The Killers
Hot Fuss

THE REVIEW

Good morning to you all, sitting on your asses and open your books. Engineer Esposito, move closer to Dr. Russo so you can copy easier. Today we talk about how to become rich and famous and make love with beautiful girls like The Killers do.
Brandon Flowers expressed himself about his success like this: beauty counts - he says - it helps me to get lucky. Lawyer Piscopo, get the hell out, with that crappy face you'll never be lucky.

LESSON NUMBER 2

How to live happily ever after and make love with beautiful girls by copying like The Killers do in their album: Hot Fuss.

- Song number 1: JENNY WAS A FRIEND OF MINE. A disco-rock track that copies none other than the indispensable Duran Duran from their first two albums. No one comes out alive from the '80s, especially if they make them last 80 years. Extremely dangerous.
- Song number 2: MR. BRIGHTSIDE. More of the '80s. Copied The Cure, but made more commercial, otherwise who the hell would buy you in 2005. Whatever it takes to get by.
- Song number 3: SMELLS LIKE YOU MEAN IT. A pinch of The Smiths period "Meat is Murder" + "The Queen is Dead," a pinch of The Cult (shiver), even echoes of Chameleons and Echo and the Bunnymen (the problem isn't listening to them separately, but all together like a fruit salad). Cream on top.
- Song number 4: SOMEBODY TOLD ME. This damn song is shattering my balls (had to say it). It follows me, tails me, haunts me, chases me even to the bathroom: I pee and Flowers tells me I'm the guy who looks like a girl and I check and get a bit worried. Here they are, the masters: The Shed Seven. Who remembers them? Father Brambilla, do you remember them? Come on, father, make an effort or you also get the hell out, with that face of yours trying to copy to make love. This is how the divine Flowers expressed himself about Shed Seven: do I remember them? And who are they? Did they sell 3 million copies? No? Then it seems they are the ones who remember us. (When they say having a face like an ass.)
- Song number 5: ALL THESE THINGS THAT I’VE DONE. Jarvis Cocker was a poor loser but you have to admit he created a lot of followers. Pulp-mania, with a pinch of Level 42 (Holy Mary!), bass a bit Police (Blessed God!), echoes of Big Country (Most Holy Jesus!). Celestial.
- Song number 6: ANDY, YOU ARE A STAR. Somewhere I read that it might have been copied from the worst of Wire, it rather reminds me of Kula Shaker period “K”. You'll be stars.
- Song number 7: ON TOP. More Shed Seven. I even disliked the Shed Seven, and I never understood what the hell I listened to them for, but I did, and even now I listen to "On Top", which is a Shed Seven b-side, and is really very Shed Seven, and very '80s, and very crappy, and I was already hospitalized in '89 after 10 years of the '80s and now they want to harm me again but this time I've grown up and I'll fight with all my strength: I will defeat the evil forces that from the '80s have come back to destroy me. Return to the past.
- Song number 8: GLAMOROUS ROCK & ROLL. U2 from their early albums (and heaven forbid they copied the last ones that already copied the first which copied the last because the last will always be the first and because everyone knew it's all a copy-and-copy): you don't shiver in time before it starts sounding like Simple Minds, or maybe it was Simply Red, or maybe Simply Simple. Simply a masterpiece.
Song number 9: BELIEVE ME NATALIE. Joy Division + U2 + Bluetones (even!). The result is New Order. Unbearable.
- Song number 10: MIDNIGHT SHOW. Iggy Pop singing in Duran Duran. Is it possible? Dr. Franzetti, stop vomiting behind the blackboard. Compose yourself. Vomit-inducing.
- Song number 11: EVERYTHING WILL BE ALLRIGHT. Everyone copies the Human League. Putting them at the end is very cool. Dr. Franzetti, clean up the vomit and go ring the bell. Exhausted.

These clowns from The Killers have sold something like three million copies so far, they have an American singer who, to sell in England (the only land that would bear them), sings with a Birmingham accent and as a mystical phenomenon, he is second to none. No one comes out alive from the '80s unless you have the face of an ass.
Ah: they also remind me a bit of Ultravox. Luckily, I was getting worried. God save us all.