Can you judge a reggae album by its cover?

I recently bought two reggae albums purely on the strength of their front cover artwork. But is the old saying true? Is it really foolhardy to judge a book (or CD) by its cover? Let's find out!

1. Ranking Ann - Something Fishy Going On (£2 from Record & Tape Exchange, Soho)


So what's all this about, then? Well, let's break down the scene. Ranking Ann - a keen angler - is out on a fishing trip. Having baited her hook and cast her line, she waits patiently for a bite from an easily-duped mackerel or gullible cod. However, when she finally feels a tug at the end of her rod, she soon realises it's not a fish that's doing the tugging. Oh no. It's a bloody submarine! She's pulled up a bloody nuclear sub! As the vessel's bow penetrates the ocean's murky lid, all hell breaks loose. Torpedoes topple from the heavens like giant cylindrical raindrops; dark grey mushroom clouds explode on the horizon; great white sharks emerge from the depths in a surprisingly well-choreographed chorus line. It's at this precise moment that Ann decides "something fishy" is definitely "going on".

Understandably angered and confused by the day's events, she returns immediately to her studio in order to create an unflinchingly political reggae record. "Me hear a whisper inna Westminster", she claims on the title track, "Lord dem ah chat bout nuclear war".

However, despite this initial dalliance with Cold War rhetoric, in addition to the clear political agenda hinted at by the cover, there's actually very little revolutionary content on 'Something Fishy Going On'. In fact, Ann spends most of the album either rhythmically spelling her own name (on 'Call Me Ranking Ann') or bewailng the over-zealous sexual advances of today's disco-dwelling males (on 'Stop Romance Inna Dance').

So, there you have it. If 'Something Fishy Going On' is anything to go by, you CANNOT judge a reggae album by its cover. Here's 'Stop Romance Inna Dance' for your listening pleasure:


NB. It's also worth mentioning, as you can see from this link, that the flute parts on 'Something Fishy Going On' were performed by one Kate (Katie?) Holmes. Could this be the same Katie (Kate?) Holmes who won our hearts as Joey Potter, the attractive tomboy-next-door in 'Dawson's Creek', before wedding a diminutive cocktail-shaking Scientologist? Maybe. But - let's face it - probably not.

2. Professor Frisky - Rougher (£0.99 from Christmas Bargain Warehouse Sale, Leicester Square)


While there may be more action on the front of Ranking Ann's cover, Frisky's artwork is certainly no less amusing. Indeed, the name 'Professor Frisky' is in itself inherently comedic. The idea of a man who is so frisky that he's actually gained a qualification permitting him to deliver lectures on friskiness, is quite clearly a very funny one.

Anyway, listening to 'Rougher', we find once again that both the title and cover of this album are wholly misleading. While Frisky certainly looks the part of the ladykilling 'badman' in the picture above, many of the songs on this record are, in fact, of a deeply spiritual (and therefore not particularly 'rough') nature. 'God Alone' finds the Professor hammering home the importance of the Almighty in all our lives, reminding us - in case we've forgotten - that the Big Man Upstairs created "all the animals like you and me: cows, goats, horse and donkey". While his knowledge of the animal kingdom clearly doesn't extend much beyond the British farmyard, you have to admit that Frisky has a point here. Conversely, on 'Jah Is Not Sleeping', the Prof paints the Lord in a much more human light, depicting him less as an omnipotent deity and more as a weary insomniac.

So, there you go. Two reggae albums, two misleading covers. There's nothing on youtube from 'Rougher' itself, but here's the Professor in action on a song called 'Man Fi Strong':



NB. It's important to note that the creature in the video below is an altogether different Professor Frisky from the one discussed above:

You look like you've escaped from Strangeways...

Mark E Smith reads the football results on Match Of The Day and then accuses Ray Stubbs of sporting a criminal's hairdo.

Here's theme from Sparta FC in full, because it's so brilliant.

Guru Interview

In yet another Behind The Scenes exclusive, we catch up with infamous self-help guru (and female magnet), Anthony Robbins, to discover the secret to success.

Three Deeply Odd Men

1. Eek-A-Mouse



I wonder what Eek-A-Mouse thinks when he watches the video above. I wonder what his family think. Let's be honest, these are not the actions of a sane man.

2. GG Allin



His birthname was 'Jesus'. He acquired a cult following. He died quite young. He was often covered in blood. He had a beard. Apart from the fact that he made punk music and frequently defecated on stage, GG Allin was almost identical to God's preachy little lovechild.

