But there’s a workmanlike essence about the resultant show, which – lots of Auto-Tune heavy vocals and one random slap-bass solo notwithstanding – feels like little more than a glorified club PA. The LA singer-rapper-producer, when he eventually appears, swigging from a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, looks Instagram perfect in his shades and designer coat. P roudly admitting to having just woken on the tour bus after a Nando’s dinner, it takes Ty Dolla $ign’s bleary-eyed DJ Dre Sinatra all of a few seconds to extinguish hip-hop’s illusory glamour.
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