I’ve been pretending to know how to write shit about shit for nigh on three years now. A combination of this fine periodical and its charming, intelligent and stunning editor (who has a rubber arm when it comes to red wine) I have gotten away with many a published rant. However, it wasn’t until last month, when I dared to suggest that grunge music was shit and a bunch of snot nosed Poms saved us from it, that I experienced the vitriolic response worthy of a proper writer.

So, this time I thought I’d go ‘round the outside, ‘round the outside on the music theme again and share my important and thought-provoking views on the genre that is Rap.

So, kindly raise your set into the lower atmosphere and wave it around like you have a healthy disregard for convention, authority and normative values. Here, my home boys and fly girls, is the 4-1-1.

Have you got a friend who turns almost every indoor social gathering into a catalogue of funny shit they’ve seen on recently seen on YouTube? You do? I’m that person in my group of friends. Awesome aren’t they? The other day I was putting in some research in preparation for future soirees when I came across a video that made me realise my view of rap music, which used to swing between disdain and ignorance, needed revision. All of a sudden I realised that rap music wasn’t just scary and angry, it was also totally, awesomely, bonkers!

Now when I say rap, I am not interested in having a lengthy academic debate on what exactly does and doesn’t constitute the genre. Those sorts of debates are best left to the people in bars who wear socks with their sandals and put ice in their white wine. For the purpose of this article, rap music is a backbeat and someone rhyming as quickly as possible over the top of it.

It is this particular quality of rap music that brings out one of its most stupidly ace aspects, hidden in what they actually say. Now, I wouldn’t dare to suggest that rap music isn’t a multi-layered and variable tapestry. Rap has all the depth and nuance of Keanu’s acting. There are however, aspects that seem to feature almost universally. No matter what the subject matter of a given Rap song may be, almost invariably, the first eighty to ninety percent will be given over to assuring the listener of the artist’s unbridled awesomeness. It seems that either rappers are insecure and fickle, or their fans are amazingly forgetful. Every song will feature three essential elements. Firstly, the artist establishes rapport by giving a detailed account of the poor circumstances into which they were born and raised. This will however, be quickly followed by a reassurance that the singer is now as rich as fuck. Should there be a video that accompanies the track, at this point, one will see a cavalcade of dollar bills being thrown into the air, landing in the vicinity of some very expensive and shiny cars, being danced around by some ladies with unfathomably large boobs squished into tiny dresses or bikinis. The implication, so far as I can tell, is that the artist in question is the earner, owner and shagger respectively, of all of the above. I can but assume that the purpose of the afore mentioned symbolism is to establish, beyond any reasonable doubt, the cred of the rapper. However, not wanting to leave anything to chance, the ultimate credibility of your rap artist is almost always addressed by one means above all others. And that is association with crime.

I have never been the perpetrator of violent crime. That’s a deliberate decision, and one that leaves me speaking from a position of ignorance when it comes to discussing the way I would imagine one would act immediately after committing a murder. I am reasonably confident however that, should the homicide be premeditated, I would probably try to limit the number of people aware of my involvement in said crime. Rappers on the other hand tend to proudly proclaim the fact to ensure all in attendance of their bad arsery. Now, while I am sure this is entirely effective, I would also assume that it might bring the artist to the notice of interested authorities.

If someone goes and busts a cap in the ass of some fool and the police subsequently discover a fool who has been killed as a direct result of having an ass with busted caps in it and then they hear of someone bragging about the fact that they had filled the ass of this fool with caps, which they themselves had busted... Well, you get the idea. For me though, it does add to the charming ridiculousness of the whole genre.

The other thing that has completely changed my view of rap, almost overnight, is how easy it is to use rap to send itself up. And this gets back to my point about YouTube. This is the cutest and most charming thing I have seen online in a long time. The two little Aliens from Sesame Street lip syncing to Ante-Up by rappers M.O.P. I don’t think cute was what they were after when they penned lyrics like “Fool what you want? You life or your jewels?” and “Gimme the fuckin’ watch before I pop one in your brain”. But it works very well.

It’s similar to the famous scenes from that cult classic Office Space where our white collar, middle-class frat boy, Peter Gibbons (Ron Livingstone) struts his junk through the halls of Initech to the strains of Geto Boy’s “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangster”

I guess I’m all of a sudden turned around on the genre, because all I can say is, as a fellow white collar, somewhat wimpy office worker, why yes, it does feel somewhat special to be a bad ass mother fuckin’ gangster!! Thanks Rap. I’m glad I finally figured you out.

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