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The Killers: Hot Fuss

The Killers: Hot Fuss


By Mikael Wood | Posted 7/28/2004

Unless you want to be them or sleep with them (or you’re like the nearly 99 percent of Americans who don’t live in Williamsburg or Silver Lake and have thus never heard of them), you probably want to kill the Killers. Virtual unknowns as recently as a year ago outside their native Las Vegas, these nattily attired pretty boys are suddenly everywhere, plying their sleek, sleazy dance rock to anyone not already sick of the Rapture and Franz Ferdinand. They’re the epitome of the overnight hype, the kind of full-throttle marketing effort that more often than not pushes no-talent copycats onto a public being relieved of its ability to choose.

So hate them if you want; plenty of bitter bloggers and aspiring rock stars do. But don’t let that stop you from enjoying Hot Fuss, the Killers’ debut, an absolute feast of empty fashion-rock calories and shameless hipster posturing. “Somebody told me you had a boyfriend,” frontman Brandon Flowers leers in the band’s hit single (“Somebody Told Me”), “who looks like a girlfriend that I had in February of last year.” That’s what these guys think about, but they do it in irresistible colors: zippily strummed electric guitar in “Mr. Brightside,” gooey synth ooze in “On Top,” disco high-hat action in “Midnight Show,” a totally pointless gospel choir in “All These Things That I’ve Done” (wherein Flowers cleverly admits, “I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier”). If Generation Y needs its own Duran Duran, here they are.

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