These generic tendencies, however, served The Killers well in one way: They reached an amazing level of inclusivity. Like their stage props, their songs became one-size-fits-all shells that fans could fill with their own memories, meanings, and enthusiasm. 

In one especially sweet moment, the band granted the wish of a young, bespectacled fan named Brendan bearing a sign for drummer Ronnie Vannucci Jr.: “May I Play Drums President Vannucci #2020.” The young drummer was brought onto the stage, kept a steely focus through “For Reasons Unknown,” and afterward broke into a smile that never seemed to end.

Curious to learn more about fans’ devotion to The Killers, I turned to my peers. A few themes emerged: nostalgia, social experiences, and ambivalence about the tune. My first-year roommate, Grace K. Bannister ’21, answered my impromptu text by relating the song to middle-school punk memories. She also described what she called a “mob mentality” effect: “If most of the group thinks a song is lit, everyone else just goes along and suddenly it’s a banger,” she wrote. The friend I ran into at Panorama, who attends the University of Michigan, also recounted communal experiences when I asked why she was excited about the show. “We go to the football game every weekend, and we hear ‘Mr. Brightside’ at least four times at each game,” she said. But did she actually like the song? “It’s fine,” she said.

Meanwhile, my brother, Andrew R. Chow ’14, believed The Killers benefited from nostalgia not just across semesters but also across musical eras—specifically, a memory of the Bruce Springsteen days when rock stars could command the stage with guitars. 

However, my friends could not agree on whether the song felt like punk sarcasm or pumped-up positivity. Sunday’s “Mr. Brightside,” and, in fact, the set as a whole, walked that line deftly without needing to make the decision. The message was up to the watchers, and that was part of the magic.

My roommate had also texted me that “Mr. Brightside” should be the climax of any good party. Likewise, Panorama attendees knew it would be this three-day party’s closer. As The Killers reentered for their encore, I thought I might finally be able to hear the energy that has set parties ablaze around the world. But I couldn’t hear the band at all—the crowd drowned it out. This was fitting. The euphoric mob’s singing was all that mattered.

As my friends’ anecdotes and Sunday’s show suggested, the band’s remarkable knack for charming a broad populace has less to do with the music itself and more to do with the context in which the music is presented. In the future, they might find a way to captivate live audiences without undercutting the complexity of their own work.

—Staff Writer Liana E. Chow can be reached at liana.chow@thecrimson.com.