I wanted to make a positive out of a negative. Wallace Wylie’s column over at Collapse Board about hateful, ultra-misogynistic rap made me wistful for the gentler hip-hop tunes I loved as a kid.
I was never much of a rap fan, but of course there were plenty of tracks I liked. Gangsta rap has never appealed: despite my pretensions, I’m not really middle class. I didn’t grow up in the ghetto – and of course I’m white and British – but you have to be very comfortably removed from crime and poverty for it to seem glamorous, or so entrenched in it that you don’t even think about getting out.
The rap songs I liked growing up were about regular, everyday stuff I could identify with: love, relationships and loud music. Continue reading