"Do you know when you'll be speaking to the band?" a message pops up. "I wanted to ask if I can join as their fourth member."
There's just a single issue: The author likewise wants to be the Haims' additional sibling. What's more, we are far from alone. Multiple high-profile supporters have publicly petitioned for the honor.
The evidence suggests something is going on. The siblings Este, Danielle and Alana began their career doing sets at neighborhood delis with their parents. Now they're multi-time Grammy hopefuls.
Similar to the greatest ensembles, they're a close trio. Their music videos frequently show them marching in unison down the roads of Los Angeles. In concert, they jam with such pure exuberance you inevitably think, "I want to be involved in that, too."
"The amount of times on tour that audience members told us and said, 'Seeing you perform, I bought a guitar'," states Alana, the most junior of the Haim siblings. "That's the greatest compliment. That is recognition in itself. We have succeeded if we can encourage others to form a group."
"And thus anyone gets an invitation to be the next member of Haim."
The band are connecting from a break, where they're resting up after an major tour in promoting their latest album, I Quit.
They're right now reeling from the news it's been in the running for best rock album at the Grammy Awards โ with Haim the pioneering all-woman band ever in the running for the award.
"I tune into the nominations every year, so it sort of feels like a surreal movie when your name is read out," explains Alana. "I immediately called my sisters to say, 'Did I hear this right or am I imagining things'?"
The weight of the accolade isn't lost on the trio.
"We truly set out to make a rock record this time, so it's a major milestone," adds Alana. "But we're just appreciative for the women that came before us."
The project emerged from a time of emotional upheaval. All three sisters were single, and the music inhabits that odd liminal space where you're glad to be free, but not entirely ready to start anew.
The lyrics detail breakups and farewells. The sisters want love, but not the specific love they've got. You can hear them figuring out in real time who they aspire to be.
"I adore description, yes," agrees Danielle. "I Quit is kind of like a slogan. You have to consciously practice ignoring the noise and saying, 'I couldn't care less what people think'."
That recent toughness required a new sound โ more unpolished and direct than anything the band had done before.
For Danielle, who co-produced the album, that was founded on the percussion.
"Percussion is such a detailed thing, and I am so passionate about it," she emphasizes.
"'Journey of the drum sound' will be the title of our memoir," laughs Alana. "Our motto is, our albums won't commence until we find the right drum sound."
The trio's candor shaped the album's rollout, where the sisters revealed some of their romantic misadventures.
One man ended things with Este over a health consideration. Alana recalled a story of travelling to spend New Year's Eve with someone, only to receive a friendly slap at midnight.
"When you're going through these setbacks, you just feel like there's no light," explains Alana. "So to be able to laugh at those stories and have them tell you wilder stories, it's so amazing."
One can easily sense a shift in the band. Now, Haim are more confident of their position in the industry.
They're top-billed acts, with hit albums and an international fan base.
Yet the sister act will consistently be their top focus.
"Me and my siblings have been making music since I was little," shares Alana. "There is nothing else that we were supposed to do. And I'm really grateful we've gotten here and we're still kicking."
Rashid Al-Mansoori is a tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering innovations and digital transformations in the Middle East.
