Fader time?
I don’t know what fader time is. I don’t really care, either. All I know is it just saved me from eternal self-loathing and loss of journalistic integrity.
I was supposed to interview the Kills at eleven this morning. I fucking love them. I fought for this interview. Kinda. I didn’t have any competition, but I made it clear that I would fight for it if need be.
At 10:57 my espressos finally kicked in and I ran screaming to my editor, who had also apparently forgotten. He called the PR lady who set this whole thing up, and—
it’s at eleven FADER TIME. AKA noon. Maybe fader time means the next time zone over. That would make sense. Maybe it means rock-stars-tend-to-be-faded-and-operate-behind-schedule. One thing is clear, though: I have fifty-seven minutes to collect myself and organize my thoughts before talking to (in my opinion) the greatest rock duo of the new millenium. —AG
