Much has been said about the Las Vegas four pieces new Americana/Springsteen direction.
Can you imagine them singing lyrics as they do now like “I woke on the roadside, in the land of the freeride” way back when in 2004 and when did My Name Is Earls Earl Hickey take over on drums?
There is a slight Springsteen twang in Brandon Flowers voice now, especially with the yodelling on the terribly titled ‘Bling (Confessions of a king)’, he’s obviously had singing lessons but the transformation from Morrissey influenced fops to New Jersey rock legends in Levis and short sleeved plaid shirts has not happened, that moustache though is laughable, we all went through that stage when we reached puberty and tried to grow one though didn’t we….DIDN’T WE??

Lyrically, long gone are the girlfriends who look like boyfriends and now songs of brothers born on the fourth of July and riding down the freeway are the order of the day. It’s this major shift which lets this album down and show them up to be frauds and despite their music still mainly influenced by an 80s Britain, the American dream clichéd lyrics are at a direct opposite of the tunes.
 
Why Do I keep counting is a weird hybrid of their own ‘The things that I’ve done’ and Queens ‘Radio ga-ga’ and it lives up to its warning of being horrible. The opening title track is a gargantuan anthem the size of the new Arsenal football stadium, but as it goes on, the un-needed and unwarranted bombast grates.

‘For reasons unknown’ highlights the failings of this album, the big ideas end up sounding forced, the sentiments fake and the lyrics rubbish,  ” I took a back-road in my car down to the ocean”, even Brian Wilson stopped writing that shit and that was in 1965.

The yearning of ‘Read my mind’  is better and worthy of a place on ‘Hot Fuss’ but they spoil it with ‘Uncle Johhny’ about Brandon Flowers’ cocaine loving uncle which is as meandering and dirge-like
The finest track is the ‘hidden’ track ‘Where the white boys dance’ which shows that there may be future in The Killers yet as this beat laden revisits David Bowie in his early 80s pomp.

They probably think It’s a soundtrack to road tripping on the freeway, if it is, they’re in a clapped out Robin Reliant caining it at 30mph, not a Cadillac (or enter own car cliché here)
Will the real Killers please stand up??? 

 4/10

Chris Todd