Why do you think ‘Mr. Brightside’ is the anthem of our generation for men?” “The guitar riff.” “WRONG,” he shouts, putting the cigarette in his mouth. He stands up and walks outside as I follow him. “Jealousy,” he barks over his shoulder to me. “Turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies. That song hits on something we can never articulate, which is that romantic jealousy is a turn-on, in its own dark way.”
