Credit: Off their Myspace page innit

With a mixed response to the second album, you may be forgiven for thinking that The Killers might have lost a large portion of their audience here in the UK. Not so it seems, tickets are trading hands at around the eighty pound mark as we trudge from the train station and forlorn fans hold signs outside the arena that proclaim “Need Ticket”. The touts will score high tonight.

The arena still looks fresh with fancy fountains and lighting that would be a cute addition to a Pride march, toilets are not so manky and for a large venue, the crowd control is pretty good.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club try to warm up the early-birds, but most people seem happier milling about buying over-priced hotdogs and decanted beers below the seats. A good reason for this might be that the BRMC are terrible on stage at large venues. In my heart I love them, I like the songs, I still listen to the albums, but they have the same stage presence as my friend “never gets served Bob” at a bar. Go see them somewhere small and they’ll rock your socks, watch them at a stadium and they suck.

Wall of sound, Jesus and Mary Chain dress down in black-ness over with, the main act is heralded by lighting hands cheered up their tiny ladders into the rigging like Jack Bauer the agents of show technicians. A huge whit curtain is placed and a pretty sinister collection of black and white film is played over the sheet showing Vegas sights and desert sands. It looks like Roswell.

With flash and great gusts of glitter, the curtain falls and The Killers are into their stride on stage to crank up the hit machine. Literally bombarding the old grey whistle tester we hear all the familiar favourites one after another and the crowd on the floor of the arena practically go from “what’s that?” to frenzy in the space of four tracks.

The Killers put on an excellent show. Lights and glamour, glitter bombs and a well dressed set. Flowers is all over the stage like a circus ringleader whipping the performance into line. One thing that came from the perfection though, was an odd sensation that I was listening to the albums rather than a live performance. Don’t get me wrong, I like a tight set, but the point of seeing a good live show is coming away with the feeling that you have seen something unique, a one time only chance to take in something different. There was little variation in the live set but this was countered by a stage show so professional that I wondered if starting out in Vegas might teach you something about performance perfection that cannot be garnered through playing pub after pub in the North of England.