Consisting of frontman Brandon Flowers, guitarist Dave Keuning, bassist Mark Stoermer and drummer Ronnie Vannucci Jr., the Las Vegas-based band, The Killers, are perhaps one of the greatest rock bands of this century, but sadly, perhaps one of the most underrated. We’ve all heard some of their flashy, high-powered songs at some point–especially the inescapable “Mr. Brightside,” which is basically the indie rock equivalent of “All I Want For Christmas.” But despite The Killers’ global fame and sold-out concerts, many of their other songs and albums tend to get overlooked by the general public. Which is truly a shame, as they are missing out on some absolute BANGERS. As an avid listener of The Killers, a mega-fan, if you will, I have listened to all of their albums multiple times and am familiar with every song on their discography. So, without further ado, here are my thoughts on every Killers album.

Hot Fuss

When The Killers first arrived onto the rock scene, they did so with a bang. It’s no exaggeration to say that Hot Fuss is one of the greatest debut albums of any band, ever. Even the album art–a mysterious image of four neon-lit skyscrapers against a moody blue background–has achieved iconic status. And what’s not to love about this album?

It opens with the sound of helicopter blades, a sound that instantly grabs attention. This is the start of “Jenny Was A Friend of Mine,” a perfect opening set, its glamorous new wave synths and morbid lyrics setting the frenetic and almost decadent tone of the songs to follow. Then there’s a guitar riff that we all recognize; the first notes of “Mr. Brightside,” a song that never loses its adrenaline rush, no matter how many times you hear it. The irresistibly ear-wormy guitar, the glowing new wave synth melodies, plus the desperation in Flowers’ voice, never, never get old and are what transform this simple lament about a cheating partner into a global smash hit. The tempo slows down with “Smile Like You Mean It,” with a hauntingly nostalgic synth melody, and then speeds up with the dizziness of “Somebody Told Me,” which just drips with Vegas-style glamour and speed. “All These Things That I’ve Done” could have been created in a lab to be a stadium anthem, with its stamping beat and iconic chanted refrain, “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” 

It’s a non-stop run of the five songs that still define the band’s image to this day. But the second half of the album, while much lesser-known, is still worthy of its iconic legacy. The soft, yet persistent “Andy, You’re A Star” serves as the bridge between the two halves, its sparse guitar and garbled vocals suddenly expanding at the song’s end (though, in my opinion, it’s the weakest link in the album). “On Top” is like a moodier, minor key “Mr. Brightside,” yet with all the same energy and charisma. It’s followed by the relentless optimism of “Change Your Mind,” a catchy, danceable song that’s perhaps the most underrated on the album. “Believe Me Natalie” is a song with fascinating contradictions (a theme I’ve noticed through Hot Fuss); a cheerful melody concealing a desperate lament. “Midnight Show” is a furious, driving song describing the events leading up to “Jenny Was A Friend of Mine,” yet overlaid with the synth melodies that are fast becoming The Killers’ trademark. And lastly, after all of that energy, the album closes with “Everything Will Be Alright.” A minimalist, calming drum and synth beat, combined with Flowers’ voice intoning–what else?–“everything will be alright,” it’s a perfect, reassuring song on which to end this album.

Sam’s Town

After the massive success of “Hot Fuss,” Brandon Flowers decided to take a turn. Inspired by a newfound hyperfixation for Bruce Springsteen, Flowers decided to adorn the band’s second album with heartland rock influences–a move which resulted in the album being unfairly lambasted by critics who weren’t used to the departure from the more British-style “Hot Fuss.” 

The album is bookended by “Enterlude” and “Exitlude,” a folksy guitar welcome and goodbye that you might know from Twitch streamers using it. Yet before “Enterlude” we have the title track, “Sam’s Town,” its rousing opening chords leading into nostalgic Springsteen-style lyrics, but with a unique Vegas twist–“Sam’s Town” is a local’s casino in Las Vegas. After “Enterlude” we have “When You Were Young,” hands-down the best song on the album, and in my opinion, a close runner-up to “Mr. Brightside” as the best Killers song ever made. Dave Keuning’s powerful guitar playing, Vannuci’s explosive drumming and Flowers’ fist-in-the-air lyrics make this the perfect hype song for any upcoming event. 

