvious genius of âWhen You Were Youngâ, âRead My Mindâ, âBonesâ and the deliciously dark âUncle Johnnyâ, itâs a travesty that âMy Listâ and âWhy Do I Keep Counting?â donât occupy the same chant-along status as âAll These Things That Iâve Doneâ, since theyâre every bit as grand and overpowering, like a hypodermic of pure melody punched directly into your chest cavity.
âHot Fussâ (2004)
You can wrangle over the production leanings, but The Killersâ debut stands as their towering achievement because a lack of studio spangles revealed a band brimming with ambition, ballsiness and the sort of raw, ravenous hooks that stomped up and demanded headline billing. Sure, it was front-loaded: how, by Godâs knackers, they ever thought they could follow an opening five-track run taking in âJenny Was A Friend Of Mineâ, âSomebody Told Meâ, âMr Brightsideâ and culminating in âAll These Things That Iâve Doneâ â a show-stopper so monumental it could kill off The Mousetrap â is a mystery akin to what the fuck Boris Johnson’s been doing amid the coronavirus crisis.
But even the rough-edged likes of âAndy, Youâre A Starâ, âBelieve Me Natalieâ and the quasi-comic âGlamorous Indie RockânâRollâ (a sneering attack on unambitious guitar music that sounded, without a sniff of irony, like Marion) stood up well to the challenge, rounding off a modern classic that, today, gleams all the brighter for its lack of polish.
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