‘Mr Brightside’ in Ireland (original) (raw)

The Killers perform 'Mr Brightside'

In all the Irish media kerfuffle about Ireland’s young people in their thousands singing “Ooh ahh, up the Ra!” with The Wolfe Tones on ‘Celtic Symphony’ at Electric Picnic 2023, one detail went overlooked. In the subsequent Irish top 100 singles chart on Friday 8 September, ‘Celtic Symphony’—sung by thousands on the Sunday, discussed by every media outlet for the following week—didn’t appear at all. That’s right: the most talked-about song in the country didn’t even make that week’s charts. (On its original 1989 release ‘Celtic Symphony’ reached no. 14 in Ireland, and re-entered the Irish top 30 for a week to hit no. 23 in October 2022.)

By contrast, another Electric Picnic headliner’s signature song charted that week at no. 58 – ‘Mr Brightside’ by The Killers. This wasn’t a new entry: ‘Mr Brightside’ was already in the Irish charts the week before. In fact, ‘Mr Brightside’ has been in the Irish charts for quite a while now – in January 2025 it clocked up 350 weeks in total on the Irish singles chart. And if you think that’s surprising, how about this: in all those 350 weeks in Ireland’s singles chart, ‘Mr Brightside’ has never been in the Irish top 40. Its highest Irish chart place ever is no. 42, which it equalled in January 2024 when it was used in the movie Saltburn.

In truth, you don’t need chart stats to know that ‘Mr Brightside’ is still ubiquitous and popular. I’ve heard it recently on daytime music radio while sitting in cafes and queueing in shops. Music bars have it on their Spotify playlists, and DJs know from the crowd—stag parties, post-match punters, “the lads”—whether they need to drop it in. Other songs are ubiquitous too, of course. What wedding DJ doesn’t have ‘Come On Eileen’ to hand? What busker doesn’t know ‘Hallelujah’ or ‘Wonderwall’? But ‘Come On Eileen’, ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Wonderwall’ aren’t still in the Irish charts; ‘Mr Brightside’ is. It began life with The Killers as part of the early-’00s wave of US indie rock bands, peers of The Strokes and Kings Of Leon, which explains that lowly chart place. Since then, though, ‘Mr Brightside’ has enjoyed a remarkable second life as crowd-pleasing mainstream-slash-basic shoutalong staple: not even the background noise of a Saturday night out or match-day football stadium but front and centre in the experience. And its consistent chart placing is despite the fact that, as an older track, Irish chart rules state that it must have 200 streams per ‘sale’, compared to just 100 streams for a new release – in other words, in real terms ‘Mr Brightside’ is being streamed far more times than many of the new tracks above it in the charts every week. (This rule also goes some way to explaining why it has never cracked the Irish top 40.) Can we explain this increasing and enduring popularity? Let’s try.

Sometimes a song or an act gets its second life from an ironic fandom: the ’90s ABBA revival was slathered in archness at first, before people loosened up and realised it’s okay to love ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘Waterloo’ sincerely as genuine pop masterpieces. Other times, it’s sincerity that drives the fandom from day one, be it confessional heartache in Taylor Swift’s songs or the Jumbotron hand-heart of U2 and Coldplay. Now, for me ‘Mr Brightside’ doesn’t have room for irony: its stainless-steel guitar intro, overwrought lyrics and bombastic delivery are hermetically sealed. The thing is, for those same reasons I don’t find sincerity in it either. ‘Mr Brightside’ isn’t a song that swells with emotion or pierces with drama. It’s overwrought and bombastic on a flat line from start to finish, and its lyrics are shards of random big-sounding hollow phrases: “I’ve been doing JUST FINE!” “IT WAS ONLY A KISS!” “Jealousy!” “I NEVER!” I reckon ‘Mr Brightside’ works in busy bars and clubs because that incessant staccato bombast can be heard over the noise of crowds; you only need to catch one or two of those random phrases to get the ‘Mr Brightside’ experience and remember it—if anything—as part of your night out.

To whom would a rock song without irony or sincerity appeal? I mentioned the stereotypical fans of ‘Mr Brightside’ above: groups of lads, in Ireland dressed in blue bootcut jeans and brown piss-catcher shoes, out for pints, banter and the greatest horseplay of all time. Having grown up in small-town Ireland and gone only to all-boys schools, I know that lads prey on sincerity: if you fancy someone, or study diligently, or follow a sub-culture, you’ll either get mocked mercilessly or live in fear of same. (I spent my secondary school years with my head down, steering clear of everyone, hoping no-one would notice me. This worked, insofar as I got through it. I didn’t go to the debs, though.) If anyone asks, you like what everyone else likes and nothing that stands out as different or weird. ‘Mr Brightside’ passes that test: a bland rock song with loud shout-out bits and no noticeable displays of ironic weirdness or mockable sincerity. It also has among those bombastic lyrics the prominently laddish “He takes off her dress now” – woohoo! Just as the anthemic refrain “you’re my wonderwall” sounds big but reveals nothing, ‘Mr Brightside’ is generic enough to take self-consciousness off the table.

Yes, there are fans of The Killers in general and other audiences for this track. Still, I propose that for the most part ‘Mr Brightside’ is so popular because it meets at least one widespread demand: lads of all ages can profess to liking it, and shout along in a crowded bar or nightclub to it, without fear of being made fun of by their mates. If this suggests that ‘Mr Brightside’ has less a fandom than a user group, so be it. Utility may well be reason enough to keep a record in our charts for 350 weeks and our bars an eternity.

[Updated January 2025]

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Published October 1, 2023January 13, 2025

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