3. Sun Ra



David Bowie was always banging on about how much of a massive 'alien' he was, but the reason no-one took him seriously is because he didn't quite get the look right. As Sun Ra shows here, all you need is some 'moon shoes', a couple of Hieroglyphic mates and a jheri curl made of cheap gold bracelets, and suddenly everyone's fished right in.

Some other brilliant madmen - Ol Dirty Bastard, George Clinton, Lee Perry, Captain Beefheart, Viv Stanshall, Hasil Adkins.

Weaponized to Boggle

Ruffhousing favourite went over to Switzerland to peep the LHC...this is what he thought http://www.cernpodcast.com/?p=43

Enjoy

Young Jeezy

Ruffhousing and Behind The Scenes proudly present this exclusive interview with rapper Young Jeezy, in which the Atlanta MC addresses recent issues regarding his sexuality

Ruffhousing Podcasts

Below is the Ruffhousing podcast player.


Click here to get your own player.


However, if you want to download any of these, you can do so at iTunes (by searching 'ruffhousing' in the Music Store).

If you would like to subscribe to the podcasts immediately, follow these five easy steps:

1. Open iTunes
2. Go to 'Advanced'
3. Scroll down to 'Subscribe to Podcast...'
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5. Gently beat yourself off to celebrate

Richard Bacon Did Coke

I've gotta stop posting Chris Morris/Armando Iannucci clips, but this is just too good.

Fuck Tom Daley

If one thing was annoying about the olympics (apart from everyone going on about 'Team GB') it was that little shit Tom Daley. Yeah, we did really well, John Major was a clever boy and the British dominate at sitting down. But I wanna see that little cunt do what Dana Kunze can do. In fact all the diving events can take a leaf out of Dana's book. Just check the joker out; he actually bothered 'training' for this dive. Looks like he spends the rest of his time geeting 'tanked with his bro's'...what a role model. He's great...

In other news, Ruffhousing scribe Thomas Trouble has been experiencing unrivalled backlash since he started fronting a band more annoyingly optimistic than CBBC's Balamory - Noah and the Whale.

The Ting Tings are cunts. And Brian Eno wrote the start up music for Windows '95.

Out

I'm Off Any Minute

This is the first part of the BBC Radio series 'Why Bother?' featuring conversations between Chris Morris and Peter Cook (as Arthur Streeb-Greebling). All five episodes are on youtube and all five episodes are absolutely brilliant. There's an extremely lengthy, but generally quite interesting, interview with Chris Morris about the experience of working with Peter Cook here. The highlight of this first one, for me, is Cook discussing Betty Grable's legs and then going on to refer to Eric Clapton as a "pathetic individual".

You Might Get A Free Haircut

Why - WHY - would anyone want to bring Brutus 'The Barber' Beefcake (who's now, I would assume, in his early fifties) to their town, state or high school? He almost certainly lives alone in a damp flat, dividing his time between microwaving ready meals and standing naked in front of the mirror, shears to his throat, weeping quietly.

We're having a party.

EVIL INCARNATE

"The other shape, if shape it might be called, that shape had none, Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; Or substance might be called that shadow seemed; For each seemed either; black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful dart; what seemed his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand; and from his seat The monster, moving onward, came as fast With horrid strides; Hell trembled as he strode"

(Paradise Lost, Book II)

Replace the "he's" with "she's" and Milton pretty much hit the nail on the head here.

Think soccer ain't a sport?

Continuing with our fine tradition of championing rapping footballers (or, for that matter, footballing rappers), here's Clint Dempsey (aka 'Deuce') with 'Don't Tread'.

Ruffhousing Podcasts

Below is the Ruffhousing podcast player. However, if you want to download any of these, you can do so at iTunes (by searching 'ruffhousing' in the Music Store).

If you would like to subscribe to the podcasts immediately, follow these five easy steps:

1. Open iTunes
2. Go to 'Advanced'
3. Scroll down to 'Subscribe to Podcast...'
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5. Gently beat yourself off to celebrate


Click here to get your own player.

Zappa Plays Bikes

Frank Zappa, aged 22, on the Steve Allen show being interviewed about his musical bicycle shenanigans. He looks so neat and presentable - who'd have thought he'd grow his hair long and start, y'know, fucking the system up with his satirical guitar shreddery. There are other parts to this vid, you can find em on youtube. Frank Zappa's such a rudeboy.

Front Men

Front men! Front men you say!

