We got off the bus and, after almost being run over by two speeding mobility scooter drivers with cans of Tennents Super rattling about in their cup holders, came to Queen’s Square, which is next to Green Street, famous for being the former home of West Ham FC, a legendary epicentre of football hooliganism. ‘Isn’t it amazing? This building means everything to me,’ said Lawrence, gazing up at the residential monolith overlooking the square, with its balcony-free blocks of flats with green window sills and concrete awnings at the edges. To the right was a pub called the Queen’s Function room, which someone had recently painted white, but in such a slapdash way that splodges of paint were splashed all over the pavement.
Lawrence gazed up in wonder. ‘Doesn’t it knock your socks off? The fact that it’s home to the most horrible market in all of humanity really adds to it all.’
We entered an urban bazaar, a concrete casbah, selling everything from sari fabrics to dried sheep’s intestines to white T-shirts for £2.99. It was here in 2012 that a market stallholder called Muhammad Nazir came up with a novelty tune called ‘One Pound Fish’ as a way to attract customers. It came to the attention of Warner Brothers and ended up being a top-thirty hit, but unfortunately the song’s success also alerted the UK border agency to the fact that Nazir was living in Britain on an expired visa. He had to go back to Pakistan when ‘One Pound Fish’ was still riding high in the charts, never to return.
‘You’ll get the most hideous fishes, highly synthetic West Ham tops, and enormous knickers for big fat women,’ listed my emaciated guide. Lawrence had worked on markets himself, helping his dad sell ‘chemists’ goods’ from his stall in Birmingham’s Corporation Square, before hitting puberty and becoming too embarrassed at girls from his school seeing him there on a Saturday morning to continue. ‘I love this market. I hate it too. Don’t bother saying hello to anyone, they’ll look at you like you’re going to mug them. Why don’t you get some nice fruit for your family? It’s much cheaper than Waitrose.’
With Denim, this kind of thing became inspirational material. ‘Suddenly my eyes were opened,’ said Lawrence as we passed a stall selling knock-off Rolexes. ‘I was looking for a London that wasn’t there anymore, Terence Stamp’s London in particular, alongside bands like Middle of the Road, the Glitter Band – but not Gary Glitter – and Opportunity Knocks. TV in general was important, and we were an ITV house so I would watch Magpie rather than Blue Peter. On top of this, I liked short songs, fifteen minutes on each side of the album. Put it all together and you end up with Denim.’
— Will Hodgkinson, Street-Level Superstar: A Year with Lawrence
Notes from a Room 