The Art Attic #4: Hot Fuss and Sawdust

Nostalgia has been described as a longing for something that never existed. A couple years ago, I turned 40. Unlike a lot of my contemporaries, I don't long for the era of grunge. I don't think fashion peaked in 2001. I don't think movies were just better back in my day. Perhaps this is because I was a weird kid who started reading the newspaper daily the moment I could start reading. Perhaps my lack of nostalgia stems of a childhood of religious abuse (not by my parents, who were lovely) and constant illness. Not exactly something you want to revisit.

A lot of albums remind me of specific parts of my past. Pieces of You by Jewel is when I was an angsty middle schooler new to depression and desperate to be taken seriously. Toxicity by System of a Down is the soundtrack of my father's stroke. Good News for People Who Love Bad News by Modest Mouse is the disjointed scream of my father's death. Taylor Swift's folklore, which will have its own edition of The Art Attic, was on constant loop during the pandemic.

In January, my husband combined all of my iTunes, Amazon Music, and CD collection onto a server so I can access all of the music I own, commercial free, anywhere. This is the greatest gift ever. Ever. While scrolling through the catalog (I have over 12 DAYS of music), I encountered a familiar friend — The Killers.

The Killers put out Hot Fuss in 2004 and had immediate success with their smash singles "Somebody Told Me" and "Mr. Brightside." While they never had huge songs like that again, it's not because they weren't putting out radio-friendly bops. In fact, their album of B-sides — Sawdust — is one of my favorites.

Why am I still madly in love with these albums two decades? No idea. On paper, they aren't my thing. I'm not big on the sound of synth. I'm big on lyrics, though none of the songs on Hot Fuss or Sawdust are going to move you to tears or be quoted at a wedding. I have no clue what drew me to pop-friendly indie rock band, but twenty years later, I can tell you the The Killers is the soundtrack of road trips. Of being out late and freshly not having a curfew. Of walking across campus to my boyfriend's apartment. Of weekends dance-cleaning my new house with my new husband. The Killers makes me nostalgic for everything that was good and free and lively about my 20s, arguably the most difficult decade of my life.

I started The Art Attic, because I think examining why I love the art I love would shed light into my inspirations and artistic goals. So far, it has. It's been incredibly helpful to mull over these things and pull out different lessons from artists with many more hours under their belts than me. But I wanted to write about The Killers because it's okay to not know. Sometimes, that long love can turn into something that you can describe, but sometimes it won't. It's okay to just enjoy something.