She dragooned her brother, Matthew, a talented chef, into catering this unruly affair, let us rig up her beloved Dodge Challenger, the "Black Shark," and drove us around town.She liquored us up on fine tequila, made sure that I, and every member of my crew had an awesome time in Nashville, and that we would, all of us, wake up with unexplained bruises and Mosshart-designed tattoos.We feel so fortunate for the time we have shared and the time we will continue to spend both separately and together watching our children grow.In honor of that time shared, we are throwing a divorce party. Kudos to them, though, if they can actually pull off the "happy apart" thing.She single-handedly wrangled, coerced, cajoled and organized appearances by both The Kills and The Dead Weather on our show -- a logistical feat on par with the invasion of Normandy.She opened her Nashville home, "Disgraceland," to us, our crew and an army of invited guests.“I’m just wrapping up a tour with The Kills and then I’ll be back with The Dead Weather for the release of the album and a tour.
To be honest, so much about that weekend was a blur, but still I vividly remember how watching Mosshart scream into a telephone while playing guitar made me feel so alive and whole.
Fast-forward eight years, and I'm sitting in the dimly lit lobby of the Bowery Hotel chatting with Mosshart, who, as I imagined her to be, is as badass and brilliant one-on-one as she is on her LPs.
A few hours before the Kills were set to play the second night of two back-to-back sold-out shows in Brooklyn, she took the time to speak with me about her first band, how she met her bandmate Jamie Hince, and why Dianca Potts: What did you want to be when you were a kid?
As half of one of London’s most celebrated punk-rock alt bands (complete with fashion street cred and a supermodel groupie in the form of Hince’s lady friend), Mosshart has her hardcore stage persona down. Sometimes we sit together and jam things out—but we’re both equally controlling and equally secretive. The music enters this public realm, whereas before it was private. You don’t even know how you’re going to react to playing it. BLASBERG: So you never thought your song “Sour Cherry” would become a promo? It’s a totally different group of people who read tabloid magazines compared to hardcore music fans and people who go to gigs. Three tons of black metal vanished into thin air, with all of our things in it. Well, the manhunt was called off when the bus—but not the driver—was found behind a Best Western in L. by our friend Lalo Medina, who kept me abreast, minute by minute, like an episode of , as 10 armed policemen and a helicopter arrived on the scene and entered the bus. MOSSHART: Lalo, the coolest dude alive, very nicely packed it up and sent it to us.
For this interview at The Mercer hotel in New York last December, she arrives with bangs covering her face and a cigarette hanging from her lips. So we’ll work separately, even in the same room, where we can see but not hear each other. [Tabloid readers] work in offices or something and probably don’t have a real connection to the arts. MOSSHART: We get along great, despite people making up stories that we don’t. BLASBERG: So she’s not some skank who stole your style? The weird part was that all of the driver’s things were on the bus, too—his jacket still on the back of the seat and the keys still in the ignition. BLASBERG: You’ve obviously reached them, because I’m here! It would be nice if we were though, just for a minute, so we could pay off this house and be free. We just did this collaboration with Yves Saint Laurent, for a fragrance.