London, Quieten Down

Can I say that the most exciting thing happening now is not in literature, but in music? That this music is more literate than our literature – more worldly, more widely-read? That when some kid gets up on stage and sings "Aim High" or "Got brown skin, I’m a West Londoner / Educated, but a refugee still", to a musical backing from five different continents, they’re saying more, and better, than any book is right now? Music has always been in the cultural vanguard, but why is there no literature of London that is as accessible, hybridised, and popular as the music currently rumbling out of cars all over the city?

The only thing I can think of that approaches this is Tony White’s searingly brilliant Foxy-T, which despite being written by a white guy, contains a more relevant description of London’s mixed-up multicultureclash than any number of Smiths or Alis (better review than I can write here). White’s earlier novels (including the notorious CharlieUncleNorfolkTango) were consciously modeled on those of Richard Allen (as previously discussed), and it is strangely appropriate that he breaks with this style to depict the lives of those that Allen’s antiheroes despised.

Thought for the weekend: Roll Deep walked out on their record company last summer and sold thousands of copies of their album out of the back of their car. I look forward to an author doing the same.