First up, here's James Chance in action with The Contortions. Look at this fucking badman go. He is everything that a lead singer should be.



Next is a kick to the groin of all the floppy haired fags in indie bands up and down the country. Ruining the summer with their pathetic attempts to be "rock'n'roll" at festivals just so T4 get some cheap airtime!

HERE COMES IGGY!



HEY BO DIDDLEY!

You can judge a book by its cover!



The Easybeats are pacific garage!

The Easybeats are simply amazing. If you have never heard of them before SHAME ON YOU!



The original GOO GOO MUCKS!

They make me want to invent a time machine just so I can go back to CBGBs in the 1970s and spit on them!



"Its Star time ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready for startime? Thank you and thank you very kindly. It is indeed a great pleasure to present to you at this particular time, national and international known as the hardest working man in show bizness. Mister D-Y-N-A-MITE. The amazing mister 'PLEASE,PLEASE' himself. The star of the show! JAMES BROWN!



Selections: Saturday and Trouble

It's T (Again)

Here's the official video for MC Terminator's 'It's T'



Ruffhousing has been championing Terminator for a long time now, and thus it's good to see him progressing, both as a rapper and as a figure of ridicule.

There's much debate about whether or not Terminator also plays for QPR under the alias (or 'birth name'), Shabazz Baidoo. As we reported back in December 2006, he did play for the Rs, but unfortunately they gave him away to Dagenham & Redbridge earlier this year for the princely sum of no pence. Anyway, as is usually the case with grime/dubstep queries, Norwich City FC are the ones to clear things up once and for all

My Necktie Is Asleep

This is Tom Waits on a 70s programme called 'Fernwood Tonight', being interviewed by a young(er) Fred Willard.

Run The Risk(y Roadz)?

Surely, with the grime-assisted re-birth of hammer-wielding manboy Timmy Mallet, it's now time for Run The Risk's perennial pratfaller, Peter Simon, to re-visit the spotlight?

At the moment, Simon is playing a sort of David-Dickinson-meets-Buster-Keaton role on freeview shopping channel, Bid TV, which basically consists of him repeatedly falling on his face in an attempt to sell pointless crap to bored women.



However, ask anyone (Peter Simon; Peter Simon's family) and they'll tell you that there's much more to the big man than self-harming for consumerism.

So, come on grime MCs: step up to the plate! Skepta, JME and Jammer can rest easy, as they've already been catalytic in Mallet's resurrection, but what about the rest of you? Ghetto, Trim, Tinchy - stick Peter S on a fucking remix!

And don't let it stop there. Badness - why not ask Sarah Greene to produce your next single? Bashy - get Terry Nutkins on the beatbox! Let the worlds of violent urban music and late 80s childrens' television collide!

I really fancy Lykke Li

If you go down to the woods today...

I'd like to tell you a story. It's a true story, and it all happened to me two days ago - 25/06/08. I shall begin at the end, as it seems as good a place as any, and then tell you how I ended up there...

From the hours of 2pm til just before 4pm yesterday I was sat in Windsor Police Station making an official statement. The following is the story of that statement.

Just to set the scene I need to tell you that I'm currently living in Berkshire doing a masters. My final project is on dead and ancient trees in Windsor Great Park, so I spend most days either in open parkland or woodland.

Anyway, I was sitting down on a log minding my own business and recording some tree measurements. I then noticed a man walking passed and thought nothing of it. I carried on writing until a few minutues later when I noticed the same bloke walking in the same direction, had a closer look and realised he was topless. Now this aroused by suspicions and I arose from by log to see what the cunt was up to. And then it all became clear...He was STARK BOLLOCK NAKED AND MASTURBATING as he walked along! I had no idea what to do at first, I was simply outraged! I knew there was a bit of a dodgy car park nearby but did not expect THIS! I didn't know what to do as first - start shouting and attack him? Do one on the quick tip? I quickly decided on the latter option as I thought there could have been more of the dirty bastards in the area, and didn't really want to be in the vicinity of a gang of horny homos.

I quickly gathered my things and did one towards the main road sharpish calling the police on the way, as this was area that I had previously seen families, horseriders and lone female joggers. Within 10 mins I was back at the car park and the police had already shown up with a dog team. So me, a big skinhead police man and a massive Alastian went hunting a homo in the Great Park. We retraced my steps and sure enough found the perv were I'd last seen him. However, this time there was another bummer floating around and homoing in on him. This secondary cottager was swiftly told to do one by the police officer as he and the dog ran at the still naked nonce whilst reading him his rights.

