SPOKE EXCLUSIVE: Interview with The Knocks
Warning: Sadly, everything in this interview is true.
After a semi-memorable performance, I decided to find the Knocks. I knew they were just famous enough to make me seem cooler, but still lame enough to probably want to hang out with a college student. Their status was validated mid-set when The Knocks mentioned, “Yo where the after party at? Who got some joints and beer?” They also confirmed their Yik Yak presence by yelling “Shout out to Emory M’s” unable to recognize that EMS is an acronym.
In the style of every groupie movie ever, I went straight for the tour bus. There I met a young frat boy, high as a kite who claimed “It’s O.K. I work for The Wheel.” We successfully broke into the tour bus – by that, I mean, we opened the door and walked on. An old man appeared from the abyss in a cloud of opium smoke and said “Nah, this is the crew bus. Try the green room.”
My new acquaintance and I left the bus and overcame the barricades blocking Few and the treasures which were inside. With all our strength we moved a single small gate. Knocking on the door, a security guard answered. “Hi, we’re here for the Emory press post show interview with The Knocks.” She closed the door. The Wheel writer was determined to break in, I told him to chill. We were let in after the security guard verified with her team that we had a contract with the Knocks. No such contract existed, but maybe contract has a different meaning in the world of college DJs.
I went into a room filled with mildly attractive men in their late 20s wearing sideways-slanted black hats. I had no idea which guys were The Knocks. They introduced themselves and I sat across from them. In true journalistic fashion, I had nothing to write their responses down with, and as is tradition with The Spoke, I was slightly intoxicated.
Ben “B-Roc” Ruttner and James “JPatt” Patterson were everything you would expect two 29 year old electronic music DJs to be: aforementioned sideways hat, black thick rimmed glasses, and horribly wonderful. I confirmed my “cool” by telling them I saw them perform at a festival in NYC a few years back.
The duo met in college and then dropped out of college to pursue a career on Broadway. When this flopped they turned to DJing and somehow got famous off of it. They told me to “fuck college.”
Patterson and Ruttner also kept telling me they wanted to go to the “hood” and “party in ATL”. They asked where the cute honeys were at. I suggested not going to any dangerous neighborhoods since they were unfamiliar with the parts, and recommended the illustrious Clermont Lounge, and Margaret’s Neighborhood Bar and Grill. Having gotten all the information on them I could, I bid them adieu.
Hours later, I saw them at Mags sitting on the side observing. Those famous bastards slipped Rick a crisp $20 and still had to wait on line. As I went to say hello, one of the crew members asked me, “You don’t really write for anything do you? You’re just this bad ass rebel chick who snuck in.” I replied, “I am a bad-ass chick; however I do write for the most reliable news source in the greater Atlanta area.” He said, “Make us look good.” To which I replied, “Eh.”