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National Features >
Houston Press
What mainstream publishers don't want you to know about door-to-door magazine sales.
By Craig Malisow
Riverfront Times
When these huntresses on are on the prowl, the prey very much wants to be caught.
By Unreal
Broward-Palm Beach New Times
How rumored McCain veep choice Charlie Crist wants to bail out Big Sugar.
By Bob Norman
SF Weekly
Are Asian women getting their jawbones cut to look whiter?
By Lauren Smiley
Duran Duran: Red Carpet Massacre
Published on December 13, 2007
Sorry, '80s nostalgists, but Duran Duran was never a great band, or even a particularly good one. The boys from Birmingham gained fame as sleek, sleazy showmen with a strong visual sense and the ability to transform other people's ideas into garish pop ready-mades. "Girls on Film," "Hungry Like the Wolf" and "Notorious"? Stupid as hell, but hilariously so. Pretty much everything else? Ditto the stupid part, nix on the hilarity. This last formula applies to most of Massacre, their glittery attempt at a stylistic reboot. Timbaland and protégé Nate "Danja" Hills impose their sound on the likes of "Nite-Runner" and "Falling Down," which overtly recall recent Justin Timberlake recordings — appropriate, since Timberlake turns up too. "Skin Divers" represents the approach's nadir thanks to an incongruous Timbaland rap, Casiotone and Space Invader sound effects and allegedly racy lyrics about "sugar walls." (Sheena Easton is gonna be pissed.) "Zoom In" and "She's Too Much" are less objectionable, but also less memorable, since the main group they rip off is Duran Duran. These guys usually have better taste.