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Simon Illa Is Living Large
By Victor Fiorillo
A couple of Village-of-the-Damned brats in a Starbucks stand a foot away from Illa in his wheelchair and just stare for a very long 15 seconds, while their clueless khaki-dad sits nearby, sipping his drink. "My fans," jokes Simon when they finally walk away. "I owe it all to them." To come to terms with a world that thinks he's a freak, as Illa does — that is an empowering thing that most people wouldn't be able to embrace.
THESE DAYS, SIMON — who still lives in the same Chinatown hotel, which has been converted into condos — keeps working with almost anyone he can, waiting for more good news to roll his way. At a Dairy Queen in Miami, just after dinner at Red Lobster (Simon blames his uncultured palate on the fact he's from the Midwest), a Hispanic woman steps right in front of Simon and places her order. "Damn, I forgot to turn off my invisibility shield," remarks Simon. And then his phone rings. He finds out that both Timbaland and Storch are out of town and can't meet with him on this trip. It's a temporary setback, quickly negated by another call, this one informing him that Nox has just signed with Atlantic, for an album to be produced by Scott Storch. Of course, Simon would love to produce the album himself, but he realizes that anything Storch touches turns to pink-diamond-encrusted platinum. And if any of Simon's songs wind up on the album, and they probably will, some big money will be rolling his way.
It's a strange thing to say about somebody in Simon Illa's blinged-up business, but there it is: It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
THESE DAYS, SIMON — who still lives in the same Chinatown hotel, which has been converted into condos — keeps working with almost anyone he can, waiting for more good news to roll his way. At a Dairy Queen in Miami, just after dinner at Red Lobster (Simon blames his uncultured palate on the fact he's from the Midwest), a Hispanic woman steps right in front of Simon and places her order. "Damn, I forgot to turn off my invisibility shield," remarks Simon. And then his phone rings. He finds out that both Timbaland and Storch are out of town and can't meet with him on this trip. It's a temporary setback, quickly negated by another call, this one informing him that Nox has just signed with Atlantic, for an album to be produced by Scott Storch. Of course, Simon would love to produce the album himself, but he realizes that anything Storch touches turns to pink-diamond-encrusted platinum. And if any of Simon's songs wind up on the album, and they probably will, some big money will be rolling his way.
It's a strange thing to say about somebody in Simon Illa's blinged-up business, but there it is: It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
Originally published in Philadelphia magazine, December 2006
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