Next there’s “Bling (Confessions Of A King),” a groovier song with an intro that can best be described as a synth explosion. Then there are two back-to-back songs, “For Reasons Unknown” and “Read My Mind,” both showcasing the power and passion of Flowers’ singing, both with irresistibly danceable melodies that make both of them concert favorites. Now that I’m writing this, I’m realizing how similar these songs are to each other–they share similar tempos and have the same nostalgic yet anthemic tone. But each is worth listening to in its own right. Then “Uncle Johnny” is a bit of a weird one. Its lyrics describing a cocaine-addicted relative might seem on the nose, but Keuning’s guitar playing saves the day. “Bones” is always a fun song, with more catchy synth-playing and flirtatious lyrics such as “Don’t you want to feel my bones on your bones?” Then there’s “My List,” a song that starts out slow and quiet, but finishes with heart-aching piano playing and Flowers’ lyrics conveying a sense of loss. “This River Is Wild” is one of Flowers’ first forays into his Mormon childhood, portraying a simple yet melancholic portrait of his youth in a small Utah town–again, clearly Springsteen-esque, but with the Killer’s musical fingerprints all over it. And before “Exitlude,” we have “Why Do I Keep Counting.” Based on Flowers’ fear of being on airplanes, it’s deeply heartfelt and wistful, a perfect transition to the farewell of “Exitlude.” 

For all of the outrage over Sam’s Town and its new style, not much has actually changed. Strip away the exterior bells and whistles and Sam’s Town, at its core, has all of the bombasticness and raw energy of Hot Fuss–and most importantly, the same ability to electrify listeners.  

Sawdust

Ok, this isn’t one of the “core” albums, it’s a B-sides compilation released after “Sam’s Town.” As such, it’s a musical grab bag that varies widely in genre and quality. The title track, “Tranquilize,” is dark and moody, with the vocal talents of Lou Reed, of all people, adding a distinctive touch. It’s followed by a toe-tapping cover of Joy Division’s “Shadowplay,” followed by “All The Pretty Faces,” which despite a heavy and desperate tone, sounds strangely dull. The next track, “Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf,” sounds uninteresting as well, if slightly peppy. “Sweet Talk” sounds more energetic, but still lacks that spark found in the last few albums. Things improve with “Under the Gun.” It’s brief but energetic, sounding like a prototype “Mr. Brightside.” The next track, “Where the White Boys Dance” just can’t seem to make its melody stick, but as if in contrast, “Show You How” is a great showpiece for Keuning’s guitar skills.

At this point you’re starting to notice a pattern–for every good song there’s a boring one. “Glamorous Indie Rock And Roll” (which was included in some editions of “Hot Fuss”), “The Ballad of Michael Valentine” and “Daddy’s Eyes” are great, while “Move Away” and “Who let You Go” just feel kind of dull. The album wraps up with a few so-so covers–Mel Tillis’ “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town,” and Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet”–and some remixes of earlier hits, a disappointing finish. Really, there’s only a few songs worth listening to on this album, and it’s just not interesting enough to appeal to anyone outside of massive Killers fans.

Day and Age

The Killers’ most playful and joyful album, “Day and Age” represents yet another genre switch. Yet, in spite of its pink and purple bubbliness, it’s also increasingly introspective and the start of Flowers’ true lyrical awakening. We start with saxophones blaring as “Losing Touch” introduces a perky soundscape, but with powerful guitar chords to remind you that yes, this is unmistakably The Killers. Next comes “Human,” one of the very few Killers songs that I think is actually overrated, for a change. Gasp! It’s notorious for its somewhat pretentious lyricism–to this day, no one can really get what “Are we human, or are we dancer?” actually means. Still, there’s no denying that its catchy electronic background loop and emotional lyrics give it lasting appeal. It’s followed by “Spaceman,” which always makes me feel like I’m four years old. Like the giant circular structure in its surreal music video, it feels like it’s spinning around and around, giddy, whimsical and delirious. And “Joy Ride” continues that exuberant energy, with all the vibes of a wild casino night. 

