sam's town - a review

I see London; I see Sam's Town

Pulls my hand, and let's my hair down 

Rolls that world right off my shoulder 

I see London; I see Sam's Town now

Sometimes I ask myself questions no one would ask me, like, "If you could do a cover of an entire album and get to sing it live, what album would it be?" Then under my breath I'd answer, "Sam's Town by The Killers" and to validate myself I say "Good choice" out loud. 

Scenario 2: "If your movie had an OST, what are the songs?"
Answer: "The entire album of The Killers' Sam's Town"

Scenario 3: "What songs make you want to make a music video?"
Answer: "Hmm that's a tough one... maybe the whole Sam's Town album?"

---------------------------------

Welcome to my first ever empirical review of one of the albums I hold dear to my heart—Sam’s Town. 

This is the part where you hit the play button with me. 

[hits play button] 

What? What did you say? The music is really loud. 

Sam’s Town’s welcome. ENTERLUDE. When I was young. 

Back in Leyte, my hometown, I spent most of my afternoons helping my parents with chores, or play with my siblings. We never watched the TV because for some reason there was an unwritten rule that the only technology welcome by sunset is the stereo. My parents were big rock fans so they had various burned CDs and cassette tapes they’d always loop and for a while, they looped Sam’s Town. On full volume. Every. Effin. Day. (I just realized that this may be the reason I play albums so much because my parents played albums since skipping songs were a hassle before LOL you just witnessed me unlocking a part of my character arch) So anyway, they keep playing it until we, the children of Luna and Kim, memorized every damn thing, and unconsciously singing along to every song chronologically. I first noticed this because I was listening to the radio one time and they played For Reasons Unknown and I felt uncomfortable not hearing Read My Mind after.  

#classicalconditioning 

BLING. For Reasons Unknown. 

Fast forward to peak teenager years when earphones became my best friend, I began listening to the songs alone. Literally the album is meant to reflect the band's journey and mostly Brandon Flowers’ life, but you know me, I always take every artistic masterpiece personally—emulating moments in my life and turning them into impossible yet realistic scenes inside my head that visually never and will never happen (usually in slow-mo), connect it to my story, and go on with my life never the same way again. 

Sam’s Town was there cradling me during moments I’d feel lost and oddly all over the place, and it was there when the only language I spoke was in forms of explosion. It was there when I set most of me on fire, and it was there to watch me all burn. It washed the pain away, but again and again kept drowning me back to a montage of memories I’ve endured—that until now still wounds. 

But above anything else, it was there to see me get up from a traumatic and agonizing fall. 

Read my mind. Jonny. Bones. MY LIST. 

But other than the drama it witnessed, it’s also the album where I associate everyone I love, and everybody I loved. I get to see smiles of most people I will, and might never see again. In this album, and with the help of my memories, they’re immortalized. 

Emotions are also immortalized. Joy lingers while sadness creeps. Each song has a capsule filled with one or more plots with the same energy, and when they merge, suddenly no matter the agenda, a small portion of my life starts making sense—tragedy meant to happen, mistakes were anticipated, and it was okay that the only thing I did was cry and watch everything collapse before me. 

River. Count. EXITLUDE. 

So I guess other than the fact Sam’s Town’s narrative derives from The Killers and whatever the album meant to them, I became fond of it because I treated it as an anthem. This album was one of the things that grounded me and kept me standing. It helped me carry the scars and tokens from the good and horrible things that defined me—which are obviously just between me and me. It drugged me and drugged with me, held my hand tight, and promised everything is and will be fine. 

(By the way, on a more technical note, I only have one word for the entire production: inimitable) 

With its last song, it feels as if The Killers is painlessly and slowly letting you go from the emotional rollercoaster they’ve put you in, reminding you it was just a ride and you’re now on your own, safe and sound—like you’ve always been, I’ve always been. 

--

That's it. I hope you get to listen to it, so let me know what you think. And let me know what you think about my writing too because I’m always practicing and any feedback is appreciated. 

I’m going to get a massage now. Bye.

LOVE,

PLAYLIST:

. . .

Guess.