Millions of words spilled in an effort to cosplay being a "music critic" and I'm still finding it uncomfortable to actually critique music. I read a lot of music criticism online as well, and it's just as easy to read negative opinions as it is to read positive opinions. Sometimes I feel strongly that the writer is "wrong," but I never hold it against them personally. So then why am I so afraid of this disagreement when I come at it from the other direction? Why do I have to continually couch any criticism in the caveat of "Well maybe it's just not for me"? Shouldn't that just be implied?
I went down this rabbit hole again after reading reviews of the Killers' new album before I sat down and actually listened to the thing. The quality I like best about the Killers is that they are unafraid to be loud and cheesy and bombastic (especially because their frontman's voice and style fits so goddamn well with that aesthetic). However, the band's take on their new album, Pressure Machine, was that they were consciously going against that reputation, and attempting to make an album that was softer, prettier, and a little darker than their previous work.
If you're into that kind of stuff—like, say your favorite Springsteen album is Nebraska, for instance—then this is good news. To me personally, this was not good news. I like music when it's loud and cheesy and bombastic, and if the Killers aren't doing that—i.e. if they aren't doing the one thing that keeps me coming back to the Killers long after many of my peers had completely written them off—then why would I expect to like Pressure Machine?
On the other hand, how can I possibly say anything bad about Pressure Machine when every criticism leads directly back to the statement of "it's just not for me"? That's some weak shit.
It's also a criticism that completely disregards all the interesting qualities that this album brings to the table. Pressure Machine is described by the band as a "song cycle" about the dusty rural towns in Utah, where Brandon Flowers grew up, and recently returned to during COVID quarantine. Songs about families struggling with poverty and opioid addiction probably don't require the loud-cheesy-bombast to be affecting, right?
That criticism would also be ignoring the fact that the classic Killers sound is still present on Pressure Machine. Songs like "In the Car Outside" are vintage Killers, with a driving beat and a soaring chorus and, yeah, taking all the right lessons from Springsteen. "Cody" is another, and is probably more interesting than "In the Car Outside," only because "Cody" cannot be mistaken for an Imploding the Mirage B-side. It's more subdued, and more melancholy, which makes the bright horn spots and the guitar solo hit a lot harder when they finally come in. If the Killers had said that their new album was "slower" but then every track was like "Cody," I wouldn't be complaining.
But not every song is like "Cody." There is some loud and some cheesy and some bombastic moments for sure, because the Killers just can't help themselves, but the majority of Pressure Machine is a somber affair. That can work—and does, mostly—but it's still not hitting that sweet spot that this band usually hits over and over for me.
I think that's okay, because I also think it's great when bands try something completely new and don't fall completely on their asses, but it also puts me in a weird position. If my only criticism is that this band didn't again make an album that is specifically tailored to my (very basic) taste in music, then my review might rightfully lead toward the conclusion that the problem is me, not the album itself.
So I have no choice but to overrate Pressure Machine, because I have no real, substantial complaints about it. And let's be real, there is a very good chance that Pressure Machine is a grower, and so I'd rather give a higher grade and give it something to grow toward, as opposed to give the average score and then feel stupid about it later on.
GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5
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