Audiophiles take note: The Killers have just moved music one step closer to becoming both a free (and, consequently, guilt-free) commodity. Instead of shelling out $20 for their newest batch of synth-rock epics, The Killers prefer that you come to their show. If you made it out to Massey Hall last night, they were giving their new album, Day & Age, away for free as a digital download.
But perhaps the thought of rock stars giving away their blood, sweat and tears to the couple thousand fans who would unquestionably buy it isn’t so scary after all. Touring is the only cash cow that rock 'n’ roll has left (or is it?), and The Killers are willing and ready to squeeze it dry.
With that in mind, the exclusive pre-album club tour has become de rigueur for any arena-ready band, and it’s a wise move — drumming up advance buzz might be the best way to sell a few records, if you even care to do so. This type of forward-thinking might be a surprise given that The Killers carry a reputation for staunchly adhering to the two worst C-words in rock: conventionality and commerciality. It’s no surprise that most attempts to properly critique The Killers come with a standard punch line about Brandon Flowers’ facial hair, and a few cracks about the sheer ridiculousness of purposely crafting anthems that are best heard when sung in unison by groups of no less than 5,000 people. But then comes the inevitable grudging admission that The Killers’ choruses are supremely satisfying, even to the most jaded of pricks. This contradiction can make for quite a confusing concert review.
It’s time the music press revealed the true cause of all their hatred. It’s not the music — the music is fine, in fact it’s pretty exhilarating. It’s the fact that The Killers are guilty of the worst sin of all: trying too hard. Packaging earnestness for mass consumption isn’t going to win any points with we brave men and women who rate art out of five, but it’s enough to earn you millions of loyal followers.
Brandon Flowers may not look a thing like Jesus, but he certainly acts enough like him. Give Flowers credit though, for avoiding the kind of spineless pandering (“This one is better, I swear!”) that makes Chris Martin sound like such a wuss every time he puts a new record out.
The Killers may pander, but at least they go about it with massive egos in tow. Flowers honestly believes that his is without question the Greatest Band on Earth, and he makes every choice carefully, to ensure that his band enjoys the long and prolific career that they’re destined for.
In fact, this mentality constitutes their second felony offence against critics as a whole: they’re a pop band who take themselves too seriously. It would be much easier to forgive The Killers for their nonsensical lyrics and laughable fashion choices if they were able to laugh along with us. But they don’t, so the haters keep on hating.
For better or for worse, all of these traits were on full display last night at Massey Hall, along with Flowers’ blazer, complete with monstrous feather epaulets that, thankfully, he ditched two songs in. With a white-tiger backdrop and onstage palm trees, the blazer seemed to match the set’s jungle motif. Let’s just be thankful that Flowers didn’t emerge in safari gear and a pith helmet.
They began with new single “Human,” a glorious nod to European electro-pop that stood in stark contrast to the opening snoozefest of a set from Mod Club resident DJ Bobbi Guy. It seems rather obvious that a DJ set at a seated venue would play out like a disaster. After Guy arrived onstage, flicked a switch and stood sipping from his red plastic cup, the room had all the atmosphere of an oppressively loud doctor’s office waiting room, with a spin of Tony Christie’s “Avenues and Alleyways” being the only real highlight.
The true draw of the evening was, of course, The Killers’ new and unheard material, which they launched into with “Losing Touch,” a mid-tempo groove highlighted by a sax lead and a drawn-out ending that reaches near-jam out proportions. By Killers standards, it’s an eternity for Flowers to spend more than 10 seconds away from the mic, and it’s jarring to hear them open up their sound so much. Baby steps, boys, baby steps.
No.-1-single-in-waiting “Spaceman” borrows the bopping hook from Against Me!’s “Thrash Unreal,” and turns it into a swirling hurricane of a chorus that’s easily the fastest song The Killers have ever done.
With the number of hits in the band’s canon, it’s easy to forget they’ve been around for less than five years. The scaling back of both “Smile Like You Mean It” and “Sam’s Town” into soft plodding ballads was a welcome respite from the anthem parade, which was highlighted by Flowers’ beaming grin during “Read My Mind.”
But these were a mere setup for “Mr. Brightside,” the kind of pantheon arena track that’s now reached an almost embarrassing level of grandiosity. The song epitomizes the divisive quality that makes The Killers so well-loved and well-hated at once.
The closing combination of “All These Things That I’ve Done” and “When You Were Young” made for both a predictable and satisfying conclusion. It’s impossible to imagine The Killers ever leaving their fans wanting more.
The Killers are a band who won’t ever make a Kid A, and it’s hard to decide whether we should hold that against them or get over it and just sing along. But when it comes right down to it, they’re worth every dollar that a fan pays to see them. If all you’re looking for is 90 minutes of validation in the form of anthems that make both your fist pump and your heart swell, you’ve come to the right place.
It’s a simple wish, but coupled with a free album, it sounds like a pretty good deal.