“Radio-friendly style over substance.” from upon the June 7, 2004 release of the debut album by a Las Vegas quartet being heavily hyped by the U.K.
music press, back when being heavily hyped by the U.K. music press really meant something.
“ floats boatloads of blasé lyrics about the pressures of being fabulous and the politics of fucking over an easily sippable blend of ’80s and ’90s British pop influences rarely pausing to test the end product,” opined the site on the The Killers’ first album. “Top-shelf mixing and attention to melody helps out the record’s appeal as lifestyle music for sheltered bloggers and female professionals who still wear cool hairstyles.” If you’re wondering if there’s even faint backhanded praise lurking in that comment, consider the thoroughly mediocre score of 5.
2. Pitchfork’s skepticism echoed the naysaying from the hippest corners of the music media, who dismissed The Killers as carpetbaggers riding the NYC-centric “rock is back!” scene associated with bands like The Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And there was some truth to that — The Killers would not have had a lane if not for those chic acts from Manhattan.
The only problem (for those who viewed The Killers as a problem) was songs. The Killers had them. Lots of them.
More than the competition. And they were designed to take over the world. Twenty years later it can be said that has — at the very least — reached an audience beyond sheltered bloggers and fema.
