01:00 AM EDT on Wednesday, June 8, 2005

BY RICK MASSIMO
Journal Pop Music Writer

PROVIDENCE -- The knock on The Killers is that they're '80s retreads, repackaging the sounds and song structures of groups such as Duran Duran, Echo and the Bunnymen, and other '80s rockers for a new generation.

And that's not entirely untrue. But it dodges the question of whether the group, which played Monday night at Lupo's, does it well. And it does.

Sure, if you want to play Spot the Influences, it's not hard -- the hit "Somebody Told Me" sounds like they sneaked into the recording studio right after Loverboy finished recording "Working for the Weekend." "Change Your Mind" sounds like several U2 songs run into a blender, with anthemic choruses, mountain-top guitars and stately chord changes. You could virtually sing Duran Duran's "Planet Earth" over The Killers' "Midnight Show."

And last night's performance of a new song, "All the Pretty Faces," didn't seem to herald a new era, either.

Still, they've got the pop songwriting chops to keep this going after VH1 stops rerunning the I Love the '80s miniseries (well, OK, maybe not that long).

The Killers' record, Hot Fuss, is immaculately produced (some would say overly so), with chilly synthesizers, snarly guitars and booming drums, and the question was how it would translate to the live stage. Turns out they did pretty well, actually, though with what sounded like the help of some offstage keyboards (though I can't be sure about that).

Frontman Brandon Flowers, who also stabbed at keyboards at various times during the set, careened around the stage like an office worker having a bad day, his stiff but impassioned body movements reminiscent of someone revolting against self-imposed limitations. His onstage persona is also helped by probably the best set of eyebrows currently in rock music.

The thing is, The Killers do recall the rock music of the '80s -- just not in a look-at-those-parachute-pants kind of way. There are the contrasts between the icy keyboards and the occasionally explosive, always impassioned drumming of Ronnie Vannucci, for one -- particularly on last night's "All These Things I've Done."

The synthesis of rock and electronic dance-pop had already happened, The Killers seem to realize. But they combine them differently, adding touches of freeze-dried funk to their rock rather than the other way around, as happened so often in the Age of Reagan.

Lyrically, it wasn't a cheery affair. Songs included their modern-day murder ballad "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine" ("She couldn't scream while I held her close/ I swore I never let her go/ . . . There ain't no motive for this crime/ Jenny was a friend of mine") and the stalker anthem "Andy You're a Star" ("In a car with a girl, promise me she's not your world/ Cause Andy, you're a star/ In nobody's eyes but mine").

Even when they dwell on optimism, it's often in the guise of making it seem ridiculous, such as on their second hit, "Mr. Brightside," a look at well-founded jealousy ("Now I'm falling asleep/ And she's calling a cab/ While he's having a smoke/ And she's taking a drag").

But they don't want you to feel your pain, which many groups working the dark side of the street do these days. They're immaculately coiffed, well-dressed, restrained, and only vaguely malevolent.

Maybe these musical cycles reflect historical cycles. Maybe they lead the historical cycles. Who knows? All I know is, if we can have another Bush, is it really a sin to have another Duran Duran? Especially one with tunes as catchy as this?

Timing is everything, and two years ago last night's openers, Louis XIV, would've easily scored a spot on one of those roughly biennial rock-is-back cover stories that Rolling Stone and Spin like to run. If they can hang around another couple of years, they might make the next round. Their combination of garage-rock stomps and sneering vocals is hardly new, but energetic.