Let me tell you a story

I’m sitting here in 88 Orchard, right next to Suz (we’re such dorks), and The Kills is playing. This is where I enter storytime:

Years ago, when I was a younger, much more impressionable, young lass, I was introduced to The Kills. This band is a two-piece comprised of Jamie Hince (a.k.a. “Hotel”, and Kate Moss’s boyfriend) and Alison Mosshart (a.k.a. “VV”). 2003 is when the love affair with them began, and I got the opportunity to see them a while later, when exactly I don’t remember, but I was under 21 because I remember having my fake ID taken away from me at the Bowery Ballroom. Anyway, at this point they were in my ever-rotating top five bands. For everyone who knows me, they understand my music geekdom and how important the bands are in my top five; to get a slot in there, you better be fucking great. To say I was excited to see them play is an understatement. I get to Bowery, have a beer, walk in to the main space and notice a bunch of people in one corner wearing Sony VIP press passes. That was weird because The Kills seemed so non-mainstream at this point. I’m going to cut this story short, but I walked out on the band after about 2 and a half songs, as I flicked them off. I was appalled at how terrible they were. Hince is a terrible guitarist, he knows maybe 4 power chords. Mosshart is a terrible singer with even worse stage presence, which was enhanced by her über-hipster hairstyle of having her bangs completely cover her face. Oh, and those drums in the back of their songs? Drum-machine. Which really isn’t a negative point generally, but this just adds to how shitty they were/are. Not to say I don’t fully enjoy their first two albums still, but they’ve been tarnished greatly.The best part about that night was that I got my ID back from the bouncer when I left.

Oh, and the other night when I was having dinner at Red Bamboo in the city, Mosshart was sitting at the table next to ours. And yes, she is as pasty and strange-looking in real life.

~Kiki