So I played Camden Crawl last night, yo. It was pretty rah. Pritty, pritty rah. Apparently my managers were concerned that I was too drunk, and one of them tried to sober me up with pizza prior to the show, but the pizza had so much chili in it my nose nearly imploded and I thought I might never rap again. Ho ho.
But, yeah, rah. I did a bunch of interviews in the afternoon, had some civilised wine drinking up Primrose Hill, and ran into loads of my peoples whom I haven’t seen in a while, like Guy 80s Matchbox and Evil Lorry and Barry The Tramp and Lilly, and drank lots of nice whiskey. And argued with my bank, who decided for no good reason to remove my overdraft. Assholes.
Lethal B was on before us, and he was fucking ace. Dude is mad loud. Him and Ozzy B did ‘Oi!’, that was highlight. I like his Rakes remix, but I;m not sure about that tune he’s done with Babyshambles. This grindie thing is seeming a bit long and gimmicky already. (Says me leading the britop revival).
Anyway, we nearly had a major disaster, as my stupid keyboard decided to spaz out and not work just before we went on, but then it, did, and we played, and were amazing, and you lot who came were amazing, and Why Lout? came on and did ‘Boom’… and were amazing, and then I wrote on bits of paper and arms and got called amazing and shit and span out a bit, while Supergrass played ‘Caught By The Fuzz’, and all their other records that weren’t as good as ‘Caught By The Fuzz’, and people tried to get me to get them cocaine for “Jude Law’s ex” in return for an invite to their Primrose Hill party, and I really must be lame, because I didn’t have anything to do with it. What I must have missed out on! I so always wanted to bum Danny Goffey!
Jokes. Supergrass had to borrow Jeres’ leads, which was a weird turn around, and Rhys Ifans chatted Mary up, and after all that Martin went home with my stuff cos he’s a gent and a grown up, and this dude who’s been myspacing me told me he thought I was gonna be “hench”, and was in fact “a munchkin” which is true, and two of my little brother Ali’s mates turned up, expressing shock at the recent acquisition by little brother Zef of a lady, and I chatted to lots of safe people many of whom had come from all over the country to see me specially, which was good of them, and we went to some parties, and I lost Jeres and Trey and Mary, and caused trouble with Leonie and got really drunk. When we got to the weird Vippey upstars room in Coco Wade was DJing – first song we hear is Elastica’s Connection, which is more of that collective consciousness serendippyness, and Leonie knocked a pint all over the mixing desk, which blew it up. Transpires the pint glass was full of Wade’s piss. CLASS!!! Wade then played the music from Requiem For A Dream, and everybody went really weird, fled the dancefloor, and some bouncer lady got hardcore lunatic and booted us all out. I have no idea why.
A little while later I found myself on a balcony with various Towers Of Londons and Libertines and some other indie people whose records I have avoided. For some reason I slapped Carl Barrat and headbutted Donny Tourette. It was affectionate, though. Leonie stole fags, cos Leonie’s gangsta. It should be noted, nobody who goes to Coco can dance. This is a fact. Every time I’ve been there, since it rebranded, and became NMEland, noone can dace. They swarm, they shuffle, but they cannot dance for shit, it is mega weird.
I tasted of Camden when I woke up this morning. And do you know, when I got home, at 6am, I was really upset. Really! And for what reason? No good reason at all! Drink is very bad, kids. I am not going to have any more, until about 9pm tonight. I am going to see Marv The Marsh at The Purple Turtle. Oh shit! Camden two nights in a row!