Bun Your Cheap Talk

It is common knowledge that when it comes to Glastonbury, Michael Eavis is King. The Lord of the Manor. Yet, as with every kingdom, a court jester is required. At Glastonbury 2010, this was none other than the infamous Dappy, poster child of N-Dubz.

After being cajoled into making the journey to witness this modern ghetto spin on stand-up comedy, I found my opinions to be wavering. Whilst I still have no time for their actual music I respect them; in a way.

There are still certain occurrences I do not care for, with one in particular still leaving a bad taste in my mouth. In January of this year, Radio 1 listener and mother Chloe Moody text in to the Chris Moyles show, branding Dappy “vile” and a “little boy with a silly hat”.

His reaction was despicable and well documented. For this I have no time. The man has purposefully placed himself in the eye of the public, and with that recognition there is the old adage of “opinions being like arseholes, everybody has one”.

Despite his eventual apology, this reaction exhibits a distinct lack of class on Dappy’s part. For that reason, I can never hold my hands up and say “you know what? I actually like N-Dubz”.

Therein lays the irony. My refusal to fully embrace them will always be hindered by their attitudes, yet it is their attitude that earns my curiosity. Their music will never be endearing to me because it isn’t really my cup of tea. It is their sheer force of will that affords them my acknowledgement.

They simply won’t go away.

The first time I bore witness to their eventual juggernaut was on ‘Channel U’. Most of the music videos on the channel were low budget and nearly all of them were utter tripe.

Yet there was this trio whose videos continually stood out to me. Of course you know who I’m on about. The reason for that was this snarling little mutt that was more pug in a cute hat than pit bull in a harness.

There were obvious ‘bigger dogs’ on the channel, but like bigger dogs in real life, their bark scared the shit out of you and you’d want nothing more to do with them after that.

It’s the little annoying dogs in life that tend to have staying power. Whilst they peck head, a mere shove and they’re out of your consciousness. Yet you can bet your bottom dollar that they’ll come back.

This is how it is with N-Dubz. You change the channel and they’re gone. Yet after a few months and determination on their part, you change the channel and they’re on the next one. Then the next one. And so on, and so on. Until that horrific day when after you change the channel you find yourself going “Na na niiiiii.”
Society always loves a good success story. From ‘rags to riches’ and all that. It’s all the more poignant when that story is tied to a hint of tragedy too. Three years ago Dappy found his father Byron dead on the couch in their family home. He was also female band member Tulisa’s uncle.

Byron, or ‘Uncle B’, was a former bassist for band Mungo Jerry and had fought tirelessly to help the band achieve their dream of success. Two years after his death N-Dubz achieved their chart topping single with Tinchy Stryder’s ‘Number 1’.

With this dedicated drive behind them the band has gone from strength to strength. Dappy has tidied up his ham-fisted vocals, whilst still managing to retain the lethargic delivery.

Adidas have come sniffing and they’re currently the focal point of a Channel 4 series “Being…N-Dubz”. It’s nothing short of remarkable.

The naysayers can point to the fact that were grime not the current flavour of the week, thanks to more talented and inventive artists such as Wiley and Skepta, then N-Dubz wouldn’t have a pot to piss in.

Yet sometimes, it’s not about being the best, it’s about having the hindsight to see something big coming. To strategically place yourself in a position to reap the benefits. There is nothing wrong with wanting to succeed in life, so that life in itself is more comfortable.

Watching them at Glastonbury, I did feel a degree of shame. More so because I raised the average age by about eight years, Looking around you could see people laughing, pretending to take it all as a joke, feeling as though they were too ‘cool’ to genuinely like or respect N-Dubz.

I understand these feelings, but ultimately, they’re bullshit. If the people were too cool to watch them, then why be there in the first place? I’m not about to stand here and proclaim the trio to be the saviour of British music. Yet, with all the costume changes and stage production, they are interesting to watch. It’s car crash music.

They’ve worked hard to be where they are, which is refreshing. In an industry filled with bell ends like Pete Doherty who have God given talent yet proceed to piss it all away; a success story lined with hard graft is much needed.