HelloAngel
ONE love, blood, life
[SIMG]http://forum.interference.com/gallery/data//585/11265killers_concert_011-sml.jpg[/SIMG]
By Andy Smith
2006.12
With two chart-crushing albums brewed from equal parts of peppy post-New Wave and American-made mix tapes of fist-waving road music, The Killers stand in their best Saturday night threads at a pivotal career-shaping crossroads.
When the skinny, sexy lead singer isn't mouthing off to the media and making enemies of his peers, Brandon Flowers actually lives up to his boastful reputation, owning each stage he steps onto with incredibly intoxicating performances, securing his own righteous place in the modern rock pantheon.
(Having seen both The Smiths and The Cure in 1985, I can attest to Flowers' faithful 21st century interpretation of the inspiration provided for him by seminal 80s bands.)
In apparent harmony with all their professional ambition and preening artifice, the Killers' command of the rock craft is writ large with electric hope and extravagant hype. Behind all this, there's the songs themselves—epic and tenacious, built for rooms even bigger than Flowers's braggadocio.
Currently finishing the first leg of the Sam's Town world tour, selling out 3000-seat halls and theaters in Europe and America, the band will only take a short December break before spending much of 2007 on the road. Although the dates and details are yet to be announced, when they return to the States sometime in the spring or summer, the Killers will likely strive to fill larger venues with their fierce concerts and consecrated following. With more fame awaiting this ensemble, devout fans catching them on their last US dates in late 2006 ride the feeling that they're bearing witness to something special, a bright flash of ascendant beauty shooting for the stars of shameless celebrity. The Killers really are, in this writer’s opinion, all that.
With its large logo paying tribute to Ben Franklin and its hippy-era predecessor venue of the same name, the Electric Factory is a converted warehouse in the heart of Philadelphia. The fans that arrived early enough on a mild and breezy afternoon to queue up for this General Admission gig were treated to an hour-long sound check-cum-rehearsal that they listened to in line, with the sound ricocheting off the tall buildings for an unusual kind of urban reverb. With lots of little breaks, Flowers babble, and musical messing around, the group casually tweaked loose and playful versions of “Bling,” “When You Were Young,” “Read My Mind,” “Bones,” “Somebody Told Me,” “Mr. Brightside,” and “Sam's Town.” (The fans who'd driven in from Maryland in elf and Santa hats respectively later assured me that they also did a Dire Straits cover.)
As the temperature dropped, the line grew, and the eclectic collection of fans passed the time sharing their Killers' stories. While some teenagers were dropped off by their parents, others attended with their parents, while still others were seasoned alt-rock fans old enough to be older brothers and sisters of said parents. All of the fans shared the wait with merry anticipation. One scalper—who couldn't find any tickets to this sold-out and rescheduled show to resell—set up a makeshift concession stand instead, offering snacks to the hungry and patient. Ultimately, the infinite afternoon passed into evening. The doors opened, and the devoted filled the room to capacity, with incredible manners for a General Admission gig. After an energetic and cacophonous opening set by a young Philly band called The Cobbs (who allegedly joined the bill at the last minute), the faithful had only 50 minutes to take bathroom breaks and buy drinks, with many bypassing both to keep the best standing spots close to the front.
By 9:25 pm, the lights dimmed, and the Killers took the stage for what promised to be a killer show. After months of anticipation and an October cancellation, this faction of the faithful could finally taste the traveling pop carnival built from a neon “Welcome” sign attached to a piano that doubled as an altar, decorated with skeletons and fresh flowers, as if paying tribute to the Day of the Dead or perhaps the ghost of painter Frida Kahlo, especially if she were reincarnated as an indie rock goddess from the open spaces of a Mesoamerican mythology merged with the Killers' “American masquerade.” From the elaborately decorated synth stand to the multicolored flags to the bright white lights to the extraordinary curtain backdrop, the Sam's Town stage set provides a festive visual echo of the album's audacious audio collage where every syllable Flowers sings in addictive anthemic allegory is draped in Dave Keuning's dramatic guitar and brought back to earth by Ronnie Vannucci's drums and Mark Stoermer's bass.
(Photo courtesy of Nancy Chacon)
For the first moment of the 75-minute set, the Killers took us out of time into a timeless musical blissfest where the band demonstrated that a relentless work ethic can result in a tight musical interplay and sweet tempered camaraderie. The 16 songs followed one of a handful of tried and true choreographies chosen for this leg of the tour, alternating between both hit records and including a favorite B-side called “Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll.” They opened with the trilogy of “Sam's Town,” “Enterlude,” and hit single “When You Were Young” before dipping into the first record with the always energetic “Somebody Told Me.” This tested sequence created an irrepressible, upbeat, and intense mood for the inspired masses. After so much wanting and waiting, we were rapt for the ride shared by the entire hall with heads bobbing, hands waving, and hundreds shouting each word or chanting, “Brandon! Brandon! Brandon!” between cuts. One fan who still prefers “Hot Fuss” to “Sam's Town” noted that he didn't realize how many songs on the new record he loved so much until he found himself singing along.
