You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about rap. I’ve also been thinking about wraps…specifically of the caesar variety. Nice bit of egg and cheese. Mmm, lovely…provided that they’re all organic of course.
But no, I just attended an alternate music festival where a whole eighteen people showed up, and ALL of them were fascinating. There was one guy who was making a living exclusively by writing country music songs about life in a nursing home. Well, I mean, he’s trying. Nobody bought any of his records, but I’m sure he’s get his break. I shared my many styles, including my melodic inanimate objects range, and they all loved it. However, one fellow was a rapper, exclusively rapping about home buying options.
He was spitting lyrics non-stop about buyers advocates while I was there, which was apparently part of his particular fascination at the time (his friend essentially spoke for him, since he spoke only in topical rap). And you know…I’ve never give as much thought to rap as perhaps I should. I’ve always looked down upon it for lacking melody. But now I realise, rhythm and lyrics are beautiful by themselves. I now understand buyers advocacy in wonderful ways that I never would have before. The home buying process is so terribly elegant when represented in the spoken word, which was equalled only by him moving onto a few smoking-hot verses about conveyancing. Who knew that a topic as mundane as buying a home could become a riveting tale of wonder and whimsy. I am awe of the talent and skill it takes to come up with new lyrics on the fly.
Now that I think about it I’m not shocked that Melbourne property advocates received the rapping praise. When it came time for me to take the mic and deliver my stirring rendition of ‘The Tale of Pumpkin, My Childhood Rabbit Who Ran Away’, I almost felt inadequate. But then I sang it anyway. Stories like that refuse to be silent.