Things slow down in the second half, though, starting with “A Dustland Fairytale,” the clearest sign that Flowers still has his “Sam’s Town” era in the back of his mind. Its quiet piano opening slowly opens into a grand rock finish as Brandon recounts the story of his parents, creating a deeply personal and powerful–if still Springsteen-derivative–track. Then things get strange with “I Can’t Stay,” a bizarre electro-calypso foray that, sadly, lacks the aura of everything that came before it. This is the low point of the album, but things get better with “Neon Tiger,” an inspiring stadium anthem about freedom with lyrics describing the captive tigers in the band’s home of Vegas. “The World We Live In” is a lively new wave-flavored tune, with a head-nodding lightness and a touch of wistfulness. And lastly, the emotional peak of the album is “Goodnight, Travel Well,” a gut-punching, seven minute-long portrait of death and mortality, tempered somewhat by the iconic synths. In my opinion, there’s nothing else in The Killers’ discography that comes anywhere close to the sheer painful emotion of this song.

You would also do well to listen to a version of “Day and Age” with the two bonus tracks “Tidal Wave” and “Forget About What I Said.” “Tidal Wave” is a work of melancholy idealism, its swelling melodies sweeping listeners off their feet. “Forget About What I Said,” meanwhile, is more quicker and hard-edged, with “Hot Fuss”-style electricity. 

Battle Born

This is probably the Killers’ hidden gem. “Battle Born” stylistically takes a lot from “Sam’s Town,” but whereas “Sam’s Town” was more rustic and apprehensive, “Battle Born” sounds punchy and confident–perhaps a little overly so, which is why some reviewers have called it “bloated.” But that is a total misnomer. Yes, “Battle Born” wasn’t my favorite of the bunch when I first heard it, but it is the kind of album that slowly grows on you, until you can appreciate it.

The electronic bleeps and bloops from “Day and Age” suddenly explode outwards into triumph and rousing guitar chords in the albums first track, “Flesh and Bone.” And that’s only the start. The blasting heartland melodies of “Runaways” are bursting at the seams with the contributions of all four bandmates, but Flowers’ lyrics deserve special mention, painting a stark, yet still optimistic, portrait about the fall of an American marriage. “The Way It Was” is another song of heartbreak, but somewhat more melancholy, and as its lyrics describe, it’s perfect for a long drive into the Vegas night. “Here With Me” is a slow dance, one which can feel a little overblown, yes, but also one that can sweep you away with its sheer volume and grandeur. It also has a delightful creepy music video directed by Tim Burton. “A Matter Of Time” is as hurried as its name implies, with a keyboard hook that imparts a sense of desperate, fleeting urgency to life. 

Midway through the album, “Deadlines and Commitments” can seem a bit dull, with its extremely romanticized depiction of domestic love. But it’s soon overshadowed by the album’s commercial highlight, “Miss Atomic Bomb.” The perfect synthesis of the Killers’ new wave and heartland rock genes, “Miss Atomic Bomb” is deeply moving yet avoids kitschy sentimentalism, painting a portrait of bygone ages in America and in the listener’s own lives. “The Rising Tide” is another synth-heavy adrenaline rush, while “Heart Of A Girl” is a softer, beautiful track that calls to mind the wide expanses of the West. “From Here On Out” is a bit rushed, but leads into two amazing tracks as the album ends. 

“Be Still” is perhaps the only reason why my mental health survived COVID-19–it’s a powerful, yet understated anthem with lyrics that I’ve always taken personally (“And if they drag you through the mud/It doesn’t change what’s in your blood”). “Battle Born,” however, is something completely different. It’s Springsteen’s “Born In The USA” if he wasn’t messing around. A chest-thumping, fist-raising, celebration of the red, white and blue that can make even the most hardened cynics believe in the American Dream–if only for five minutes and thirteen seconds. The fact that it’s rarely mentioned nowadays is saddening. More people deserve to experience this track, and the album for which it stands.

Wonderful Wonderful

Unfortunately, we now come to this album, which not even I, as a Killers mega-fan, can defend. To quote the Youtuber MoistCr1TiKaL, “the hits hit, but the misses shit.” While you will still find a couple of trademark Killers bangers on this album, they just aren’t enough to carry the rest of the songs, far too many of which sound completely uninspired. The lyrics may be personal to Brandon Flowers – many describing his marital relationship and childhood – but not even these are enough to save the album.

