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Life, Music

So I was asked to chair a panel event a couple of months ago, which was terrifying but also awesome. It was in Waterstones Piccadilly and it was on the subject of identity in literature. On the panel were three pretty awesome authors: Vu Tran, Leye Adenle and Frances Mensah Williams.

But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.

So K. Wizzle performed an eclectic headline set at Glastonbury and may have said he was the world’s greatest living rockstar or whatever. I mean, that’s no big deal though, is it really? Kanye’s likened himself to, like, God. Like, the Messiah. The Head Honcho. The Big Cheese. Saying he’s the world’s greatest living rockstar shouldn’t be nearly controversial enough to tweet about.

I don’t disagree; I think everyone should believe in themselves as much as Kanye does. What a world it would be. Some might call him a narcissist, I call him, incredibly woke. He thinks Beyonce had the greatest video ever? He’s gonna tell you. He thinks the Grammy’s are being whitewashed? You’re gonna hear about it.

On Kanye West

Music, Opinion

On Chet Faker

Music, Reviews

A quick google image search of Chet Faker will tell you everything you need to know about him, superficially I mean. Not that he’d fit right in Brixton village, but that he is essentially, unequivocally, my type. I guess it goes without saying, but I’m gonna say it: Australian? check. Bearded? Check. That’s all. That’s all my criteria. Mr. Faker first massaged his way through my ear canals and into my heart when he burst on the scene with a slick, dulcet cover of No Diggity by Blackstreet. Now, he’s not the first guy to cover this song, but he smashed it.