It's a Hard-Knock Life

"And there is also an interesting undercurrent in the suggestion that a black, US hip-hop artist shouldn't be playing in front of what many perceive to be a white, middle-class audience. I'm not sure what to call it, at least not in public, but this is something that causes me some disquiet."

Thus spake Emily Eavis, daughter of Glastonbury Festival organiser Michael, of the public's lukewarm reception of rapper Jay-Z's top billing at the event.

Now, it's entirely possible she's onto something here. These days, racist idiots have realised that slack-jawed bigotry is frowned upon by reasonable people, and tend to cloak their prejudices. Modern racism, in the main, comes not burning crosses but in outbursts of whining, ever-so-victimised self-pity.

As you'll have guessed, I suspect that the public's discontent springs from more practical considerations. The last hip-hop gig I was at - Jurassic Five circa 2002, showing exactly how down with the kids I am these days - was attended almost exclusively by a "white, middle class audience". Nor can I fail to note the ironic, inconvenient fact that white, middle class kids probably make up half the global audience for hip-hop.

Which is rather the point - if we were to be honest about modern hip-hop, the adjectives that spring to mind are not edgy, street or keepin' it real... More like po-faced, risible bitch-slappin', Cristal-swillin' clown parade, or Laughably desperate and entirely voluntary consumption of skipfuls of corporate bullshit in the pursuit of cold, hard cash.

Or maybe Ludicrous charicature of the American capitalist dream, something like that.

So perhaps there's more at work here than the racism of middle England. Perhaps the public's animus towards Jay-Z's Glasto appearance is the result of two obvious facts...

1) Jay-Z himself sucks like an enraged Electrolux on PCP and

2) Jay-Z's music is so astonishingly bad, it could suck a cannonball through a hosepipe in three seconds flat.

Take your pick.