For its first three albums, Kings of Leon were the state-fair version of the Strokes, deep-frying catchy garage-rock guitars in a batter of Southern colloquialisms and producing at least one truly great record, 2005's Aha Shake Heartbreak. Then, for album No. 4, they all got fancy new haircuts, traded the Trans Am for a stretch Hummer and drove headlong into their bloated âU2 phase.â
The "Radioactive" video.
In which the band ends racism by frolicking through the sepia-toned South with a bunch of adorable black kids, showcasing a lack of self-awareness not seen since Russell Brand undulated through a war zone while performing a song called âAfrican Childâ in Get Him to the Greekâexcept that was a joke for a movie.
That time they were attacked by bird crap.
At a show in St. Louis, the band walked off the stage after being repeatedly shat on by pigeons. When word got out about shit raining down on a Kings of Leon gig, most people went, "Sounds about right."
That time the band fell apart onstage.
Another instance of the band ending a show early due to a bodily function, this time in Dallas, when frontman Caleb Followill announced he was going backstage to vomit, then basically didn't return for two years.
The Followill clan ended its hiatus with last year's Mechanical Bull, and like a failing sitcom trying to stay relevant, introduced a new relative, Cousin Nacho, to essentially act as the band's social-media director, hosting kooky videos like a backstage Philly cheesesteak taste-off while wearing designer rocker duds that probably cost more than the restaurants he bought the sandwiches from.
SEE IT: Kings of Leon play Moda Center, 1 N Center Court St., on Thursday, March 27. 7:30 pm. $29.50-$59.50. All ages.