Album Review: The Killers - Pressure Machine (2021)

I can’t say I’m a big fan of The Killers. I quite liked a couple of the band’s early singles, but I’ve never really been drawn to any of the many album releases, and I think party anthem ‘Mr Brightside’ is one of the most overrated pieces of bombast ever to pass itself off under the guise of an iconic indie rock tune. 

Which will make it all the more surprising when I tell you that I’m absolutely loving the latest Killers album, Pressure Machine, right now. I’m not sure quite how I got here. 

To compound just how disconcerting this is for me is the fact that as a long-term sceptic about the worth of Bruce Springsteen in the widescreen view of rock history (not a fan), I reckon Pressure Machine might just about be the most Springsteen-like album ever made by a bunch of musicians not called the E Street Band.

The biggest issue I’ve had with both Springsteen and The Killers in the past is that inescapable in-yer-face over-produced celebratory or triumphant “big” sound so beloved by so many. Subtlety and understatement have seldom been in the vocabulary of either Bruce or (Killers’ all-American hero) Brandon Flowers. Unless the album is Springsteen’s stripped-back masterpiece Nebraska, which admittedly is rather great, or as with this case, a 2021 rebirth for The Killers called Pressure Machine. 

The overriding vibe of the album is one of smalltown midwestern America, out in the back blocks of beyond, with tales about “hillbilly heroin pills”, opioid abuse, poverty, blind love, bent truths, sexual difference, suicide, and as on one stand-out track (‘Quiet Town’), the supposedly true story about the death of a teenage couple after they were hit by an oncoming train. Real life, observational, blue collar, gritty, grassroots stories that will surely resonate. 

The bonus being you won’t have to listen through too much sonic overload in order to grasp the theme of each song. Aided by short introductory spoken/dubbed narratives for most of them. The lyrics are right up in your face, but only because they’re not being drowned out, and because Flowers doesn’t have to strain to be heard above the din. Which means that musically it’s a little more stripped-back than might have otherwise been expected. A lot of acoustic guitar, some steel guitar, large helpings of harmonica, plus there’s a fair bit of atmosphere-enhancing cello and violin/fiddle etc. 

There are moments when the aforementioned “big” sound kicks in, resulting in a few of those overbearing pompous moments, but for the most part it feels a hell of lot more authentic and honest than anything I’ve ever previously heard from The Killers. Flowers sings these songs with an integrity and humility I’ve never before associated with him or his band. Where Flowers’ vocal might once have pushed me away, on Pressure Machine it draws me in close. 

And that might just be the key to my enjoyment of this Killers album, one that I picked up on a whim. I’m thankful that I did so. 

There’s no filler here, and the highlights include ‘West Hills’, ‘Quiet Town’, ‘Runaway Horses’, which features Phoebe Bridgers, ‘In Another Life’, and ‘Desperate Things’.