I didn't want to get to close but the police man told me that as he got closer the bloke was struggling to get his shorts back on and had sticking nettle marks all over his genitals and groin. Anyway, the rather unlikely troop of me, the police man, the dog and the nonce traipsed back to the cars where more police were waiting to cart him off. Upon sighting him one of the waiting police stubbed out his cigarette, snap on the floor and snarled, 'Dirty fucking cunt!'

I was then that the filthy bumlord came out with the clincher - 'But I've got to pick my kid up from school' !!!!! He was assured this would be take care of and then carted off, while I head into Windsor to make my statement.

And here we are at the end of what was a strange afternoon for me. It may all end in court in a couple of weeks as I was informed yesterday that he had been charged.

OUT

OH MY FUCKING LIFE

The best thing about this is his dance. His slightly camp dance as he wields a machete and a cleaver.

Another shit advert...

The above picture is taken from the current McCoys Crisps ad campaign, the tag-line of which is 'McCoys: Man Crisps'.

The guy in the picture is being sucked up and out of a pub through a futuristic plastic tube, having revealed to his 'mates' that he has a basic knowledge of ballet. This interest in areas other than football, violence and women with low self-esteem apparently renders him a mincing, nutless schoolgirl - a desperate and laughable excuse for a 'man'. Certainly not 'man' enough to enjoy a big meaty McCoys Crisp. So, it's the tube for him - or should we say 'her'!

Judging by this advert, we understand that McCoys Crisps define a 'man' as a 'boring, pointless, despicable fucking cunt who considers anyone with any originality or dynamism or passion to be a worthless screaming eunuch'.

Most male ballet dancers could probably kick the shit out your average pub-dwelling, McCoy-chomping, Nuts-reading personalityphobe. Lad culture is, and always has been, incredibly depressing and slightly sinister, and anyone who subscribes to it deserves to be castrated with a radio aerial and kicked down a well. Below is a Lad in action:



Here is another from the McCoys canon. Enjoy. Unless you're a homosexual, an intellectual, or someone who isn't a complete CUNT.



"So anyway", says Lad Clone 1, as his oestrogen-heavy pal is pumped swiftly from the establishment, "we all set for Tuesday?". Tuesday being the day that he and his accomplices march furiously through London's art galleries, theatres and libraries, clubbing any males they find to death.

Watch out for forthcoming McCoys Crisps campaigns, including 'McCoys: Not For Faggots', and 'McCoys: All Gay People Are Sub-Human And Deserve To Die'.

Currently pon the Ruffhousing tits...

Those fucking Cobra ads.

"You know Daddy Long Legs'?"
"Yeah"
"Well, what do they call the female ones?!"
"Bloody hell! Barman, we'll need two more Cobras, please - it'll take a while to thrash this one out! Female Daddy Long Legs'! There's a brain teaser!"
"And while we're at it, why is 'abbreviated' such a long word?"
"Christ, it's going to be an all-nighter!"

God, these ads are irritating. They're apparently aimed at fictional groups of 'mates' who have so little in common and are so utterly starved for something - anything - to say to each other when they're down the pub that they have to resort to these pedestrian exchanges of pointless questions. Do these dullards really exist? The day I ask one of my closest friends, "why is it called a 'drive-thru' when you have to stop?" is the day I realise I have no close friends. And the day before I take my own life.

Tom Trouble

Ruffhousing Podcasts - Officially Big In The Game

Below is the Ruffhousing podcast player. However, if you want to download any of these, you can do so at iTunes (by searching 'ruffhousing' in the Music Store).

If you would like to subscribe to the podcasts immediately, follow these five easy steps:

1. Open iTunes
2. Go to 'Advanced'
3. Scroll down to 'Subscribe to Podcast...'
4. Copy and paste this into the box - http://ruffhousing.podOmatic.com/rss2.xml
5. Gently beat yourself off to celebrate


Click here to get your own player.

Behind The Scenes: Reggae

The last in the present series of Behind The Scenes' musical adventures focuses on that chirpy, sunny and horrifically violent Caribbean export: reggae music. So light up a ganja spliff, crack open a Red Stripe, hurl abuse at anyone who enjoys pork products, and give it a listen!

Check www.ruffhousing.podomatic.com or search the iTunes store for 'ruffhousing' to give it a listen! Or alternately, scroll up the page, blud.

