The Killers Have Killed For 20 Years
As Hot Fuss turns 20, a look back on their legacy
ICYMI! My Significant Otters interview with Ivi Hua came out on Monday! Thank you for all of the love on our conversation. You can read it below:
Otters,
There are, what, two weeks left in June? Time is stupid.
But I want to spend these next two weeks writing as much as I can, for this Substack and otherwise. We’re moving (again) in July—the last time we did, this Substack was already a thing, that’s how little time has passed. I’ll try to write ahead of schedule so that my absence isn’t felt by any of you. Besides, it feels good to be writing poems super regularly again for the first time since my classes ended in April. Sometimes they’re even good! Can you believe that? I can’t.
Last week I think I mentioned to you that I was going to be writing a bunch of album retrospectives because so many great albums turn 20 or 30 in the month of June and I will still probably miss some obvious ones to write about. Please don’t come at me, bro.
I wasn’t even a year old when Hot Fuss came out, so I can’t give you the details every other retrospective published on Hot Fuss has given you about how the amazing the New York music scene was in the early 2000s and how the Killers basically ended up bigger than all of those bands even though they were from Las Vegas.
Actually, this essay isn’t even really gonna be about Hot Fuss. It is mostly me providing you with the slightly hot take that the Killers made some seriously great music AFTER Hot Fuss, contrary to what everyone tells you about them peaking 20 years ago. They put out a greatest hits collection a few weeks ago and it really speaks to their longevity and consistency.
Unfortunately, the thing about Hot Fuss is they did that thing half of U2’s best albums do, where its Side A reads like its own greatest hits collection. Probably because they themselves were huge U2 fans but whatever.
There are very few album openers that sound like “Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine”. It’s insane how all its pieces just fit together. Not too long ago I was in Rosedale listening to that song—it is an incredible strutting-down-the-street-feeling-like-a-badass song, and I didn’t even realize until it came up on shuffle. Brandon Flowers's distorted yelps at the end of every chorus might be one of my favourite moments in any Killers song. And the synth solo at the end! It makes you wanna jump around while also getting away with being incredibly corny at the same time!! How many bands can pull that off? How many bands can pull that off on the first song of their first record???
Then there’s “Mr. Brightside”. Which we don’t have to talk about since you already know it by heart.
But oh my god, what about “Smile Like You Mean It” and “Somebody Told Me” and “All These Things That I’ve Done”? Absolute stone-cold, I-want-to-have-an-all-time-good-time classics. Like, you’d be pissed if you went to see them live and they didn’t play one of those songs.
Now, because those above 5 songs are so incredibly perfect, people often lose sight of how good Side B is since it has no hits. Sure, none of them scale the heights of the “Smile Like You Mean It” guitar solo. But I’m sure there were so many 2000s NYC bands who couldn’t write anything as good as “On Top” and “Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll”. No band could create the fuss Hot Fuss did in 2004.
But here’s the thing! You think the Killers would just mail it in after that earth-shattering debut, phoning it in and playing uninspired synth-pop tunes? Hell no.
I mean, you could argue 2012’s Battle Born and 2017’s Wonderful Wonderful was that period for them. But even those albums have skyscrapers very few other bands could build. “Runaways” is an anthem and a half. And you might find “The Man” annoying as hell, but it was my song of the summer in 2017—I am bumping it right now, it grooves and shimmeys like nothing else—and who am I if not perpetually right.
The rest of their catalogue? Basically zero misses. The Killers never had a sophomore slump because Sam’s Town could in fact be even better than Hot Fuss. Imagine! All this pressure on you to deliver a Hot Fuss II and you give your fans something slightly out of left field but that also expands your sound and cements your reputation as amphitheatre barnburners.
Few bands in the last 20 years have attempted to go for absolutely broke—and, importantly, be completely transparent about the fact that they wanted to go for absolutely broke, that this was their attempt at writing a perfect song—the way these guys did on “When You Were Young”.
And I am in the total minority on this, because loads of critics have said that “When You Were Young” is the best song they ever made, but I think “Read My Mind” might actually be the perfect song on Sam’s Town instead. The whole thing is art but Brandon’s melodies have always strikes me as particularly gorgeous, recalling Chris Martin in their pretty falsettoness.
If I had more time and gave myself more words to work with instead of forcing myself to stay around 1,000 words in every post, we could also talk about the great songs that front load 2008’s Day & Age, or the glossy bangers that got me through lockdown on 2020’s Imploding the Mirage. But I want to end by talking about their last album they put out back in 2021.
It’s called Pressure Machine. The title comes from its title song that goes, “the kingdom of God is a pressure machine / every step, gotta keep it clean.” The first time I heard that line, I gasped. He summed it up. Brandon was trying to pinpoint where society’s general antipathy comes from, trying to make sense of our collective sadness. The whole album aims to do that, really, painting a portrait of small-town living. It’s unlike anything the Killers have ever made. It’s their Achtung Baby or Nebraska. There aren’t many synths, wild crescendos, or ambitious hooks, but that’s okay. I’ve always wanted them to make an album like that—something reflective and restrained, something that kills the way only quiet things can.