The Killers suck. I present for you sele …

The Killers suck. I present for you selections from exhibits A-Z:

Exhibit R: Rolling Stone loves them: “What does it mean that one of the early 21st century’s best British bands is actually from Las Vegas?”

Exhibit V: Brandon Flowers in the third person on being from Vegas: “The unique habitat in which our subjects developed, their native characteristics shaped by external factors would go towards creating a band so clearly the product of their environment and yet so perfectly adapted to becoming a truly dominant species in the world of pop.”

Exhibit I: The Inanity of “Indie Rock n’ Roll”, initially a British version B-side, blatantly pitch corrected, blaring joke of a song.

Exhibit F: Their first single, it was hate at first listen:

A man working the bar scene: Breaking my back just to know your name / Seventeen tracks and I’ve had it with this game

Perhaps he realizes the futility of ritualized seduction: But heaven ain’t close in a place like this / Anything goes but don’t blink or you might miss

But gets some disturbing news: Never thought I’d let a rumour ruin my moonlight

That’s right, she’s dating his ex-girlfriend.

Exhibit H: The first track off of Hot Fuss, the first part of a trilogy of songs about the murder of an ex-girlfriend:

She said she loved me, but she had somewhere to go
She couldn’t scream while I held her close
I swore I’d never let her go
Tell me what you want to know
Oh come on, oh come on, oh come on
There ain’t no motive for this crime
Jenny was a friend of mine

Oh crashing time can’t hide a guilty girl
With jealous hearts that start with gloss and curls
I took my baby’s breath beneath the chandelier
Of stars in atmosphere
And watched her disappear
Into the midnight show

Exhibit B: The beats! Writing in Stylus, Anthony Miccio tells me to suck it up: “Instead of crying about Jet or The Killers being a bunch of idiot posers, one should celebrate how they represent the increase of danceability and playfulness on sluggish rawk radio. It’s actually more cynical than pining for some messianic figure to smash the system and it let’s you save that precious ulcer-space for something more worthwhile.”