The middle of the set showcased “Smile Like You Mean It” and “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” from “Hot Fuss” along with new single “Bones,” “Bling,” “Read My Mind,” and “Uncle Jonny” from “Sam's Town.” Since one young fan insisted she'd die if she didn't hear “Mr. Brightside,” I'm sure she and so many others were thrilled when that track concluded the main set. The only disappointing aspect of the encore, of course, comes with the realization that the show is almost over. “My List” only prepared the way for a ferocious “For Reasons Unknown” with Flowers on guitar. When we hear the profoundly perfect opening line of “All These Things That I've Done,” we can't help but wish there was room for one more song, for one more show. At the grand climax, Flowers climbed above us all like a postmodern Moses on his personal mountaintop. He stopped singing and pointed the mic stand at us. At his suggestion, we were happy to holler in our hoarse voices “I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier” as the houselights went bright.
Flowers is such a flamboyant and engaged frontman that it should be hard to take one's eyes off him to study the impressive antics of the other band members. But the Killers are a real four-piece in the classic sense, where each player brings his own personality and talent to the fore. Vannucci is a crazed rhythm monster, making mad love to his drum kit. Keuning and Stoermer are tight and on top of their game as they also obviously enjoy themselves and all the attention of any fans who let their eyes wander from the bouncing Flowers, even for a minute.
But when we follow the singer, he never stops holding us with his committed focus, his eye contact, his stadium-sized rock star gestures. What can compare to Flowers doing his boundless bopping? Who doesn't love him standing on the monitors, standing on the piano, singing and shouting his soul silly and our killer fix?
After the excellent live version of “Exitlude,” the crowd at the front enjoyed a shower of crumpled set lists, fresh flowers, and flying drumsticks. Somehow the crowded Philadelphia streets seemed warmer and sweeter than they did only a few hours ago, with hundreds humming Killers' songs on the way to their cars and into their dreams. Leaving was like living in the coda of one excellent song they didn't play, “The River is Wild”:
“Now the cars are everywhere
Lacing dust at the fairgrounds
I don’t think I ever seen so many headlights
But there’s something pulling me
The circus and their crew
Well they’re just passing through
Making sure that merry still goes round”
By Andy Smith
2006.12
With two chart-crushing albums brewed from equal parts of peppy post-New Wave and American-made mix tapes of fist-waving road music, The Killers stand in their best Saturday night threads at a pivotal career-shaping crossroads.
When the skinny, sexy lead singer isn't mouthing off to the media and making enemies of his peers, Brandon Flowers actually lives up to his boastful reputation, owning each stage he steps onto with incredibly intoxicating performances, securing his own righteous place in the modern rock pantheon.
(Having seen both The Smiths and The Cure in 1985, I can attest to Flowers' faithful 21st century interpretation of the inspiration provided for him by seminal 80s bands.)
In apparent harmony with all their professional ambition and preening artifice, the Killers' command of the rock craft is writ large with electric hope and extravagant hype. Behind all this, there's the songs themselves—epic and tenacious, built for rooms even bigger than Flowers's braggadocio.
Currently finishing the first leg of the Sam's Town world tour, selling out 3000-seat halls and theaters in Europe and America, the band will only take a short December break before spending much of 2007 on the road. Although the dates and details are yet to be announced, when they return to the States sometime in the spring or summer, the Killers will likely strive to fill larger venues with their fierce concerts and consecrated following. With more fame awaiting this ensemble, devout fans catching them on their last US dates in late 2006 ride the feeling that they're bearing witness to something special, a bright flash of ascendant beauty shooting for the stars of shameless celebrity. The Killers really are, in this writer’s opinion, all that.
With its large logo paying tribute to Ben Franklin and its hippy-era predecessor venue of the same name, the Electric Factory is a converted warehouse in the heart of Philadelphia. The fans that arrived early enough on a mild and breezy afternoon to queue up for this General Admission gig were treated to an hour-long sound check-cum-rehearsal that they listened to in line, with the sound ricocheting off the tall buildings for an unusual kind of urban reverb. With lots of little breaks, Flowers babble, and musical messing around, the group casually tweaked loose and playful versions of “Bling,” “When You Were Young,” “Read My Mind,” “Bones,” “Somebody Told Me,” “Mr. Brightside,” and “Sam's Town.” (The fans who'd driven in from Maryland in elf and Santa hats respectively later assured me that they also did a Dire Straits cover.)
