Public rows almost eclipsed her music, but with her debut album finally out, Azealia Banks says shes happy now. (Although shed still like to punch the small guy in Disclosure)
The first thing you notice about Azealia Banks apart from her striking outfit: black biker jacket, micro-skirt, tights with holes at the top of her thighs and vertiginous heels is that she is glowing. She looks happy. The last time we met, in late 2011, just as her extraordinary single 212 was establishing her brand of verbally dextrous (and expletive-rich) future rap/house/pop, she seemed glum. Then, when she talked about her tough upbringing her father died when she was two and her mother was abusive she started to cry.
This time, at a hotel in central London, where she has come to promote her debut album, there are no tears. Only once does she waver, when she mentions her improved relationship with her mother (Were so close right now, she beams). Throughout the rest of the two-hour interview she is fit to burst, with a torrent of ideas to match her flow. Reckless and rude, she is hilarious company.
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