Principal (feat. Janet Jackson)

The voice is like an entrance checklist: its own rules, its own quibbles, and not a shred of pity for those who don't fit in.

Here, irony wears pins, and confidence is like a well-stitched raincoat from the street: stuffy, but warm.

Love turns into a deal with the condition ‘no sharing’ - friends and food are off limits, and jealousy sounds almost like a joke.

Each verse is a lively manoeuvre: if you're not on the same wavelength, just change lanes and move on.

It all smells of the night city, exoticism and fast food between whispers and laughter - too cool to bother with cheap drama.