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The Killers - Wonderful Wonderful

posted 8 Jan 2018, 03:36 by Scene Alba Magazine
3 Stars
Well, is it? Is it wonderful? Even the band themselves saw the lacklustre feet dragging that masqueraded as their last album ‘Battle Born’. A not so spectacular exercise in blandness, so ‘Wonderful, Wonderful’ needs to really impress, particularly with that moniker.

It’s certainly more awake that their last album, someone has set the alarm this time it has all the recognisable Killers sounds, Dave Keuning’s standard rock guitars dueling with Flowers’ love of all things synthesiser. Rising epics and soaring anthems are back on The Killers’ menu and if you’re a dyed in the wool fan, quite frankly you’ll love it, for everyone else it’s a semi-step back.

Lead track ‘Wonderful Wonderful’ is heralded by a lone bugle as Flowers’ voice full of determination and renewed vigour rumbles over the horizon, drums thundering in his wake hollering about motherless children over a chorus that veers curiously close to Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’ it’s skyscraping and vast but ever so familiar.

Disco gets a look in on ‘The Man’ as they try on Daft Punk’s glittery jackets on to see how they fit, just a size too small but not too bad. The ‘gentle ballad erupting into super soaraway song’ box gets a tick with ‘Rut’ and ‘Life to Come’ (which engages the band’s New Order obsession so completely you’re just awaiting the legal papers from Peter Hook regarding the wholesale theft of his bass sound).

‘Run for Cover’ is so Killers-by-numbers it could be a parody of the band, ‘Some Kind of Love’ is a mournful drip of a song while ‘The Calling’ invokes the unholy ghost of Depeche Mode circa ‘Violator’ but without the clenched fist in an S & M glove sleaziness.

And that’s one of the major issues with this record, it’s a satisfactory Killers by numbers record but they’re not hungry for it, they have no teeth, back in the early albums they felt like they owned it and when you’re finishing your album with a song called ‘Have All The Songs Been Written’ it’s sailing dangerously close to the truth of the matter that possibly The Killers’ best days are behind them and it’s now just a case of producing Festival fodder for the drunken masses to bellow at the top of their lungs in a field.

But then maybe we just need one more Mr. Birightside.
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