Kanye has spawned a child giving her literal direction in name – carved an image and hatched to a vision of fame.
Manifesting as an extension of her father’s ego, so wherever they point the cameras that’s where we’ll go
we push our noses to the window and tweet from on the grapevine – the culture of celebrity has dispensed with the divine.
we offer them praise but scrutinise them for their flaws, we concede that we will never be them and yet ache for something more
we are empty. we are void.
Our conception of contentment has been distorted and destroyed.
so as long as there’s a stage and the little girl sings
we’ll watch her come apart with her waxy wings
like Will Smith’s kids who stand tall on family wealth,
the wind in Willow’s hair as she whips it back and forth,
we are promised a life in the spotlight of baby girl North.
we can think it likely that she will take to music
surrounded by connections, a captive audience and those hungry to capitalise..
The cracks can be painted over now that music is digitised
an auto-tuned lullaby lamenting the day the music died.
Rappers have a tendency to talk about their names
a customised title that speaks to character
both a badge and a facade that divides the person from persona.
A disguise known better than the person inside.
A broken mask and a blurred line.
she is a product, a brand and an opportunity.
she is stock, venture capital,
grabbing attention, gaining interest
nevertheless expect the debut solo: North by North West