Kendrick Lamar

I adore Kendrick Lamar. He’s one of the very few musicians that I’ve fanboyed over (Thom Yorke and Pete Doherty being the others).

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Good Kid M.a.a.d City is one of my favourite albums ever, and number 1 in the hip hop stakes. When I first learnt to drive To Pimp A Butterfly was nearly ALWAYS in the CD player and Damn is getting the same treatment on the train now (I prefer the collectors edition which is the track listing in reverse). 

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When we found out we were having a kid, I wanted to call it Kendrick. Everyone I assumed I was joking. I wasn’t. My wife wouldn’t cooperate on the basis that a white, middle class family probably can’t get away with that. Anyway, we had a daughter, and I’ll begin the campaign for baby Lamar when the time is right.

I lucked out with these tickets. I’d wanted to go, but at over £75 for the cheapest tickets, I’d finally found my limit. 

at the Q Awards I met a chap, Rob Owen, who worked for Warner. We’d happened to both be at Ryan Adams the week before and we’re discussing people chatting through gigs and the pricing, which led to Kendrick Lamar. He mentioned their might be some spare tickets and to contact him nearer the time. By chance, our paths crossed a couple more times, and with nothing ventured, nothing gained. I dropped him an email a couple of weeks before. He said he’d see what he could do, and low and behold, the day of the gig he came up trumps.

The gig itself was a clinic of how to do a one man show. Where previously it was your more conventional show, with one of the best backing bands around. This was just him. With an audience who wanted to rap every word with him. Everyone wanted to be a part of it. The 5 star reviews in the press fully justified. The only ill judged move was a Kung fu fight with a backing dancer. 

unfortunately for my wife that gig only further cemented him as a legend.