Faris Rotter of The Horrors

The scene at the Echo in Los Angeles is very relaxed. But who cares about the Echo or its scene; nothing extraordinaire happened there accept that I was crushed to the floor by an overweight fan girl. A fan girl that is so delusional about her own identity that she would take the deepest offense to being called a fan girl. I, on the other hand, am so deeply disillusioned that I am deeply offended that she would not trust my judgment and ability to assess the situation. She had decided during the final song to join the band on the stage and then leap off. A stupid thing, she told me the following night, she did to earn respect from a androgynous and hideous man with two bottom lip piercings. “He said, dive and I will have mad respect for you,” she recounted.

Very Relaxed Atmosphere: Faris Rotter eats a Banana on stage @ the Echo

I am WAAAAY too close: Lead guitarist Joshua The Third
Lying dazed on the floor, the singer insisted that someone help me up. Luckily, the handsome and dashing Tim was there to rescue me. He pulled me up but my hair was caught under someone’s feet. I have no recollection of the pain or the thud of my head hitting the floor. I do remember the asshole in front of me not giving my place back and that Tim had disappeared too soon after the show for me to exchange contact information. My heart sinks.

On Tuesday came the experience. The fan girl and her sister were waiting for me at the top of the stairs. They were 17 and 19 already inside a 21 and over night club. We were already best of friends (accept for the part where I didn’t want to be friends). The fan girl had a cast on her arm from the night before at the Echo. My judgment here was that she sprained it jumping on me. She didn’t want to give me the satisfaction that she had gotten what she deserved and imagined that it probably happened sometime earlier in the night. I am so nice. I nodded politely and listened to her and her sister’s stories of punching people at a Futurehead’s concert and telling stupid bitches to shut the heck up. Her sister, the 17 year old, had less crazy stories, but she’s still young.

Ewa and me Drunk

The doors to the club weren’t open yet. I was there two hours early to merch out the venue, which means decoratively placing posters and magazines around the club. Who knows what time the two girls had shown up but they asked if I could tell the bouncer they were with me. Risk my job? Uh..no. However, I did show them where to stand inside the club where the bouncer would forget about them. The guy with two lip piercings was already in front of the stage.

I wanted to meet the band. I have met many bands and I love seeing their many personalities. Will this one be different? Will this one be cool? Will this one turn out to be a scientologist? Who knows - it’s Hollywood. My bad journalistic habits caused me to intensely research them before meeting and I even had questions prepared. Of The Horrors, Faris is the tallest member and could be the tallest front man in history at 6’ 6’’ and loves to draw bats. He is taking Hiatus from his art school, which he believes is all about the product and not about what people wear. He is Palestinian and his father is a Doctor. Spider Webb’s real name is Rhys and he is the spokesperson for the band. He was a club promoter in South end, England for a night club he started called Junk and goes to Fashion school. Coffin Joe is the drummer and his nick name (of his nick name) is coffin’ and wheezing Joe (did you catch the apostrophe?) because he is always getting sick. He recently had bronchitis and they had to cancel a show or two. He is the shortest member of the band and thinnest.

Joshua von Grimm is the lead guitarist with the shock treatment hair. His hair has garnered a lot of attention for the band including the cover of Italian Vogue. He has a Degree in Physics, knowledge he uses to make his own guitar effects pedals. When asked by New Musical Express how he gets his hair like that he said, “we sleep upside down.” He’s the funny one. Tomethy Furse is the bassist and incredibly…, well, not sure. Some say shy, others moody, maybe snooty? I’d rather not assume things if I can help it. He was going to school for graphic design but hates it. Now that the band thing is taking off class just doesn’t make sense to him anymore.

From the outside, all these facts that I have accumulated give the shape of something tangible and of people relatable. If I were in a band taking off I wouldn’t understand why “Humanities 101” was important. I too, doodle bats on paper note pads, and on this very night I am promoting around the club.

It was ten minutes to nine and my friend Ewa and I stood in the lounge. We had left the backroom to use the restroom and now we were being told by security that no one could get inside except the bands and their managers. Once sound check was over (and four cranberry and vodkas later) the bouncer let us back in. We swaggered over to the private room the band was sitting in. Low and behold, the fan girl and her sister and even the piercings guy were sitting at their table chatting it up. The fan girls arms moved in big circles rapidly reenacting what looked like her “and I punched the girl in her face,” story. I knocked on the glass door and waved politely. She and her sister looked up at us for a second then returned to their story. They are not nice. What’s the exact opposite of nice? Awe yes, bitches.

