On a sun baked evening in Camden, I join handfuls of young dilatorily-minded hipsters to catch the sexy duo of VV and Hotel, otherwise known as Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince, or, Kate Moss’ husbands band, or most probably, The Kills.
Something I immediately have in common with the double act are my time keeping skills. They meander onto stage 15 minutes late. Mosshart then meekly greets the boisterous and expectant crowd, and behind him a huge leopard skin print hangs from the ancient beams of the commodious Roundhouse. The crowd responds with a rapturous welcome, a bandwagon I can’t help but jump on.
This is the final night of their UK tour, and expectations are extremely high. The young, skinny, denim-wearing, long-fringed teenagers surge forwards with the opening track ‘No Way’. I hang back with the older crowd, with the couples, friends, middle-aged rockers, and enjoy the view of Mosshart’s sleek figure prowling the stage, encompassing Hince’s heavy and rigid stance on guitar. It has that stirring, filmic quality to it – the kind you remember years later in black and white, both members of the band continually enhanced with spotlights acrobatically and energetically worked by two stage hands.
The female portion of the crowd draw a curious semblance to Mosshart – she, quite the fetish in her skin tight black jeans, black stilettos, a nondescript black jumper hanging from her slight frame, and that messy black hair hiding warmer, gentler features – peers out relentlessly to take the cue from Hince. The soon to be husband of Kate Moss (this being the weekend of the stag-do) clearly has a trademark demeanor – thundering beats from the hammering of his guitar, legs apart, tousled hair, dry captivating features. To put it mildly, the man has the females in awe. Mosshart contradicts this with her menacing advances towards the crowd and flailing hair along with her golden-like voice – pitch perfect.
Bounding through songs from all four albums, the emphasis stays with scripts from their fourth album Blood Pressures. ‘Satellite’ has every member of the audience pulsating like grains of rice coming to the boil. And then, with cider in hand, I join the now thinning voyeurs at the rear and advance forward as Mosshart (and other attendees) booms into ‘U.R.A. Fever’. I seem to be one of a few to have noticed the trio of gospel choir singers, hiding behind the spotlight operators. One of them looks like Hince, but his timeless entry into slower and gravellier ‘Baby Says’ proves a tad more dramatic.
Suddenly, the lights go out, completely. Silence reigns, along with the stifled shuffles in the vestibule-like arena before Mosshart storms back onto stage wearing a honey-golden electric jacket, immediately commanding the attention of every open eye. The slower sounds of ‘Last Goodbye’ with Hince on keys – I am struggling to believe this is the same twosome – is enhanced with the use of the rarely heard, old fashioned mellotron, Mosshart’s voice hitting every rafter of the former railway engine shed.
And then it’s over. Like two fumbling art students, the pair leave the stage and behind them pools of sweaty teenagers, ringing ears, besotted couples and packs of Hince look-a-likes caressing the beer sodden bar. For those who came to dance, sweat, smile and raise their blood pressure, the duet surely did not disappoint.
Needless to say, the road outside was awash with rosy red cheeks, strained faces and slicked hair; chests visibly thumping with adrenaline each fan saunters off down Chalk Farm Road, humming the unmistakable riff’s from Hince’s guitar and highs of Mosshart’s voice.
Kills are playing at Reading Festival on 27th August, and Leeds Festival on 28th August.