I Ain't New Ta This

Here's Ice T to outline the reasons why the rap game isn't something he's only just got involved in and to emphasise that it would be a mistake to assume that he hadn't been doing what he does for quite a while already.



NB. In this song, Ice also mentions that he's "NEVER been new to this", which leads us to believe that he began rapping within seconds of exiting the womb. And even then, he'd already been doing it for a while.

'Do it, do it now!'

DVD extras are generally very boring and only worth it for deleted scenes on your favourite comedy series'. But imagine if the commentaries were all like this...





Sam Yo

Don't call it a come back...it's just some reviews

MGMT – Oracular Spectacular (Columbia)

Oracular Spectacular. Interesting title, interesting album. MGMT fit into that category of trendy American bands that are actually pretty good. Comparisons generally being drawn with Flaming Lips (Dave Fridmann produces) and their ilk; I personally think the Secret Machines is quite a good approximation too. Layered in psychedelic synths and sweet melodies (‘The Youth’ in particular sticks in your head), the album isn’t overly long (pressed up on a single piece of vinyl rather than being stretched to two) or as pretentious as some of their promotional shots would suggest. Oracular Spectacular doesn’t set the world alight, rather it’s a solid debut from a promising new band; even if one of them looks a like a new rave Kevin Rowland.

Supergrass – Diamond Hoo Ha (EMI)

A quintessentially English group, Supergrass peaked commercially in the Brit Pop years but have only got better since - their last album Road to Rouen was arguably their best since We’re In For The Money. This record is a little different from their last. Written as a twosome while bassist Mickey Finn was lying in bed quadraspazzed after a nasty sleep walking accident, it finds the band taking a fair rawer, stripped down approach; and they’re fucking good at it too. The title track lead single is an absolute rocker but there are highlights all over the album such as ‘Rough Knuckles’ and ‘Whiskey & Green Tea’; and also some very nice horns. Not an album that’s gonna set the world alight or win them any new fans but it certainly keeps the old ones baying for more.

Neon Neon - Stainless Style (Lex)

SFA’s Gruff Rhys and Boom Bip might seem like an odd couple but this is a cracking concept album. Based on utter joker million dollar play boy John Delorean and his rise and fall from grace with the train-wreck of a business that was the Delorean car and drugs, the album is full of variation. Funky 80s beats (‘Raquel’ and ‘I Lust U’), left-field hip hop (‘Trick or Treat’ sounds like it could have been nicked off Mike Ladd’s Majesticons project) and blessed out melodies (closer ‘Stainless Style’) all fit together extremely well without sounding forced. Definitely a worthy addition to both artists’ canons. Peep it.

Sharon Jones – 100 days, 100 nights (Daptone)

Today most ‘soul’ singers are lacking in one quite fundamental element – SOUL. Joss Stone, Corinne Bailey Rae, Duffy and all those slags need a year on some hard drugs and some actual life experience. For all her faults at least Winehouse has lived and sounds like she means what she sings. She also has a dope little band, the Dap-Kings, one which she shares with American soul singer Sharon Jones. Jones has been around the block a few times and paid her dues and produces a solid funk-soul LP, replete with a dope-ass retro sleeve. I’m gonna invest in her previous two albums of the back of this and I suggest you do too.

Ghostface Killah – Big Doe Rehab (Def Jam)

This came out ages ago but I’ve been a busy boy, and to be honest there’s not a lot of shout about anyway. It seems that Ghostface has got lazy with this release, something that he’s not normally guilty of. To be honest it’s just a collection of filler for the fan base that won’t appeal to a wider audience like Fish Scale did. There are some better tracks such as ‘Killa Lipstick’ and the self-produced ‘Supa GFK’ but even they don’t stick out that much from the rest. It’s not a shit album but Ghostface has set his standards that high that it’s just not really good enough; you’re much better investing in the Wu’s new opus 8 Diagrams. Now that really is immense.



More up soon

Sam Yo

The Best Song In The World?

Maybe. Definitely the best hip hop song in the world, though. No question.



God, I love Big L.

Thomas Trouble.

Channel Ruffhousing

Since the departure of Ruffhousing’s ‘Channel U Classics’ the 3barfire head office has been bombarded with letters of complaint, death threats and the odd suicide note – proving once and for all that a regular intake of ruffhousing is as an important part of your weekly routine as a trip to the supermarket or a aggressive, tearful wank.

With that in mind we bring you Ruffhousing TV – many of you will sneer and suggest that we merely have run out of videos to post up from channel U, many of you will be right.