Ewa and I staggered once more back to the bar for some more cranberry and vodkas. We were getting quite drunk. A few blurry moments later and the band breezed passed us to the smoking section. It was as good a time as any to approach them. My questions and research were of no use to me now. I asked the casual questions like “do you remember me? I’m the girl that got squashed at your show last night.” Joe did remember me or he was being very polite. He made good eye contact, stood with great posture and was without a drink. I , however, made it known several times that I had a drink and boy was I ever drunk. At one point I began talking in a British accent. Lord knows what they made of me. Who knows, my accent, or so I’ve been told, is dead on - they may have thought I was from England. I got my picture with Joe and Joshua Von Grimm. Joshua, also without a drink, made a disgusting face for my photo with him. Although, with my dodgy accent and “I love you guys” slurrings, I probably deserved it. Spider Webb was caught in a trap between fan girl and her sister. I stood behind his right shoulder. The fan girl was going on and on about passport trouble she had in England and Rhys was politely nodding. “Really? You don’t say.” He repeatedly quipped in his delightful accent. I, on the other hand, was not being polite nor delightful. I began to interject sarcastic jeers. “Noooo! Really? Shut Up! Get out of here.” Ewa was laughing and the girls never acknowledged me.

Drink number....um...Four? And yes, there is totally a thumbs up cut off of this picture.

Joshua Von Grimm - putting up with my drunkeness

The fan girl turned to her sister disputing some remedial fact. Like electricity cursing through his body, Spider’s instincts shot up through the expression on his face. A break in the conversation. A distraction. Now was the time. He turned and dashed away. The two girls were still squabbling as Rhys’ smoke cleared.

Spider Wrbb is quite theatrical at the Echo and later he vanishes in mid-conversation!!!

Their live show sounds like a double entendre. They come fast, go for twenty minutes, and, sorry ladies, no encores. I am still not sure what is sexually appealing about a guy who can only go twenty minutes and wears a smaller pant size. Maybe it’s teh energy and the motion in the …um, moshpit, that counts. Girls locked arms and fought to keep their positions in the front row. The tall Faris Rotter look-a-likes were being molested by horny fan girls and everyone was being raped from behind as people lunged over one another’s heads to touch the singer. A longer then twenty minute set and my legs would have needed to be amputated. I remember at the Echo, Tim screaming for them to play “Little Victories,” to which Faris replied “I’ll have to discuss that with the band.” He never did and they never played it. They didn’t play it tonight either and the set list was the same as the night before. Doesn’t a girl get tired of the same routine every night? Again with the double entendres.

Still, the exceedingly tall singer with his hair styled to give him a few extra inches (now nearly 7 feet tall) loomed over the grappling audience like a Pentecostal preacher. The hands reached his fifties inspired black and white cardigan sweater while he touched their foreheads as if giving his blessing. In this instance rock and roll and the Holy Spirit were teh same thing. The girls and boys received Faris’ energy and screamed their version of Hallelujah, which is “Jack the Ripper!” Tomethey was almost lost in the background due to the erratic dancing and herky-jerkyings of Joshua, Faris and Spider. Even when I had approached Tomethy earlier that night he was quiet and reserved. Shy? Moody? Snooty? Tired? Boring? I could not read him.

A quiet Tomethy

Spider Webb being Dramatic @ Cinespace

Coffin Joe @ Cinespace

Faris @ Cinespace

Party Puppet!!!
I never got to talk to Faris. He had shown up for the show about ten minutes before they went on. He had gone to see Bloc Party at the Wiltern. In turn Bloc Party came to the Horrors show along with VietNam, the Klaxons, the Bravery and a list of other who’s who of the indie music scene. There was also a puppet that was getting some major action from drunk girls including Ewa and myself, who made out with it in between band sets.

The experience ended outside the club with Matt, the drummer for Bloc Party being denied access. The bouncer told him the doors were closed and that he didn’t know what this “Bloc Party” was. We stopped and talked to him for a bit. He was very sweet and took a picture with us. After a night of feeling like ants among giant rock stars it felt weird that Matt was being denied access to his own after party. But I suppose you can’t be a big rockstar all the time. Matt left to find another club to hang out in. We made it to a Pizza Hut for breadsticks to soak up the alcohol.

Matt from Bloc Party