From cutesy bubble pop to manicured dirty indie: The Hacks discuss what pushed them to make the shift and how they navigated their way out of the big machine by Riley Reynolds It’s an early afternoon on a sunny Saturday. Summer in LA is hitting hard, relieved only by the Santa Monica sea breeze that occasionally hits the outdoor table where I’m sat waiting for the last of the Hackley siblings — Tyler is thirty minutes late. I can tell this is standard behavior by how the oldest brother and band’s guitarist Todd jokes about the lead singer operating by his own timezone. I can also tell Tristan, the youngest drummer to play in a commercial record ever, doesn’t find it funny at all as he fumbles with a thousand and one wristbands that almost completely cover his right forearm. His shaggy hair and beachy outfit are a stark contrast to his brother’s formal button-down shirt and dress pants. At first glance, you wouldn’t say they’re in a band together. But when the missing brother finally arrives — in a black leather jacket and long hair tied in a low ponytail — they strangely make sense as a unit. “Traffic at 405 is always a nightmare. I hate this city,” Tyler declares as he sits down in-between his brothers, still clutching a cup of coffee. Todd laughs while Tristan rolls his eyes at me — and here you have the entire band’s dynamic in a nutshell. Notice: JavaScript is required for this content.
You know that thing that happens when you start to clean your room and then stop in the middle of it when you find something amusing that distracts you? Welp, turns out that when you’re packing everything you own, you find a lot more amusing things than when you’re just cleaning. Which means you stop a lot more often. And the whole ordeal takes a lot more time than it should. Notice: JavaScript is required for this content.
“Mermaids?” “Mermaids.” “Mermaids?” she repeats with a different inflection. “Mermaids,” I mimic her accent. “Why?” “Why not?” I chuckle. “I was browsing online to see if I could find something to pull me out of this slump, and look…” Notice: JavaScript is required for this content.
THE END OF LUCKY CHARMS?March 31, 2047 It’s official: the four-leaf clover you’ve been carrying around inside your wallet is useless — but your genes might not be. By now, you’ve certainly heard of Aurora Zeinallah. Eighteen months ago, the Sudanese scientist put her small town on the map when she came on the record about a curious study — the genetic traits of luck. With an already large pool of volunteers, Zeinallah came to the public to invite people who might be interested in participating in her research and ask for funds. The unusual theme coupled with the Doctor’s impressive resume garnered a lot of attention from the media and some eccentric billionaires. The scientific community, however, laughed and turned their back on her. Apparently, though, she who laughs last, laughs the longest. Notice: JavaScript is required for this content.