Lady Sovereign: Hoodie
Ahhhhh chavs – don’t cha just love ’em?
There’s an argument that says the chav is the finest example of a UK youth subculture we’ve seen in the bland years of stylistic conformity we’ve endured in the wake of acid house. And this, its Burberry-clad champion’s latest burst of grime smeared agit-pop, is an absolutely thrilling listen, like long faded ’90s popstress Nelly Furtado learning loads of rude words, necking cheap cider, and grinding her hips like a skateboarder grinds a kerb. It says more about England in 2005 in under three minutes than any bookish sociologically theorising bell-end like me could ever articulate with words.