The Killers and their new mustaches...

Lots of great new releases today...Beck, Cold War Kids, TV On the Radio, Portland's own Decemberists...but the biggest release of the week in the rock world is, without a doubt, those pop-rocking kids from Sin City Las Vegas...The Killers.
Perhaps you've heard of them?
But this isn't your kid sister's version of the Killers. You know the one from the wall posters that got by on good looks and sass. Nope, this time around the keyboards sound more Elvis Costello than Duran Duran...the eyeliner has been replaced by beards and mustaches...the white belts and oh-so-precious fashions have been replaced with...oh wait...they're still there?
Okay.
But still, suffice to say, this is a more contemplative, more serious Killers. And in my opinion, it's a superior version of the Killers.
There's a yearning in their new music. A need to flee. To escape some overarching sense of isolation. And it makes for an album that's, frankly, if not better than their debut...at least much more interesting.
Named after one of Vegas' decaying, all-but-forgotten casinos, Sam's Town is definitely a departure. Less style, more substance, an urge to put the posturing aside and lose themselvs in some abject soul searching and (and this is important) rocking out. Thank god, too.
But you've read the early reviews. And many have NOT been kind. "Derevative," they bellow. "Cliched," they moan. "Sophomore slump," they say. That's what the hip kids are saying...but LET'S MAKE THIS PERFECTLY CLEAR: Liking the Killers is not about being cool. It's about appreciating a well written pop song. And seriously, if you don't already have "When We Were Young" welded into your brain, well, you're just not paying attention.
To be sure, we've given Mr. Brandon Flowers—he of the Colonel Sanders pinache—a hard time about some of his lyrics. And there are some well tread lyical roads on Sam's Town. Lines about "running with the devil," or "running for the Hills" following "headlights on the highway." We've heard it before. And yes, the Springsteen circa-Thunder Road comparisons are valid (ask my Alternative Mornings compadre, Greg). But where Hot Fuss was 60-minutes of sexual smirking, Sam's Town actually has feelings that extend beyond a warm sensation in the crotch.
I want to believe that with all the attention and pressure thrust upon the band after the hard-earned success of their debut (seriously, that album took awhile to take off. Payola is tough these days), they've grown up and are trying to reach for some musical higher ground.
And I think this album backs that theory up. "When We Were Young" is a great statement of intent for the rest of the disc. Fast moving, epic, intense, a mad rush to some shining light on the horizon. But it's not even the best song here. That would be "Uncle Jonny"...or "This River Is Wild"...or the title track. Honestly, I can't decide.
In the end, if Hot Fuss was a 10-million watt neon sign of glitzy pop goodnesss, Sam's Town is a single bonfire illuminating an empty, pitch black sky. Two differnt states of mind. Two ever-battling ids. Light and dark, gaudy and gritty, smug and reverential.
It's a dichotomy, sure. But honestly...isn't that what being from Las Vegas is all about?