Lady Sovereign Like a British Punky Brewster! Except less relevant. perou

INSTEAD OF INTERVIEWING Lady Sovereign, I interviewed my friend Tom over a few rum drinks. Here's what Tom and I had to say:

Tom: Did you ever do that Lady Sovereign interview? How did it go?

Salina: Dude, I thought that it was all good, and that I'd go ahead and get the interview. I realized that it was more of an ethical dilemma than I had assumed. After listening to a few of the new tracks from the Public Warning album, I was like what is this? It's like, she's a Mini Me Missy Elliott, complete with Adidas sponsorship, hopping around making these fucked-up faces. Like this. [Salina, with aforementioned rum drink, gets up from her seat and does the worst hiphop-esque dance move, while making monster faces and rhyming with a British accent about hoodies and shepherd's pie.]

So what you're telling me is that she's like all of the Spice Girls rolled into one? You know, I might be into it—I like the Streets and Dizzee Rascal, is it like that?

Well, kind of, but let me finish. See, I couldn't really get myself to WANT to line up the 10 minutes that her rep was going to sling my way. I couldn't think of any questions that she might be able to answer coherently and thoughtfully in 10 minutes. Like, "Do you believe that your music is going to contribute to the homogenization of British dancehall/grime culture?" or, "In the grand scheme of things, while world leaders are wrestling over nuclear bombs, how important are you really?" It's like, I don't even want to go there.

Who knows? She could have given you some pretty funny quotes. You could have just asked her a bunch of twisted questions and made fun of her in your article.

See, that's where the ethical part comes in. I wouldn't feel right about setting a person up to look like a prefabricated (albeit by Jay-Z) pop sensation. And generally, my intention is never to set people up to suck—if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck....

Then, it's probably Lady Sovereign.

Totally! It's just difficult for me to take her seriously. There's this track, "Love Me or Hate Me," where, in a growly 19-year-old voice, she's trying to threaten haters with her rhyming abilities. It's like, you're wearing a pigtail on the side of your head—you're a British Punky Brewster! I will admit though, that "Hoodie" song is pretty contagious. [Salina proceeds with rum drinking and "puts on her dancing shoes."]