Brandon Flowers is having trouble explaining himself. Maybe it's because nothing about him adds up: a couture-wearing synth-pop fanatic who wants to be Bruce Springsteen; a devout Mormon who sings in a decadent Las Vegas rock band. Maybe it's because when Flowers talks, he tends to get in trouble — like when he bragged that Sam's Town, the previous album from his band, the Killers, was "one of the best albums in the last 20 years" before anyone heard it. Or maybe it's because, as the Killers prepare to release their third album, Day & Age, he's still not sure what kind of band they are. "Every day, I change," says Flowers. "One day I want to be dead serious, and the next I just want to write great pop songs and have fun. I don't have any kind of clear direction. I don't know if I'd want to." He sighs. "I don't even know why people want to talk to me."

Flowers is sitting at the empty bar of a steakhouse tucked inside the Four Queens Hotel and Casino, a low-rolling Vegas spot across the street from the Killers' rehearsal space. He's brought two beverages with him: a Crystal Geyser water and the remains of a Coke Slurpee. Every aspect of his appearance is arranged with OCD perfection: The sleeves of his red plaid shirt are rolled with military precision; his two-day stubble roughens his baby face just so; his mussed brown hair looks like he has it cut and styled twice a day.

But he's talking in the halting cadences of a nervous teenager, batting away too-tough queries with an incongruous, childlike giggle. He struggles to answer a simple question: What does he mean by the line that provides his album title, "I want the new day and age," in the song "Neon Tiger"? "It means, I want a new day and age — I think that things could be better," Flowers says, then pauses for nearly 10 seconds, looking down at the table. "I don't feel like I'm allowed to say some of the things that I feel." Why? "I'm too handsome."

Day & Age, produced by Madonna collaborator Stuart Price, is a lot more fun than the Springsteen-meets-Queen bombast of Sam's Town. As bassist Mark Stoermer puts it, "It's all over the place" — but in a good way, from the quirky synth-and-horns pop of "Losing Touch" to the Disintegration-era Cure-style album closer, "Good Night, Travel Well." "This album isn't trying to be anything," Flowers says. "We have so many influences, and we don't want to be tied down or branded."