Genius Cru – Course Bruv

This next video comes from before the conception of everyone’s favorite cultural experiment, but if there ever was a video that set the trend for 99% of the shit that is seen on channel U today then this is surely it. Just imagine! Without these videos you may never heard of the genius of Junior Spesh, the lyrical ferocity of Flirta D or the albino rodent ramblings of L.Man.


The video features social etiquette specialists Genius Cru – who, in a tumultuous period in the late 90s when people where bewildered and confused as to how to approach a colleague to request a small sip of their beverage, solved this conundrum with not only a musical hit – but a social phenomenon.



Not content with the simple club setting of their previous smash hit ‘Boom Selection’, the Cru uped the ante with a thrilling backdrop of international espionage and high stakes gambling - this video is everything Casino Royale wanted to be – I’m fairly sure there all working as IT consultants now.


Bob Marley

This week it’s been announced that production is beginning on a big Hollywood bio-pic of marijuana smoking, wife beating, gay hating, reggae legend Bob Marley. Its sure to be a feel good hit, missing out these inconvenient aspects of Bob’s life, and most likely ending up resembling a Lilt advert. Anyone who’s been on a gap year or is contemplating one should pre-order the DVD from their local independent retailer (not HMV, they rape Tibetan children and pay them in buttons).



Apparently Lauren Hill is in the running to play Bob Marley’s wife – there’s no real front runners as to who’ll play the man himself but my money is firmly on Martin Short. It’s been lengthy absence for the Father of The Bride (1+2!) star and this may just be the project to lure him out of the cinematic wilderness. Fingers crossed.


Devliman

One of the miracles of the modern age is our increasing level of social acceptance. In the 1500s, if a man from the midlands with a penchant for hunting hats and the voice of a Chinese robot began publicly spouting obscene jibberish about poisoned foodstuffs, he would have been roundly thrashed and flame-grilled as a demon-smuggling nutbox.

Here in the twenty-first century, however, the openly mad are actively celebrated and even - in some cases - given access to recording studios in which to vent their twisted brain-bile. Which brings us to 'Chinese Tale' by Birmingham's Devilman. A psychedelic urban gem, or the ramblings of someone who has something very wrong with their mind? You decide.

Chinese Tale


Words: Robin and Tom
from 3 Bar Fire

BOOM

Musical Biopics

So, like a man visiting a particularly punctual whore, 2007 went almost as soon as it came.

Unlike this fictional philanderer, however, the year also brought with it a slew of music biopics that consistently peppered our nation’s big screens. Control, Dreamgirls and I’m Not There (in which 6 different actors play out 6 different stages of Bob Dylan’s career) all had true-life musical stories at their respective cores, and, in recent years we’ve also seen Joaquin Phoenix aping Johnny Cash in Walk The Line and Jamie Foxx stumbling and mumbling his way to Oscar glory as Ray.

However, as the above list proves, it seems that film studios are afraid to gamble on anything other than the biggest musical names and the most interesting musical stories. So, with this in mind, Ruffhousing presents to you the musical biopics that should have been. And, technically, still could be.

RUNNING THE ROAD

BAFTA-winning softie, Richard Curtis, transfers his trademark dewy-eyed, moist-trousered writing style to the tumultuous etymology of the East London grime scene in this light-hearted urban rom-com. Dizzee (played by John Simm) is a streetwise youngster who dreams of fame and fortune as a superstar rapper. However, following a violent bust-up with his relentlessly po-faced mentor and friend, Wiley (Bill Nighy), Dizzee begins to question whether he has the strength to make it to the top on his own, and win over the girl of his dreams in the process. Co-starring Kristin Scott Thomas as Lady Sovereign and Clive Owen as Tinchy Stryder.

THE TOXIC TWINS

Ant and Dec star in this ill-advised children's feature depicting the Bacchanalian substance abuse and furious sexual exploits of Aerosmith rockers, Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, in appallingly graphic detail.

ISN'T IT IRONIC?

Off-beat romantic comedy in which Alanis “Why The Long Face?” Morissette (played here by Janine Garofalo) spends an hour and a half wandering around continually pointing out things that are ironic, until, finally, she is beaten unconscious by a man who has just had his wedding day rained off.

