I'm in the car Sunday and I hear the start of the Clash's Guns of Brixton. Ah, I thinks to me self, a rare radio treat (and someone at the station is getting fired). Then, someone starts quasi rapping over the music. This wasn't P.Diddy-esqe sampling, mind you. This was full on "I've made up crappy new words to a really awesome song. Listen to me sing." Turns out it is Cypress Hill's new song.
This disturbing misuse of a great and angry song from the 70s coupled with the bizarre resurgence in the hip-hop popularity of suits and clothes that both fit and button makes me only wonder what could be next.
Will rappers like Snoop decide the bike is cool (again)? Will a know-unknown gangsta rapper spin yarns the hard life messengering - making deliveries, dealing from the benches in Dupont Circle and fleeing from the cops on his fixie?
Is it only a matter of time until pimped out italian frame and any thing Chris King or Phil Woods can CNC will be thrown around the cribs of MTV like the oh-so-passť bling bling of yesteryear?
If this all comes to pass, how will we, as un "cool" a group as your likely to find anywhere, remain cool?
This is keeping my up nights, you know.