Basically these dudes play politely anthemic stadium-rock tunes that are all exactly the same length (4:15 approximately) and all easy marks for a 100-percent Guitar Hero score, which is always appreciated: the chord changes simple and comforting, the guitar solos disruptive but orderly, the catchiest hooks sung by, uh, the drummer. (Including the mighty "Use Somebody," which is just straight up a fucking great song, and don't even bother arguing with me about this, especially since Jay-Z agrees.) Caleb Followill sings them all in his laconic drawl, never too excited or ferocious, and the same with his banter: How wild can this show get, really, when it includes the announcement "I just want to say how wonderful it is to have our moms here tonight. The two prettiest women in the world."
I know, right? Were they wearing mom jeans? Because that would not fucking be cool. Anyway, the Voice's Rob Harvilla seems to feel the show lacked a certain euphoria: "You could ask for more bombast, from band and crowd alike, but both seem perfectly content to mellow out. And why not." Because you know what happens when bands get more bombastic? Children get kicked in the face, that's what.