The Killers

Sad news for the Americans; the label of "Biggest Band In The World" has always been designated to the foreigners (the people, not the band). Whether it's been The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, U2 and now The Killers came in. Since 2003's debut Hot Fuss, the band has been touted as the U.S. representatives at the Rock Olympics. And while "Mr. Brightside" and "Somebody Told Me" made them a household name and arena headliners, 2006's Sam's Town was also their way of escaping the new wave hipsterness and guilty pleasure identity. This sophomore slump was their misguided interpretation of blue-collar rock, an attempt to become truly epic and grab the torch from England. But it failed commercially and critically.

Day And Age is the album that finds The Killers growing into themselves. It's the perfect amalgamation of the cool and the uncool, which is why it also sounds like the band actually enjoyed recording it. While singer Brandon Flowers is certainly no poet (although he has consistently defended lines like "are we human or are we dancer?" in the press), he can write a cheese-tastic anthem. Songs like "A Dustland Fairytale" and "Joy Ride" commendably and un-self-consciously incorporate the unusual and forgotten influences of the ‘80’s by embracing sax solos of Hall & Oates or the synth bombast of the Alarm. This aesthetic humility assuredly comes from the saccharine direction of Parisian electropop producer Stuart Price who has channeled the Las Vegas flash and ridiculousness to positive effect. Shimmering throwbacks like "Neon Tiger" and "I Can't Stay" won't make The Killers "The Biggest Band" they so desperately want to be, but at least they're finally fun to listen to.

–Arye Dworken
02.22.09

On Day & Age, the Killers shrink the canvas and brighten their palette, opting for big sounds over big themes. Style over substance is the right move for the Killers and Day & Age has style for miles and miles, exceeding even their debut, Hot Fuss, in its stainless steel gleam. Anchored in dance-rock though they may be, the Killers no longer sound like mere disciples of New Order and Duran Duran: emboldened by the left turns of Sam's Town, the Killers will try anything, stitching together sounds with an almost blissfully idiotic abandon. The nice thing is that the Killers are comfortable with their ludicrousness, turning the album into terrifically trashy pop. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, Rovi