Ludacris is the kind of guy your mother warned you about. But then so is your average flasher, and Moby aside nobody offers them a record deal. “What’s Your Fantasy” is a three-minute job application for Fiesta Letters, and ‘fantasy’ is the right word: a glance at Ludacris’ weaselly form lets you know that in this case his name is no joke.

In any other case, though….look, you people keep telling me that rap is still a thrusting young artform and the peak of musical creativity. In which case, why has it only taken them twenty years to run completely out of good names? Ludacris? Juvenile? Nelly? P.Diddy? Make a bit of effort, for pity’s sake! And “undie” rap is not immune (incidentally I have ecological problems with undie rap – vinyl is non-biodegradable, you know, and burying unwanted records underground is merely evading the issue). A member of highly-touted avant-hop combo cLOUDDEAD is called, aptly, Why? Too lazy to use the shift key, too lazy to think of a good handle – though the one he’s picked will at least kick off a few fights. Ludacris’ real name is, obviously, Chris, which simply makes the whole thing worse. Might we expect him in the future to join forces with Apauling, Terryble and Silly Billy?