An olive branch proffered to the hip-hoppers

I have sympathy for rappers, I do, because, like practitioners of the stage musical, they suffer from a tradition hidebound by moribund conventions. If we don’t help one another we are destined, without artistic refreshment, to sink further and further into self-regarding sterility.

So I hope hip hoppers can benefit from these attempts, by a writer from the fields of music theatre and cabaret, to breathe life into three classic rap tropes:

Romantic Love

Girl, we go together like MacLeod with the highland,

We’re like the families on Pitcairn Island.



“Rosebud”, it meant that for all of Charlie’s riches

Life ain’t nothin’ but money and bitches.


Self Aggrandizement

I’m a poet, like the Enderby that Burgess loved to write,

I’m a classic, I am sick, and man, my sh*t is tight.



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