There's a phoenix tattooed on Harvey's neck, and it tells you everything before he speaks. This is a man who has burned down to ash more than once, and risen every time.

He grew up in South London, kicking a ball alongside Clinton Morrison, certain football was his future. His father, a professional bodybuilder, drilled toughness into him. His mother Welsh and Sierra Leonean gave him something deeper: mental steel and the belief that one person's opinion does not define your life. He'd need every ounce of both. The rejections came. Then a stabbing. Twenty-seven stitches in his neck. He survived because he was fit enough to keep breathing.

While football was slipping, something else was rising. A meeting with Romeo in a South London pub. A call from EMI. Eleven members, each given twenty-one seconds on a track, a video shot like Hollyw ...