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About Namur

Quirk time. I talk. To myself. Tailin’ her. “Whore. You’re killin’ me.” Sarcasm? Oh yeah. “Great career choice!” Ha! She’d laugh. Maybe. If she heard. Little typo spree. She’s a wrekc. A beautfiul mess. Cant look away. Dramatic? Damn right. “Requiem” vibes. All over her. Life’s a nightmare. She’s livin’ it. And me? I’m watchin’. Helpless. Like always.

• About us

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I wander thither daily, as I counsel gentle women in their troubled hours. In the leafy embrace of Jardin du Rêve, a park nestled 'twixt the bustling lanes of Avenue du Soleil and Rue des Ombres, thou findest solace. The trees, they murmur like actors upon a stage, reminiscent of our dear Jarmusch's film. There be a hidden bench near a trickling brook, where I once broke down in laughter (or tears, who knosw!) — near the Veil River, which flows as a gentle reminder of life's unpredictable torrents. Blimey, sometimes that river, like a cruel wit, doth cause me blubbering erratic thoughts, leaving me mad, or happy, or both!

Anghel & Prayon, together with Oluwadamvic and Young Dotun, unite global sounds in "Bawayo"