01 Jul 2016
1st July, 2016
The request for the selfie could’ve been scripted, the timing was that good.
It was just after 4 p.m.—when tourists are out in full-swing despite the merciless rays of the late-afternoon sun, stretching their hands to fit the cement molds famous people left a lifetime ago and posing next to well-known names inscribed in the sidewalk—and Andrew Hozier-Byrne, a man known by the first of his two last names, was lingering at the corner of Hollywood and Vine, listening to a quartet of R&B singers do their thing. We had just been discussing anonymity and how he doesn’t feel as though he’s reached the point where street recognition is quite a thing yet. It happens in Dublin sometimes, in the precious instance where he finds himself at home, but he’s rarely stopped in New York or Los Angeles or the larger cities that frequently pepper his itinerary.
At that moment, a girl did a double-take, her eyes unblinking and widening as she surveyed the very tall guy with the tousled hair and shades who wasn’t a tourist but wasn’t an Angeleno, either. She timidly approached, asking if she could maybe take a selfie with him—"I saw you at Coachella last year!“—and his soft "Sure!” was immediate. Someone offered to take the photo; she left, beaming; he tipped the singers, and we made it until the end of the block before we were beaming, too, and shaking our heads. Not thirty seconds after we were discussing how easy it is for one of the fastest-rising musicians in the world to walk down a street anywhere, and he’s spotted—on the only street in Los Angeles where the pedestrian traffic dwarfs the cars on the street, at that—by a fan and poses for a picture. Ofcourse it happened in Hollywood. Hozier is absolutely at the point in his career where fans can identify his lanky frame and curls from a block away. He’s just the last person to tell you that. [Read full article here]