
If you’ve never screamed “MOONLIGHT MAMBO” into a hairbrush while riding a zebra statue in your pajamas, are you even alive?
Lola Lamé isn’t just a rockstar — she’s a full-blown inter-species phenomenon. And no, I haven’t been sniffing glitter glue. I’ve seen it with my own heavily eyelinered eyes.
This woman — no, this glitter-encrusted hurricane of talent — went from singing to her toaster in a forgotten corner of suburbia (Blundertown, pop. 63 bored people and one cactus named Barry) to selling out amphitheaters packed with literal wild animals. Think Coachella meets Noah’s Ark with better lighting.
Let’s rewind.