Today some shit happened that left me feeling all sad, but its cool ’cause I know how to handle that kind of fuckery: turn on the playstation, roll a spliff that’s bigger than I am, order the hottest peri-peri chicken money can buy and turn the music up to fucking 11. I’m telling you, that shit works, drown out any feelings, that will, soothe any aching soul.
Now, I know that this will piss my neighbours off (the music, not the chicken) and I know that they will call the police; after all, my sound system could demolish a god-damn city block, but fuck them. I have to listen to their dogs barking all day and them bickering all night so, likeisay, fuck them.
Anyway, I’m dancing round my little little living room to Professor Longhair, Busta Rhymes, Amy Winehouse and the like, in my underwear, with my teddy and my daft hat on, the mother of all joints dangling from my lips, when the Old Bill turn up. As I answer the door, shuffle decides to play NWA’s ‘Fuck Tha Police!’ I watch this WPC ‘s face contorting in visible pain with the lyrics and its all I can do not to start giggling. Anyway, at least they don’t come in and find the bag of weed on my coffee table or all the girls tied up in my basement, so I guess I get off light with being told to turn my shit down. All the same, fuck tha police!
a lot of people are surprised when i tell them i am into rap music. its not that i agree with the hate-filled opinions that a lot of rap expresses, its because i think rappers, especially gangsta rappers, are sweet. they are like my best friend’s little four year old boy. they think its clever to use rude words and act all tough. they are all ego and little else, and, like toddlers, i want to give them all a cuddle and a wowwipop.
i like also the fact that rappers are not quite who they think they are, not quite as anti-establishment as they would like to believe. i have always been told that some of the basic tenants of hip-hop are breaking, bombing and rapping, but to me that equates with dancing, painting and poetry. tell me if i’ve got it wrong, but round here dance, painting and poetry are considered rather white, middle-classed pursuits.
and, people seem confuse rappers with gangsters and i don’t understand why. gangsters are criminals, they do awful things and they tend to spend a lot of their time in prison, or dead. rappers, on the other hand, are performers, they spend their time in recording studios and big mansions. it amazes me that so many people cannot see the difference. i don’t know if its true or not, but someone once told me that although NWA may well have met in LA, it wasn’t on the streets of compton or inglewood, but in drama school. i find that rather easy to believe.
don’t get me wrong, i abhor all the women hating, the homophobia and the cop hating that rap music espouses, but then i am a grown up. nevertheless i love rap music, i love its brash ugliness, its complete lack of emotional maturity, its blatant desire to shock and upset. i love its raw power and its fuck you attitude. at the end of the day rappers are like little children, sweet, adorable and in need of our protection.
music is part of the human soul and is as old as our species. many scientists now believe that we were singing before we were talking. we will never know if that is right but i would bet my bottom dollar that if we went back far enough that there would’ve been angry music before there was pretty music.
check this guy out:
isn’t he just adorable? did you see him head-butt the ram? what a sweeedeee! couldn’t you just pick him up and kiss him?