CHECKIN’ IT OUT

Based largely (to the point of copyright infringement) on the Bob Dylan film, I’m Not There, Checkin’ It Out features 6 different British actors leading viewers through 6 different periods in the long and varied career of punk-pop midget, Lil’ Chris. Simon Callow and Colin Firth both shine as the foetus and toddler Chris respectively, but the most memorable turn by far comes courtesy of Helen Mirren, who brings Chris' turbulent puberty period to life with the help of a New Era hat and some truly grotesque prosthetics.

DUDE, WHERE'S MY CAREER?

Heart-pummelling rap/rock weep-a-thon starring Tony Slattery as ex-Limp Bizkit frontman and tubby Nu-Metal poster-boy, Fred Durst. The first twenty-five minutes of this feature are a thoroughly cheerful affair, featuring scenes involving Grammy Awards Ceremonies, playful camaraderie with DMX (Phil Jupitus) and casual sex with Britney Spears (Leslie Ash). However, viewers with young children should be warned that the later stages of the film - in which Durst's sudden realisation that his career is essentially over sends him spiralling downwards into a black pit of empty despair - contain scenes of explicit violence, incessant swearing and – finally - angry, bitter sobbing.

TOTALLY WIRED

Disney Pixar present a CGI animated romp through the hilarious and chaotic life of that lovable Mancunian sourpuss, Mark E Smith. Smith (voiced here by Kelsey Grammer) is a struggling young revolutionary trying to make his voice heard among the grit and squalor of the late 70s industrial North. However, a chance meeting with an amusingly highly-strung robot called 'Crackles', who is on his way to get his frazzled wiring fixed, leads him on a riotous – and heart-warming – journey of self-discovery. NB. Pixar have not stayed entirely true to Smith’s actual life story here.

THE DRUMMER FROM KEANE

Horrifically uneventful biopic based loosely on the life of the drummer from Keane.

JAMMIN'

Big budget, Hollywood-friendly re-telling of the life of reggae ambassador, Bob Marley. In order to appeal to the widest possible American audience, the Jamaican patois which Marley spoke has been altogether eliminated, the singer's passion for marijuana has been replaced by a love of very hot curries, and Bob himself is to be played by David Schwimmer; a white man with a sensible haircut.

GOLDIELOCKS AND THE 3 BEARS

Less biopic and more 'snuff' film, Goldielocks and the 3 Bears follows the real life kidnapping of pointless electro-bint, Goldielocks, as she is dragged screaming from her family home in the dead of night, marched blindly into a damp cavern and left to fend for herself in the company of three hunger-ravaged Canadian brown bears, whom her captors adamantly refuse to call off until she has signed a legally binding agreement promising never EVER to go near a microphone again.

HEY NIKKI!

Overtly camp and fantastically upbeat musical starring Martin Clunes and Nicholas Lyndhurst as the all-singing, all-dancing, South London grime lotharios, Nikki S and Nyke. Having met at a local Scouts group, the boys decide that music is the path for them, and consequently embark on a high-kicking cabaret of love, laughter and line-dancing, until, ultimately – via a series of humourous misunderstandings – they wind up in bed together. NB. Neither Nikki S nor Nyke have officially given their consent to this project.

Troublesome

The Birth of NWA

Gangsta Rap is a murky business. One minute you’re driving a Cadillac full of prostitutes to a local jewellers, the next you’re being pummelled frantically by a convicted felon. But how did this sub-genre originate? We all know the rumours, the myths and (thanks to Wikipedia) the actual truth, but now, for the first time ever, Ruffhousing is proud to unearth the 1985 correspondence between Andre ‘Dr Dre’ Young and Eric ‘Eazy E’ Wright that lead to the birth of N.W.A. and, ultimately, the international explosion of Gangsta Rap music:

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Dear Eric,

Hope this letter finds you well. God, December is a brutal month; who was it that said “it is winter alone that reminds us of the human condition”? I think it may have been Ice T. As you will probably have noticed, this letter is unstamped. At present, I have little money for postage and thus decided to hand deliver it. As to why, upon arriving at your door, I did not just knock and speak to you directly: I cannot explain. The human mind is a mysterious thing.

Anyway, I’m contacting you regarding an original idea I’ve been harbouring for a while now. You see, Eric, I’m angry. Angry about loads of stuff: the police, bitches, the fact that I was christened Andre – a name which is associated predominantly with homosexual French men and wrestling giants. My idea is to form a rap group. ‘What’s original about that?!’, I hear you cry. I can literally hear you crying as I write this; you live three doors down and Dumbo is on television.

