![]() Even his neighborhood of choice is surprising – Oji, an area just outside Tokyo’s city center, whose suburban streets are somewhat at odds with the only sight which comes close to befitting such repute: a brand new white Mustang parked at a curious angle, somehow managing to look both scrupulous and insolent at the same time.įor KOHH, the lines between art and music don’t exist, and he’s equally passionate about both. ![]() Anybody could have lived in this cozy two-storey, but you would expect it least of all to be KOHH, the rapper-meets-artist-meets-model with a reputation as an aggressive lyricist reaching far beyond his home country of Japan. The only sign of vice: an ashtray resting on a spotless black stovetop. White, plain-Jane walls, two desks (for work, he offers), and a TV, in front of which was slouched a lone figure on a red leather sofa, watching cartoons. ![]() The interior of his house is more sparse than one would imagine, seeing as its owner is famous for wearing the voracious strains of ink and clothing on his body with diabolical impunity. He answered the door in a white T-shirt and black track pants, with the dragging gait and heavy-lidded look of someone who had just woken.
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