you're immediately struck by not only their
sweet sisterly harmonies, but their kinetic –
and personally unique -- physical energy,
which seems to pass from one to the other
like welding sparks. It starts with Alana,
swiveling to monitor her various keyboards,
percussion, and six-strings ("Este, Danielle,
and Dash call me Merlin, because I literally
have the craziest station and I switch off so
many instruments," she chortles). Then it
passes to Danielle at center stage, undulating
like a python with the sinuous R&B-based
rhythms she's chording, and ultimately ends
with the rigid-spined Este, who throws her
entire body into every last note, her eyes often
shut, her features passionately contorting
with each emotional lyric. They play together,
alright.
"And touring is a breeze," Alana would
like it to be known. "A lot of people think that
I'm lying, and behind closed doors we're
weirdly Oasis and we each have different
tour vans. A lot of people seriously think that
that's what the vibe is like, and it's not. We
love each other. I love my sisters more than
anything in the world." She thinks about it,
decides to up the ante. "I would die for them.
I would take a bullet for both my sisters and
Dash – Dash is in there, too. We're just the
biggest lovefest on tour, and we've been in a
band forever. And I feel like if something was
going to go wrong, it would've happened
during our awkward 13-year-old stages. It
would have happened by now, and it hasn't."
How close are these Los Angelenos
today? Put it this way, Alana says. In all their
lives, they've found maybe five other girls
that they can all hang out with, simultaneously. They prefer their own company instead. And they weren't going to let little
things like a club drinking age stop them.
"Este and Danielle would be like 'Take your
braces off! We're taking you out!'" she recalls.
"I'd get arrested if I tried that today – that shit
would not fly. And literally on my 16th birthday, they presented me with a fake ID and
said 'Welcome to a whole new world of your
life! This is a new chapter!' And from the time
I was 16, they took me to every single show at
The Echoplex, The Silver Lake Lounge, all
these places that were 21 and over. I'm so glad
I turned 21, because I must have ulcers now
from trying to get into clubs. Because I cannot lie. I literally cannot lie, and giving a big,
scary bouncer a fake ID is probably the scariest thing I've ever had to do. My hand would
have the ID out, but I would shake – you
could totally tell that I was not 21, and I think
my ID said that I was 27."
This presented something of a problem
when Haim began playing live at the same
sort of adult venues. Junior couldn't use her
fake ID because it featured a different last
name, and the marquee listed a sister act. "So
every single club would make me have my
own bouncer," she sighs, dejectedly. "Maybe
they thought that I would do something
crazy, like run away and down 50 beers. I
have no idea why I would need my own
bodyguard. But I would literally stand outside