We open with the title track, “Wonderful Wonderful,” a powerful work with growling synths underscoring Flowers’ voice as he sings about his determination to protect his wife, which is a good start, at least. “The Man” is a glamorous nu-disco bopper, which I always associate with Joe Biden, because supposedly this song was playing in his house at the moment when he was announced winner in 2020, and I just love to imagine Biden breaking it down to the song’s funky beats. But I digress. “Rut” (a moving synth piece about mental struggles) and “Life to Come” (the first of many pieces to allude to Flowers’ Mormon beliefs, as he started to get back into religion around this time) are pretty solid, but don’t truly stand out in the way that other filler songs from their previous albums did. Then we hit “Run For Cover,” which is the album’s high point. It has all of the energy and populist appeal of a “Hot Fuss” song and is a rightful concert favorite, but it also marks the beginning of the album’s downward slide as we listen on. 

“Tyson vs Douglas” has a nice main melody but its attempt to compare Flowers’ self-doubts to the famous Vegas boxing match falls flat. “Some Kind Of Love” is gentle and flowing, but it just doesn’t have hit material written all over it. Then we follow with the worst run of songs on any Killers album. No exaggeration. The main hook of “Out Of My Mind” is simply put, annoying, and so are the lyrics, which only exist for Flowers to boast about how he’s met Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen. Yeah, we get it. You’re part of the establishment now. Ok. “The Calling” is an attempt to try and make Christianity seem badass, but it fails miserably. Given some more time, Flowers might have cooked. Instead, we got cursed lyrics such as “I walked into town with a message for my old man/I got the last two chapters of Matthew in my hand.” And lastly, the album ends not with a bang, but with “Have All The Songs Been Written,” which just feels too worn-out and sad, especially with so many other low-energy songs on the album. The only silver lining of this song is that they got Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits to do the guitar, but having not been familiar with Knopfler’s work when I first listened to this album, the effect was entirely lost on me. 

Imploding The Mirage

Released in 2020, when the whole world was reeling from the virus which must not be named, “Imploding The Mirage” was a return to form for the band. While Keuning had to briefly retire from the band due to touring exhaustion, you can clearly tell that everyone else gave it their all. The glossy, cheerful, and relentlessly explosive vibe of this album was exactly what people needed during that time, and also exactly what The Killers needed as well.

In true Killers form, the opening track, “My Own Soul’s Warning,” starts out slowly, with just Flowers’ isolated vocals, then hits listeners with the force of a pickup truck speeding into the desert. If its music video on Youtube can get even ten percent of the views of “Mr. Brightside,” then I can die happy, because that’s the attention that it deserves. Yes, it is that important to me. And that’s only the opening track! “Blowback” is a gentle, breezy, country-inspired character piece. “Dying Breed” is intoxicating, with thunderous drumrolls from Vannucci leading into a spirited chorus that feels like the auditory equivalent of a Saturn V launch, while “Caution” is a high-flying, free-spirited piece with a soaring guitar solo towards the end. “Lightning Fields” takes a synth-wave backdrop and transforms it into a lively, touching reflection of eternal love. “Fire in Bone,” on the other hand, reaches levels of funkiness last seen in “The Man.” But there’s another connection to “Wonderful Wonderful”–it succeeds in what “The Calling” tried to do, and uses Christian imagery (specifically the prodigal son parable) to create something that absolutely slaps.

Then “Running Towards A Place” comes on, blending the stadium rock energy that this album has provided us with so far with an almost mystical energy, eyes oriented towards an amorphous future. “My God” echoes the gospel refrain of “All Those Things That I’ve Done,” but in a more mature way; adding more religious themes to the mix, but never sounding preachy or dogmatic. “When The Dreams Run Dry” and the last track, “Imploding The Mirage” feel lower-energy, as if they’re coasting off the energy of all the bangers before them. But they’re still incredibly catchy in their own right, and “When The Dreams Run Dry” has an inspirational ending. Put together, the ten songs on the album are a stunning run, evoking the glory days of the band’s earlier masterpieces, and sending out the message: When the world needed them most, The Killers returned.

Pressure Machine

The Killers FUCKING COOKED. Following the relentlessly joyful Imploding “The Mirage” with this stark, minimalist concept album based on Brandon Flowers’ Utahn childhood was an enormous stylistic risk, just like the transition from “Hot Fuss” to “Sam’s Town” was years earlier. This time, however, the music world was finally ready to accept it. “Pressure Machine” is considered one of the greatest Killers albums of all time; some critics would even call it THE greatest. While I don’t agree that it’s the best out of all of them–it’s just too far removed from their usual style–it certainly is the most uncompromisingly emotional and true-to-earth.

