Column: American label signs 'biggest midget in the game'

by Damian Garde

Daily Lobo

While we may be two nations divided by a common language, no linguistic hang-ups could keep our British neighbors from rapping.

It all began in 2002 when Mike Skinner of the Streets released Original Pirate Material, spitting his working-class cockney over an inventive crossbreed of garage and hip-hop. Skinner was by no means an amazing rapper -- he seemed to consider rhythm and cadence as optional components of song. However, his distinct take on the genre secured a place for him on the iBooks -of unwashed hipsters nationwide.

Four years later, the concept of British rap has evolved from a punch line to a legitimate genre. However, thanks to Jay-Z, that may be about to change.

Enter 21-year-old Lady Sovereign. Outfitted in the requisite tracksuit and nondescript trainers, Sovereign looks like Sporty Spice in primary school. After an August 2005 meeting with Jay-Z, Sovereign scored a deal with Def Jam, whose hype machine is already singing the praises of its limey recruit.

As her debut, Public Warning, is set for release this month, let's take an in-depth look at the self-proclaimed "biggest midget in the game."

Her first exposure to American audiences came on Vice Records' Run the Road compilation, where she contributed the single "Cha Ching." The song sees our lady drop such inspired lines as, "Me no have 50 rings, but I got 50 tings to say in a cheeky kinda way." She continues to babble about the banalities of her existence before assuring us that her mattress "doesn't really smell like cat piss."

She released a few subsequent singles, all of which mention her age, her height and the fact that, apparently, she's got a lot to say.

I'll be the first to admit that her asymmetrical pigtail and apparent Adidas fetish make for a cute image, but does she really belong at Def Jam? Her labelmates now include the Roots, Ghostface Killah and Nas.

So, she's lame. While it's pointless to dissect the hackneyed prose of every lackluster rapper in the world, Sovereign is a special case. As the first British MC to ink a deal with a major U.S. label, she's charged with representing an entire nation of rappers.

British rap has been too often written off as a kitschy fad by American listeners, and with Sovereign being elected its clueless ambassador, I can easily see why.

This is unfortunate since, to understand the potential of the genre, one must look no further than that same Run the Road compilation. The disc collects tracks from formidable MCs like Dizzee Rascal and Kano, both of whom reach beyond the cultural clichÇs of Lady Sovereign and strive to say something original. Dizzee's debut, Boy In Da Corner, found him existentially bummed, making keen observations of the violence and vice in his neighborhood. Kano's debut single, "P's and Q's," finds him dropping intricate couplets over gurgling synthesizers and clattering drums.

Of course, reality isn't quite as marketable as unabashed kitsch. There's a concise reason Austin Powers has more stateside admirers than Dorian Gray.

After not funding so much as a music video for Method Man's latest release, 4:21 . The Day After, Jay-Z and his lackeys at Def Jam have instead decided to champion a dwarf who raps like an episode of "The Osbournes" DJed by Paul Oakenfold.

Thanks, Jigga.