For fans of the Killers that may be reading this with dismay and harboring some skepticism about my musical taste: know that I like "Mr. Brightside," "Smile Like You Mean It," "Somebody Told Me," et al. as much as the next person. I wish there was a song that approached any of the singles from "Hot Fuss" in terms of style, content or even just in likeability. The closest that "Sam's Town" gets to that level is in that already-released single, "When You Were Young." With so many bands vying for airspace, the Killers are not established or unique enough to rest on the laurels of one album and coast with the next. "Sam's Town" will not satisfy listeners or remain relevant for long, and it does not deserve to.
So where did the Killers go wrong? It seems like the band got so caught up in making a "serious" album that they forgot that music should first and foremost be enjoyable, certainly when coming from a pop band. "Sam's Town" is far too cerebral, even pretentious, from its black-and-white album cover to the last track, "Exitlude," in which Flowers pleads to the listener, "We hope you enjoyed your stay."
Too many songs open with clichd gestures like drum rolls (literally!), string/synth arrangements, and, in one exceptional misfire, some choir-like refrain. And a lot of the orchestration is from the Meatloaf "I Would Do Anything For Love" school of composition -- so overly dramatic that it's ridiculous at first, unbearable later. The chorus of "My List" brought that '80s hit "We Are the World" to mind, which for all its good intentions was no musical benchmark, even in that decade. The sophomore album is not the time to make some sweeping musical epic, especially when the debut was as flirty and frivolous as "Hot Fuss."
By no means, though, does an over-thought album imply intelligent lyrics. The rhyming schemes are inane, with "Uncle Johnny" as the worst offender. This clunky rock dirge strings 'refrain,' 'cocaine,' 'brain' and 'pain' together, stretching the syllables out over a painfully slow, crying riff. The images that Flowers & Co. conjure up aren't much better. "Bones," for example, starts off promising with an opening reminiscent of the Cure and lyrics with an attitude ... at least until Flowers starts "crying in the dirt." The nadir is the chorus, which asks "Don't you want to feel my bones on your bones?" Gross. While "Hot Fuss" was no great feat of pop lyricism, the stories that its tracks told were at least engaging and fun. "Somebody Told Me" was catchy and as witty as any other radio hit, "Mr. Brightside" had a wonderfully louche narrative. I want to call the Killers more confessional in this album, except that the emotions and stories seem so insincere that they become caricatures of human beings and of musicians, filling affected musical gestures with empty lyrics.
The Killers, it seems, became more entrenched in their new wave influences even as their wider ambitions for the album expanded. Some of these faults are inherited from the album's producers, Flood and Alan Moulder. Their resumes are impressive and, unfortunately, really obvious just by listening to "Sam's Town." Depeche Mode, U2, Smashing Pumpkins -- I can hear them all. In an effort to sound mature, the Killers grabbed from everyone and benefited from no one. They took references and failed to make the notes their own. A lot of songs had me thinking, "Springsteen wannabe" (which you should always get if you ever reference Main Street, America) "U2-lite," and "Sting solo career, ew."
Frankly, the album just doesn't rock as hard as "Hot Fuss." It is far too synth-driven, even for the Killers. A lot of the sounds were more grating than interesting. Many songs make the mistake of slowing down for what tries to be emotional gravity; instead, they are crushed under their own weight, plodding on for a few minutes and ultimately fizzling out. Flowers wears eyeliner and velvet; ergo, he should never croon or approach anything like Bono-esque vocal stylings. His voice is one that is made for rock star swagger, and it is sorely misused here.
The weakest songs on "Hot Fuss" were of the slow variety, and it is disappointing to see that the band didn't learn from their mistakes. Other songs are melodically all over the place, reaching for a Queen-like operatic scope, but instead becoming unfocused and ultimately unenjoyable. Songs like "Bling" and the eponymous opening track begin promisingly and then wander off musically, further undermined by weak lyrics. It is the only pattern I could detect in this immature and misguided album.
