Pressure Machine was an unexpected delight. Announced barely a month ago, The Killers declined to give us a taste of what was to come. Now released, that decision makes sense. Had they tried to dissect the album’s sprawling, honest depiction of life in middle America, the weight which the collective album delivers would’ve been lost.
The comparisons to Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska could be made ten times over. Desperate Things appears born as the softer son to Highway Patrolman, and the stark, foreboding landscape Springsteen created nearly 40 years ago would find itself an easy home amongst Flowers’ conflicted longing for his hometown.
Quiet drunk nights, boring days where the heat is oppressive, and always a hint of danger, it’s an encapsulation of what it means to realise yourself in a small town. The Killers’ best work has always come from a place of introspection, and in their most engaging work since Sam’s Town they find their glory in the desert of Utah.
Pressure Machine by The Killers is out now via Universal/Island.
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