Friday, September 5, 2008

two turntables and a microphone

i've got a guilty secret. My music collection is a many splendoured thing. There's folk aplenty. Planxty, De Dannan, Christy Moore, Nick Drake, Dylan, Neil Young, John Martyn. From the Smiths to the Fratellis, if it indie I've got it. Funk, soul, blues, psychedelic, garage rock and punk are all in good supply. Dance floor fillers from the Supremes to Daft Punk. Enough reggae and dub to keep the most dedicated stoner in an easy skanking stylee. The dinosaurs like Led Zep and Floyd. Dean Martin and Sinatra, Davis and Coltrane. A veritable Mojo of tunes. But hidden on top of the metaphorical wardrobe, like a well hidden copy of Fiesta Readers Wives is the forbidden music.

I love hip hop. Not just the worthy conscious stuff, or the acceptable white boy jams. The Lil' Jon, Snoop, Jay Z, Dre, Kanye, Xzibit nasty ass commercial misogynist gear. With fat beats and lots of swearing. From old stuff like Tone Loc and Sir Mixalot to new cuts like Chamillionaire and 50 Cent. I love it with all the passion a 36 year old white dude with absolutely no cultural affinity can muster.

Sad but true.

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