The original aspect is this: we will be a ‘Gangsta’ rap group. We will use rap music to project our anger, dissatisfaction and unhappiness with the modern world. We will combat social inequality; we will provide a voice for the disenfranchised urban youth; we will mention guns a lot. What I need to get this group off the ground, is someone with street credibility, record industry contacts and serious financial backing. Will you be that someone?

Please let me know what you think, Eric. I really believe this could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

All the best,
Andre.

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Dear Andre,

Many thanks for your letter; it made for interesting reading. I myself cannot read but I asked an associate to read it aloud to me. I must say, however, that your opening comments regarding winter threw me a little, as it is currently June.

As you may or may not be aware, I recently set up a record label with a friend of mine, and – like yourself – we are both deeply angry men. Furthermore, we are both really quite well off. To back this statement up, I am enclosing a hundred dollar bill. Please send it back to me at this address when you are suitably convinced of my wealth.

I am very interested in your proposal, and I do indeed have the required credibility, contacts and finance (see enclosed bill). However, I truly believe that I could offer more to this project than just hard currency. I am enclosing with this letter a recent excerpt from my diary. I think you will agree that it shows not only a certain linguistic flair, but also a chasm-like emotional depth:

Friday June 13th 1985:
10.34am – Have just measured myself and found that I’ve grown 3 inches since Tuesday! Things are certainly looking up!
10.37am – Just realised that I was wearing heels. I have not grown an inch.
11.07am – Racked with paranoia about the heels. Have I had them on all morning and not noticed? Must be more careful in future.

On reflection, this excerpt was perhaps not the best example of my way with words (nor my overall state of mind), but I have already placed it into this unsealed envelope, so it’s essentially too late.

Please let me know what you think, Andre. I would be more than happy to provide you with substantial financial support, but I ask that – in addition to this - I be allowed to contribute my lyrics/voice to the records you produce.

Yours, as ever,

Eric.

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Eric,

As you will probably have noticed, I am sending this letter via ‘Fax Machine’! What won’t those egg-heads think of next!

I was very interested in what you had to say in your last letter, and your diary entry certainly made for hilarious reading! I am pleased that you are willing to assist the group financially, but I assume (hope) that your request to contribute your “lyrics/voice” to the records was merely a funny joke. As you and I both know, you sound like one of the Chipmunks and have all the lyrical ability of a dyslexic creche.

Best regards,
Andre.

PS. If it’s alright with you, I will hold onto the hundred dollar bill for a little longer.

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Dear Andre,

Apologies for this late reply to your last note. In your haste to experiment with cutting edge technology by sending me a ‘fax’, you neglected to check whether I myself owned a fax machine. I don’t. It really has to be a two-way thing if it is work properly.

Having listened to you dictate said correspondence over the telephone last night, I cannot pretend I was not wounded somewhat by your assumption that my desire to write and perform raps was “merely a funny joke”. Far from it; I am deadly serious.

I must state again that my finanical contribution to your group comes hand-in-hand with my vocal contribution. There can be no discussion on this.

Yours,
E

PS. I would appreciate it greatly if you could return the hundred dollar bill as soon as possible. It is of significant emotional value to me.

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Eric,

Well, it appears we have hit something of a wall! You insist that you are an urban poet with a flair for language akin to Nabokov and a voice of thundering oak, and I (and most other people) insist you are a helium-voiced simpleton with a Jheri-Curl hairdo.

However, I must say that I respect the strength of character that you displayed in your last letter, and I think I may have a possible solution to our conundrum. I have a friend named O’Shea who has been writing rap lyrics for some time now under the alias ‘Ice Cube’. I have explained our situation to him and he is more than happy to give you the lyrics he produces that he doesn’t think are good enough to use himself. The ones that are just plain embarrassing. You know, the rubbish ones. No-one will be able to tell you are not the author of your own verses; O’Shea is a master of subtlety. I enclose here an example of a trial lyric he has written for you for a forthcoming song called ‘8 Ball’:

“Ice Cube writes the rhymes that I say/
Hail to the niggas from CIA”

The plan is bulletproof. We get the money and the label contacts; you get a portion of the spotlight and the chance to make your (oddly high) voice heard.

What do you say, Eric? I’m afraid that this has to be my final offer.

Warm regards,
Dre.

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Andre,

Today will go down in hip hop history as the dawning of a brand new era! I’m happy to say that I accept your offer. I just know you and I will be friends forever, with no need to ever fall out.

All my warmest wishes,

Eric.

PS. No worries about that hundred; what’s a few dollars between friends?!

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TROUBLE, I'M OUT.