Sam's Town by Laila Quattrini

The dreaded second album. Never easy to write, under any circumstances and especially so, if your first album was a world wide success that, in the space of few months has catapulted you from anonymity to large, screaming, adoring crowds.

The Killers found themselves in exactly this position. How to follow something as majestic, wonderfully perfect and incredibly popular as Hot Fuss?

From the very first song of Sam’s Town (title track of the album) we can clearly see that the same thoughts have been going through the mind of Mr. Brandon Flowers. The record has barely started and he is already singing “And I'm sick of all my judges/So scared of what they'll find”.  And the judges were out there, waiting for him to fail, because there is nothing juicer than pointing a finger and sneering at a former golden boy.

So the question now is: have the judges any reason to sneer and point? Yes and No.

Sam’s Town is not Hot Fuss. There is no Mr. Brightside or All These Things That I’ve Done, but there is something different. The Killers could have easily written Hot Fuss part 2 and sold another gazillion records.  It is undoubted that they are able to write incredibly catchy choruses and that, in their retro, melancholic way, they are still able to infuse a romantic aura to their worshipping of a 80s aesthetic and musical revival, so why not doing exactly that?

And I'm sick of all my judges
they're so scared of letting me shine
But I know that I can make it. (Sam’s Town).

Because Mr. Flowers is convinced that he can do better, that he can shine brighter and, most of the time, he really, really does.

Sam’s Town is complex and dramatic (sometime a bit overdramatic), but is a journey of beautiful, scarred small town tragedies and, above all, a journey across a landscape of success and doubts and self assured cockiness.

Higher and higher,
We're gonna take it,
Down to the wire,
We're gonna make it,
Out of the fire,
Higher and higher. (Bling (Confessions of a King))

There is a strong yearning towards some sort of validation, towards the confirmation that The Killers are where they are because they deserve it and not because of Mr. Flowers’ pretty face and undeniable sex appeal. Undoubtedly, sex sells and Brandon Flowers has had his share of pin-up stardom.  So maybe that’s why, this time around, he and the rest of the band have adopted a look that, to put it mildly, is unflattering. Toying with Cowboy and Indians with a backdrop of black and white desperation (perfectly captured by the stunning photography of Anton Corbin) The Killers have reinvented themselves and are trying to make sure that the world is not only able to hear the changes, but to see them as well.

There are majestic moments in this album, songs like Read My Mind and Bones are two perfect examples of how to write the perfect song. They are both impossibly catchy, beautifully crafted and uplifting, allowing Brandon’s voice to truly shine and remind the listener how a song can truly catch you off guard and make your heart skip a beat. Those are the moments that make you forget how sometime the album is over-produced and how, despite being one of the most distinctive voices of the last twenty years, Brandon’s voice is almost strained in the effort to match the redundant production of Flood and Alan Moulder.

One of the faults of this album is, indeed, the production; used to working with U2, masters of un-subtle, Flood and Moulder have tried to weigh down the unusually breezy and airy sensibility of The Killers’ melodies and lyrics.  Albeit, it could be interpreted as growth, but it is what makes Sam’s Town a half baked cake that could have been delicious. The perfect example is My List, even the lyrics are a reminder of recent Bono’s songs and it’s pedantic, slow and entirely too serious. The sentiment and the arrangements are too convoluted and end up sounding insincere, something that was not previously associated with The Killers.

Growing up under the spotlight is never easy and The Killers had to do exactly that.  Sam’s town is the strained, a bit confused, sexually charged teenager. A bit awkward and a bit gangly, but already showing glimpses of perfect beauty. The Killers are about to bloom into something even more gorgeous, as long as they allow themselves the time to grow up.

I am going to wait.