Four months later, when the time finally came to play the album for Atlantic, 100 gecs went all out, renting the venue Irving Plaza in Manhattan for the afternoon and rolling out a literal red carpet for the expectant suits. At an earsplitting volume befitting the album’s mosh-ready roar, “10,000 gecs” blared from an empty stage toward rows of seats, strobe lights flashing offbeat. Controlling the proceedings from above, Les and Brady headbanged in the balcony.
Ultimately pleased with the finished product, the label targeted a release date still another eight months away — enough time to press vinyl LPs and prepare a proper marketing rollout.
“We’re not scared of squandering anything,” Les said in December, as “10,000 gecs” became a palpable reality. “‘Oh, you had momentum’ — whatever.”
“The album wasn’t done, so,” Brady added, “what were we supposed to do?”
Time, it turned out, had been the ultimate luxury. Making harebrained music on their computers was one thing, befitting the lives of long-distance friends with day jobs and managed expectations. But working through the right guitar tones, the perfect live drum sound and the best of 200 vocal takes was a new privilege.
“It’s not like I’m getting off work and having to do it in the evening,” Les, who moved to Los Angeles in 2020 to pursue 100 gecs full-time, said. “It’s much easier to make something when you’re not worried about paying rent.”
Still, the duo insisted that their own expectations were more modest than those of their biggest boosters: release the album, start another, “do the tour, maybe sell some T-shirts,” Brady said.
