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A few weeks later, I email Mosshart to ask how the tour is going. “So far, so good,” she writes back from London. “Ask me in a few more weeks. Halfway through the American tour I’ll have some kind of answer.” But back at the Mondrian, in front of a live crowd for the first time in nine months, she’ll give a performance so grittily sexy it would make Mick Jagger blush. Mosshart compares the sensation of playing shows to drugs, a rush of adrenaline so powerful you crave it again instantly. The Kills’ music sounds like it was written to be performed—and that’s what they do best. “It’s weird when you find those things in your life that you just feel totally at home with, and it’s funny that it only lasts an hour and then you’re in search of it again. It’s like, Oh no, how am I going to feel like this again?”

 The Kills Turn Up the Volume on Blood Pressures

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