A summer storm has just swept off the plains.
Steam is rising from hot concrete walkways.
We're in Canada's northernmost big city, Edmonton.
It's August 2018.
In the south of the city, on the edge of an industrial estate,
a stream of cars pulls into a parking lot of a low-slung ranch-style building.
It's a bar where the bouncers have a reputation for taking no nonsense.
People are gathering in the early evening sun.
There's a buzz in the air, a chatter of expectation.
Inside, the dance floor is already packed.
A mass of bodies jostling to get closer to the stage.
Their phones raised at the ready.
Onto the stage strides a young rapper.
He's over six feet tall, wearing a reddish-pink turban,
combat trousers and a T-shirt covered in silhouettes of guns.
This is the man they've come to see.
He calls himself Sindhu Musiala.
The fans at the front bang the stage in a frenzy.
It's only been a year since he exploded onto the music scene.
But he's already on his way to being a star.