What’s My Name Again?
“Hi my name is Roman. I am an angry bitch. Lock me up like a dungeon dragon. Rah Rah! I’m Nicki’s gay friend. One thing you should know. Don’t mess with me, I got them haters shook, panicking.”
“Hi my name is Martha Zolanski. I’m Roman’s mother. Oh just hang on one moment. Roman, Roman! Stop it, Stop it you’ve gone mad, mad I tell you! Back to bed, run along. Lets go. Come on.”
“Hi my name is Barbie. I’m sweet, I’m innocent and I’m a little girl. What more could you possibly want to know?”
“Hi my name is Nicki Minaj. I think I left the psychiatric ward too soon.”
Is This the Way Forward?
“We’re so cool, we can do everything by ourselves”. I’m talking about World Unite Lucifer Youth Foundation, or rather Wu Lyf. So they are a band of many mysteries. Look back to 2008 and getting an interview was nigh-on impossible. They were rumoured to be amazing, but it seemed that they were evading all the critics.
Back in said year, an NME scout called and asked them where they were going to play and when. Wu Lyf replied “Nine pm.” He arrived on time and ready to go, only to find that the group had finished their set at eight-thirty. What a bunch of plebs. But it seems their plan has worked.
Wu Lyf are everywhere and everyone’s talking about them. Could this be the way forward in the music industry? Avoid the media and the fame will come? Seems we have found ourselves a winner.
It’s hard to see where I’m going. Looking up hurts. Moving hurts.
The sun is surprisingly hot for this time of year. It’s burning through what little layers of clothing I have on, and leaving trails of sweat pouring down my back in pools of lava. Today the streets of London are my enemy. The end seems nowhere in sight. It’s been hours since I left Shoreditch on the quest to find Vyner Street.
Every side road I pass holds that unspoken promise of salvation. My fellow chum forges ahead, undeterred from the obstacles thrown in our path, until finally the words “Vyner Street” loom up ahead like a golden beacon. Trudging with glee, tears streaking my cheek, I glance around the deserted, shuttered buildings.
Not a soul in sight.
Head hung low, I turn to face my friend. We must fight our enemy once again.