When the album opens with a track as raw as “West Hills,” you know it’s gonna slap. A searing portrait of a man addicted to “hillbilly heroin pills,” it takes the trademark Killers synths and warps them into something unrecognizable and dark, mirroring the fallen state of the singer’s mind. “Quiet Town” is more conventional, but still deals in heavier subjects such as the deaths of Flowers’ childhood friends from opioid abuse–I’m starting to notice a theme here. A simple acoustic guitar provides the backdrop on “Terrible Thing,” perhaps the album’s most tear-wrenching song, about the struggles of a gay teen in heavily Mormon country. “Cody” is a portrait of another teen, however this song deals with teenage rebellion instead–with one of the most kickass guitar solos of the Killers’ entire career. That’s right, Dave Keuning is FUCKING BACK BABY!!!!!!!!!!!! And then there’s “Sleepwalker,” an inspirational song about the regrowth of nature and the seasons that feels inherently Christian, yet also belonging to anyone that gives a crap about the environment. And equally beautiful and touching is “Runaway Horses,” which features indie-folk star Phoebe Bridgers.

“In The Car Outside” feels like a “Hot Fuss” song at first glance, and lyrically matches too, with its verses about a cheating husband. But it has a unique emotional realism that makes it stand out, a realism that could only be achieved through firsthand experience of Utahn life. A similar blend can be heard in “In Another Life,” creating a stadium-friendly refrain out of folk-rock instrumentation, its lyrics desperate and searching for a way out of suburbia. Then there’s “Desperate Things,” which too harks back to “Hot Fuss.” Like “Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine,” it’s about a murderer, but this time the song sounds darker, bloodier, and even frightening at times. I have listened to this song while walking around campus at night and believe me, it is not a fun experience! Then we reach the title track, “Pressure Machine,” a song perfectly built to stare wistfully out of the window of a car as evening turns to dusk and miles and miles of country fields roll by on the freeway. And we close with “The Getting By,” where acoustic guitar, electric guitar, strings and voices combine to express the wistfulness of millions of rural-bound teens. A perfect ending to this emotional roller coaster. It’s everything that Flowers wanted to do with “Sam’s Town” and more. Now he’s older, more reflective, and more prepared than he’s ever been to tell the story of his home and faith. And it all paid off in the end.

The aborted eight album which was supposed to come out in 2023

Ok, this is really stretching the definition of an “album,” but I really want to talk about this. Back in 2022, there was a lot of hype around another Killers album, referred to as “TK8.” The band released a few singles and promised fans that it would lean more into their synth-pop origins. But due to a number of factors–including an unfortunate incident where the band inadvertently insulted the people of Georgia (the country)–it was never meant to be. The three songs that were finished were instead bundled up into the compilation album “Rebel Diamonds,” which came out in 2023. So, my question is, based on the few songs that were made, how good would this album have been?

“Boy” is a letter from Brandon Flowers to his past self, advising him, “when you’re out on the ledge, please come down, boy.” I always associate this song with freshman year, since it first came out when I moved to Brandeis, and it was the soundtrack to orientation. It’s uplifting and hopeful, but its hook and chorus feel a little too lacking for it to become a “Mr. Brightside” style hit. “Your Side Of Town,” meanwhile, shamelessly apes the melody of New Order’s “True Faith,” without having much to say for itself. Its lyrics are comparatively bland and uninspired, plagued by autotune that masks Flowers’ true vocal talent. Lastly, there’s “Spirit,” a blazing, “Battle Born”-era song that constantly drives forward, but there’s little else to say about it. 

While these songs are fairly good, they feel like they’re waiting for more bangers to come along. They feel like mere filler on an otherwise good album, building hype for even better songs to come. But when the project was shelved, these songs would never come to exist. And what we’ve been given doesn’t seem like they could stand on their own. Still, they’re worth a listen.

So overall, while The Killers may be known for just a couple of mega-hits, those are only the tip of the iceberg. In two decades they’ve released a vast discography, spanning multiple genres, styles and aesthetics, yet always remaining heartfelt and energizing–in a way that most post-80’s music has lost. And, even with a few exceptions, their songs have remained consistently top-notch since they first burst onto the music scene in 2004. So don’t write off The Killers as a one-hit wonder. They’ve got plenty more where “Mr. Brightside” came from.