Kanye West – man, myth, legend? Performance artist? Piss taker? – is living in a stadium while he finishes his new album, because obviously he is. Not content with eschewing LA for his favoured Wyoming ranch (why am I picturing him sat around a grand dining table with horses dressed in dinner jackets?), Yeezy is residing in Atlanta’s Mercedes-Benz stadium as he puts the final touches to ‘DONDA’, his forthcoming record dedicated to his late mother. The venue is also just up the road from Morris Brown College, where she taught for almost 20 years. I’m not crying, you’re crying.
Kanye has been sharing his sleeping quarters with us (Yeezys in shot, of course) and we’ve gotta say, it doesn’t scream “billionaire artist”. As much as it might seem jazzy to live in a stadium, what would it actually be like? Better than your eight-person flatshare in east London? Don’t worry about imagining it, because I’ve done that for you.
We hope you like sweaty hotdogs and burgers that are double the size of what you actually need because that’s the order of the day here. Don’t worry though – they’ll only set you back £13 (card only). If you’re looking to switch it up and get some greens then pie, mash and mushy peas are your go-to. You may as well get ready to embrace scurvy and rickets while you’re in there. Entree for sir? Perhaps those nachos that you never see anybody buying, with the cheese that looks like grouting. Let’s be honest, I’m writing this like hotdogs, burgers and pies are a bad thing. I’d be happier than ever.
Mmmmm, taste that? That’s a flat pint, served in a paper cup. Carling for breakfast, lunch and dinner please! Truly the only beer they serve in hell – and of course, it will be warm. Is there something in the pipes of a massive venue that just takes the fizz out? Do the bubbles run out cos it spends ages getting to the tap? Perhaps you’ll find out during your stay. Once you have, why not wash it down with a £4 bottle of water and a blue Slush Puppie (although nobody over five drinks that shit and – hopefully – there are no five-year-olds in your stadium-house)?
It’s not gonna be great unless you enjoy sleeping in the stale scent of a megastar’s sweat – actually, when you put it like that I could probably set up camp in Harry Styles’ dressing room after a 14-day stint at The O2. It might be quite good practice for prison, though, e.g. for when you get arrested for stalking Harry Styles. On the plus side, you can hit up the merch stand for some extremely cheap but cosy pyjamas that probably say something like “FEMINISM IS NOW” for no real reason, next to a band that consists of six white guys with guitars.
Let’s be honest, if you meet someone in a pub and tell them you’ve got 14 acres that aren’t out in the sticks, there’s a good chance they’re coming home with you. But when they arrive at the stadium, they’re gonna think you’re some sort of Bond villain and/or on the run from the police. There’s no way you could ever get anyone to commit to coming back with you through the gates and tunnels, and then backstage, all the way to your little room of sadness with breezeblock walls. My friend Carl once lived in a windowless one-bed apartment next to Heaven in Charing Cross that had ornamental curtains on the wall and a two-fold front door that looked like it belonged on a stable. When he brought a girl back, she made them get the bus to hers instead because she clearly feared for her life. It was £1200 a month.
You might want to hunt around backstage for a few leftover tour posters to adorn your bare walls and feel a bit more at home here. Otherwise, you might go a bit Shawshank.
This isn’t a great one. If you have to get up in the middle of the night and go to the loo, it’s gonna take you an age to get to, you’ll get lost at least three times, and when you get there, five of them will be out of order and there are people crying in three – which leaves none. Start getting used to pissing yourself.
The final kicker, Mrs Brown’s Boys are doing a two-month uninterrupted run. Time to get your flatshare in Dalston back.