Now bear with me for a moment. Norman Mailer wrote an essay in the ’50s entitled ‘The White Negro’, on the subject of white teenage boys (usually) who would endeavour to express their identity as disenfranchised working-class youth by adopting characteristics you might normally attribute to black culture. Ali G then rounded off this theme perfectly: if you can make a good argument and make it funny, all the better. The ghetto-talking, white, middle-class hard lad is indicative of a cultural phenomenon that feeds into, and back from, modern hip hop, and is everything that is wrong with the genre, as far as I’m concerned.
Mike Skinner was able to bring dignity and a bit of originality to the role of white urban songwriter, so how does Goldie Lookin’ Chain fit into everything?
The Village was a peculiar setting for the Newport lads, as the band immediately attested “This is definitely the poshest place we’ve ever played,” one of the collective proclaimed, although the crowd of upside-down visors, white baseball caps and Adidas three-stripes lowered the tone no end.
In their current incarnation of ten Rab C Nesbits in gold medallions and trakkies, Goldie Lookin’ Chain offer a bizarre brand of tongue-in-cheek rap that references multitudinous hip hop and pop songs. Not in tribute, mind you – “Jah Rule mean shit to me”, is one of the milder sentiments in their ‘Shit To Me (Fuck You Alicia Keys)’; Ricky Martin gets an unkind nod too.
‘Guns Don’t Kill People, Rappers Do’, the upcoming single, is funny and sharp, accentuating an already animated atmosphere. This is where things get a little perplexing, though. It’s a fine line between cheeky parody and contrivance; this was reflected in the band’s audience, made up of rough-as-fuck ‘clarts’, and the trendies who were there to raise an eyebrow in wry amusement at the satire of the thing.
Remarks about “cruising around Gwent”, and Welsh gangsta posturings are so comical as to make you wonder who they’re taking the piss out of. Still, it was all starting to feel a bit Emperor’s New Clothes, till they started singing ‘You Mother’s Got A Penis’, and we all joined in. It is what it is, but there’s little more to it than novelty rap.