As the temperature dropped, the line grew, and the eclectic collection of fans passed the time sharing their Killers' stories. While some teenagers were dropped off by their parents, others attended with their parents, while still others were seasoned alt-rock fans old enough to be older brothers and sisters of said parents. All of the fans shared the wait with merry anticipation. One scalper—who couldn't find any tickets to this sold-out and rescheduled show to resell—set up a makeshift concession stand instead, offering snacks to the hungry and patient. Ultimately, the infinite afternoon passed into evening. The doors opened, and the devoted filled the room to capacity, with incredible manners for a General Admission gig. After an energetic and cacophonous opening set by a young Philly band called The Cobbs (who allegedly joined the bill at the last minute), the faithful had only 50 minutes to take bathroom breaks and buy drinks, with many bypassing both to keep the best standing spots close to the front.
By 9:25 pm, the lights dimmed, and the Killers took the stage for what promised to be a killer show. After months of anticipation and an October cancellation, this faction of the faithful could finally taste the traveling pop carnival built from a neon “Welcome” sign attached to a piano that doubled as an altar, decorated with skeletons and fresh flowers, as if paying tribute to the Day of the Dead or perhaps the ghost of painter Frida Kahlo, especially if she were reincarnated as an indie rock goddess from the open spaces of a Mesoamerican mythology merged with the Killers' “American masquerade.” From the elaborately decorated synth stand to the multicolored flags to the bright white lights to the extraordinary curtain backdrop, the Sam's Town stage set provides a festive visual echo of the album's audacious audio collage where every syllable Flowers sings in addictive anthemic allegory is draped in Dave Keuning's dramatic guitar and brought back to earth by Ronnie Vannucci's drums and Mark Stoermer's bass.
(Photo courtesy of Nancy Chacon)
For the first moment of the 75-minute set, the Killers took us out of time into a timeless musical blissfest where the band demonstrated that a relentless work ethic can result in a tight musical interplay and sweet tempered camaraderie. The 16 songs followed one of a handful of tried and true choreographies chosen for this leg of the tour, alternating between both hit records and including a favorite B-side called “Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll.” They opened with the trilogy of “Sam's Town,” “Enterlude,” and hit single “When You Were Young” before dipping into the first record with the always energetic “Somebody Told Me.” This tested sequence created an irrepressible, upbeat, and intense mood for the inspired masses. After so much wanting and waiting, we were rapt for the ride shared by the entire hall with heads bobbing, hands waving, and hundreds shouting each word or chanting, “Brandon! Brandon! Brandon!” between cuts. One fan who still prefers “Hot Fuss” to “Sam's Town” noted that he didn't realize how many songs on the new record he loved so much until he found himself singing along.
The middle of the set showcased “Smile Like You Mean It” and “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” from “Hot Fuss” along with new single “Bones,” “Bling,” “Read My Mind,” and “Uncle Jonny” from “Sam's Town.” Since one young fan insisted she'd die if she didn't hear “Mr. Brightside,” I'm sure she and so many others were thrilled when that track concluded the main set. The only disappointing aspect of the encore, of course, comes with the realization that the show is almost over. “My List” only prepared the way for a ferocious “For Reasons Unknown” with Flowers on guitar. When we hear the profoundly perfect opening line of “All These Things That I've Done,” we can't help but wish there was room for one more song, for one more show. At the grand climax, Flowers climbed above us all like a postmodern Moses on his personal mountaintop. He stopped singing and pointed the mic stand at us. At his suggestion, we were happy to holler in our hoarse voices “I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier” as the houselights went bright.
Flowers is such a flamboyant and engaged frontman that it should be hard to take one's eyes off him to study the impressive antics of the other band members. But the Killers are a real four-piece in the classic sense, where each player brings his own personality and talent to the fore. Vannucci is a crazed rhythm monster, making mad love to his drum kit. Keuning and Stoermer are tight and on top of their game as they also obviously enjoy themselves and all the attention of any fans who let their eyes wander from the bouncing Flowers, even for a minute.
But when we follow the singer, he never stops holding us with his committed focus, his eye contact, his stadium-sized rock star gestures. What can compare to Flowers doing his boundless bopping? Who doesn't love him standing on the monitors, standing on the piano, singing and shouting his soul silly and our killer fix?
After the excellent live version of “Exitlude,” the crowd at the front enjoyed a shower of crumpled set lists, fresh flowers, and flying drumsticks. Somehow the crowded Philadelphia streets seemed warmer and sweeter than they did only a few hours ago, with hundreds humming Killers' songs on the way to their cars and into their dreams. Leaving was like living in the coda of one excellent song they didn't play, “The River is Wild”:
“Now the cars are everywhere
Lacing dust at the fairgrounds
I don’t think I ever seen so many headlights
But there’s something pulling me
The circus and their crew
Well they’re just passing through
Making sure that merry still goes round”
