Some kind of pressure

 

All hail the latest Covid-induced gem: The Killers‘ semi-surprise 7th studio album Pressure Machine. When we say ‘semi-surprise’, we mean we knew it was coming, but it would probably have never seen the light of day without that forced break from touring the band had to take last year. Instead of staying idle, which creative minds don’t typically look on fondly, the band started working on a new album before Imploding the Mirage was even out. And they took a route that was understandably different with this project: they might be prevented from going forward, but no one could stop them from looking back…

Pressure Machine is precisely that extremely acute, perceptive, evocative look on one’s American youth. Not just anyone’s, mind you: mostly lead singer Brandon Flowers’. And the songs on the LP are preceded by testimonies of small town Americans describing a life that is quite far from rock stardom, yet closer to Flowers’ heart than one might think: although the man was famously born in Las Vegas, he actually spent part of childhood in Utah, i.e. further away from the spotlights. And everything here is meant to feel authentic: no over-produced, hyper lush arrangements, co-producer Shawn Everett was reportedly not even allowed to use a computer…

The album’s other co-producer is Jonathan Rado. If you don’t know the name, you should; and you might know his band’s name: Foxygen. And if you don’t know that name, there is nothing we can do for you. One of the most interesting and innovative alternative bands to emerge in recent years, it seems fitting that its co-leader would work on an original project such as this one. And by ‘original’, we don’t mean you can’t trace back some of its inspirations: from the first few notes of album opener “West Hills”, you very much can. And the Killers went for the very best, paying direct homage to The Boss‘ himself. Circa 1982: “Quiet Town” could almost be a classic Springsteen single, if it were not for the fact that the voice on the track is lighter, somewhat more emotional than his highness’ usual rawness.

In any event, Pressure Machine‘s stylistic choice is not one we will criticize: both inspired by greatness and executed with definite virtuosity, it comes as a welcome breath of vintage fresh air. The one comment we may still venture is this: as you listen through the album, you gradually get the feeling that Flowers and his colleagues might have been overly inspired by Mr Springsteen. While none of the songs here are bad in any way, they tend to merge into one another a little too seamlessly. And you are left wondering if it wouldn’t have been nice to get a few outliers here and there to mix things up.

Still, worth a listen. Or twelve.